Crap, but greatif you know what I mean (spoilers)

Rating: Null/10 (20 December 2005)

Looking at it objectively, Escape to Victory is a lousy film. Its got bad acting, the story is hackneyed, the characters are cardboard cut outs and the sporting element contains every cliché and follows every convention of the genre. But entirely because of that, it's also one of the most enjoyable bad films ever made.
You know reality means nothing in this film when we're asked to believe that Michael Caine is a football star. Here's a man with two left feet, who has a spare tire around his waste and who looks unfamiliar with the concept of running. He looks more out of shape than Tomas Brolin after a thirty-day bender at the local kebab shop. But no mind, the film desperately needs acting talent, so he's it. And he does a jolly good job of just shouting his way through the film.
The only other capable actor is demon-slayer and Jesus himself, Max von Sydow. He's the 'good' Nazi who wants to put a game together between the German national team and the POWs. But while he can act, he too looks uncomfortable around a football (he's supposed to be a former international). Just look at the scene where he flicks the ball up with his big boots and passes it to Caine. It's obvious it's his double.
Other than those two, though, and aside from a few of the British officer chaps, the acting talent on display is meagre to say the least. Not only do you have to suffer the agony of Pelé, Bobby Moore, John Wark and Mike Summerbee sharing a scene with actual dialogue (the exchange further confirmed my atheism), but you also have to watch Sylvester Stallone pretending to be French. And in one scene he even fools a German soldier into believing he's a French native, despite his not-so French accent. No wonder they lost the war.
Further evidence of Nazi stupidity is when they're fooled by Bobby Moore's Hatch doll. Honestly, there's a scene, after Hatch escapes to contact the French Resistance, where the World Cup winner walks about with a big Hatch doll to fool his captors. It should make me hate the film, but it's so silly it's brilliant.
That's a sentiment that runs throughout the whole of the film. Brilliant stupidity. I mean, why does Hatch, when he becomes the trainer and is talking about possible ailments the players might suffer from, almost immediately mention anal bleeding? What are these players up to? But I like the relationship between Caine and Stallone during the training sequences. If Caine is Graham Taylor, Stallone is Phil Neal. Hatch repeats everything his boss says like a parrot.
But even better than that is the tracksuit moment. The entire team emerges from a hut in red uniform only to be greeted by jeers and wolf-whistles. It's sheer poetry  the Caine mince, the pugnacious 'V' sign and the defiant "Up yours!" Beautiful. I also like it when Caine breaks his goalkeeper's arms so that Hatch can join the team and help the escape. It's the most stiff-lipped arm breaking scene I've ever scenewhich is something to applaud.
But all this stuff is nothing compared to the game. This is where things get really good/bad/bloody brilliant. I mean, just take the traitorous Nazi commentator. He's English, but he's loving his fascist uniform and he adores the Fatherland. He's an evil propagandist. But he does give me an idea for a possible remake. If they ever do decide to take another stab at making the film his part should be filled by another fashion-conscious, nonsense-speaking Nazi  Ron Atkinson.
Once the game starts, the Allies are almost immediately losing thanks to Hatch's goalkeeping. He's like David James; he's afraid of crosses. Plus he has a curious habit of tackling strikers with two-footed challenges. Unusual technique to say the least. But I love how clueless Hatch is. Not only does he have to ask where to stand for a corner kick, but he has to ask Caine about what happens during a penalty. "I'm supposed to stop it?" "Yeah, you're the goalie." Genius.
But the cheating Germans crock Co Prins and then do Pelé in  two players hack him at once. However, Bobby Moore scores and at half-time they're only losing 4-1. But damn Hatch wants to escape. But then Pelé appeals to him. "Hatch, if we run now, we loose more than a game." You see, if they'd escaped, the Allies would have been humiliated and the occupied people would have lost heart. The Queen Mother didn't win us the war; the Allied football team did. Look it up in your history books; it's true.
"The Allies are playing above themselves", says Ron when the Allies make it 4-2. Traitorous idiot! But then it's 4-3. But then the cheating ref disallows a perfectly good goal. But then Pelé comes back on ("I feel good. I feel better.") and nets the second best overhead kick in the history of the world (Trevor Sinclair's against Barnsley was better). No, actually, he nets it about fifty times, because Max von Sydow sees it in his minds eye again and again and again in slow-motion and with twinkly music. Then he leaps up and applauds, just like Gorbachev in Rocky IV (want to break a totalitarian regime? Make them watch Stallone play sports). You see, football unites the world. No violence occurs because of it. It fosters nothing but feelings of love and harmony.
Although I do have to say that the big 'V' for Victory that flashes up at the end of the film makes me want to give Herr Fritz a big Caine-style "Up yours!"
Oh yeah, and the dumb American saves a last minute penalty and the players escape by wearing big coats and peasant hats. Can you get to Switzerland in football boots?