CANADIAN FLYER MONEY
Flick follows American who ventured north and stole a boatload of cash
There exists a small but worthy sub-genre of Canadian truecrime movies featuring daring, dashing robbers. Think Richard Farnsworth as Bill Miner, a.k.a. The Gentleman Bandit, in The Grey Fox, a 1982 drama recently given a lovely restoration by Kino Lorber.
About 10 years ago, Scott Speedman starred in Edwin Boyd, playing a 1940s Toronto bank robber who fancied himself the Canadian John Dillinger.
And I’ll allow the 2003 drama Owning Mahowny into the club, even though Philip Seymour Hoffman’s portrayal of a Toronto bank manager/gambling addict/ embezzler is the antithesis of dashing.
The group’s newest member is Josh Duhamel as Gilbert Galvan Jr., a.k.a. Robert Whiteman, a.k.a. The Flying Bandit. Galvan was an American who crossed the border illegally in 1985, settled in Ottawa under a new name and started robbing banks with a suave mix of panache, élan and politesse. He never fired a gun. Sometimes he didn’t even have one on him. In 59 heists committed in every province save Newfoundland and P.E.I., he stole $2.3 million.
He also fell in love with and married a local woman (played by Elisha Cuthbert) and met a crime lord (Mel Gibson) who provided seed money for his spree. Using elaborate disguises and quick wits, Galvan/ Whiteman would sometimes fly to another city, knock over two or three banks and then fly home again, his briefcase stuffed with loot, disguises and occasionally a weapon. He was an early adopter of Air Canada’s frequent flyer program.
Toronto director Allan Ungar (Gridlocked) keeps the pace fast and light; despite a two-hour running time, the film never lags. With cheeky voice-over narration by Duhamel, Bandit opens with one of Whiteman’s more daring robberies, a daylight raid on a London, Ont., bank with Whiteman escaping in plain sight, dressed for a Shriner’s convention.
That escapade unfolds to the tune of Raise a Little Hell by Canadian rockers Trooper — appropriately, from their album Thick as Thieves. Later Cancon cuts include Making It Work from Doug and the Slugs, and Burton Cummings’s My Own Way to Rock. The mood is Catch Me If You Can meets Up in the Air.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the legal divide, Swen Temmel and Nestor Carbonell play officers Hoffman and Snydes, though based on their wardrobe you could call them sharp cop/ rough cop. This policing odd couple seems to be always one or two steps behind our man, though you sense that Whiteman’s life of crime can’t go on forever. If nothing else, he’ll eventually run out of banks.
Bandit was adapted by Kraig Wenman from the 1996 book The Flying Bandit: Bringing Down Canada’s Most Daring Armed Robber. He can be forgiven for reminding us that so much of what we’re seeing is true, because Whiteman’s exploits do seem like the stuff of urban legend, and happened just long enough ago that a good many people won’t even recall the Flying Bandit’s flight.
No mistaking where it all went down, mind you. Whiteman’s first heist, in 1986, involved a branch of the “Royale East Bank,” its Persian blue logo giving away the institution’s real name. When he realizes he’s forgotten to bring a bag, the charmed teller finds him one.
“How’d I do?” he wants to know before fleeing. She advises him to work on his penmanship — his stickup note was a little sloppy — and he thanks her before sauntering off. She hasn’t screamed or yelled, but raises her voice to call after him: “Have a good day!”