You know that feeling when you watch an old movie and it feels like a chore? Like you’re doing homework for a history class? Honestly, How to Steal a Million is the exact opposite of that. Released in 1966, it’s this weirdly perfect cocktail of high fashion, art forgery, and a heist that actually makes sense if you don't think too hard about the physics of a magnet.
It stars Audrey Hepburn and Peter O'Toole. That’s basically all you need to know to understand why it’s a masterpiece of the "caper" genre. Hepburn plays Nicole Bonnet, the daughter of a legendary art forger who is about to get caught because his "Cellini Venus" is actually a fake made by his own father. To save her dad from jail, she has to steal the statue back from a high-security museum. Enter Peter O'Toole. He plays Simon Dermott, a guy she thinks is a burglar but is actually—well, I won't spoil the twist if you're one of the three people who hasn't seen it, but his chemistry with Hepburn is electric.
The Art of the Fake in How to Steal a Million
The whole plot hinges on the idea of authenticity. It’s kind of funny when you think about it. The movie is about a fake statue, but the movie itself is one of the most "real" feeling comedies from the 1960s. Most heist films today are obsessed with gritty realism or massive explosions. This one? It’s obsessed with Givenchy dresses and a yellow Jaguar E-Type.
William Wyler directed this. If that name sounds familiar, it’s because he did Ben-Hur and Roman Holiday. The man knew how to frame a shot. He didn't need shaky cams or rapid-fire editing to build tension. He just put two incredibly attractive people in a tiny janitor's closet for ten minutes and let the dialogue do the heavy lifting.
The security system in the movie is a character in its own right. The "Klardel" alarm. It’s triggered by any weight change on the pedestal. In 1966, this felt like sci-fi. Today, it feels charmingly analog. But the logic Simon uses to beat it—triggering it so many times that the guards eventually turn it off—is actually a real-world security exploit called "alarm fatigue." It's the same reason you ignore your neighbor's car alarm at 3 AM.
Why Audrey Hepburn’s Wardrobe Matters
Usually, talking about costumes in a movie review feels like filler. Not here. Hubert de Givenchy designed Hepburn’s wardrobe for How to Steal a Million, and it’s basically a masterclass in 60s chic. The white lace mask? The oversized sunglasses? It’s not just for show.
The clothes act as a shield for Nicole. She’s trying to blend into a world of high-society art collectors while her family is secretly a bunch of crooks. When she’s "disguised" as a cleaning lady to help with the heist, she still looks like she stepped off a runway. It’s ridiculous. It’s wonderful. It’s pure cinema.
That Infamous Closet Scene
Most of the movie's middle act takes place inside a cramped supply closet at the Musée Kléber-Lafayette. This is where the movie shifts from a comedy about art into a genuine romantic caper.
✨ Don't miss: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
There's no CGI. No gadgets.
Just a boomerang and a magnet.
Think about how movies handle heists now. You’ve got lasers, hackers, and drones. In How to Steal a Million, they use a child’s toy. Simon realizes that the only way to get the statue is to make the technology look stupid. He uses a boomerang to trigger the infrared sensors. It’s brilliant because it’s low-tech.
People forget how much of a risk this movie was for O'Toole. He was known as a "serious" actor after Lawrence of Arabia. Doing a breezy comedy where he spends half the time making eyes at Audrey Hepburn could have tanked his "serious" reputation. Instead, it proved he had the best comedic timing of his generation. His delivery of the line, "I’ll give you a lift, provided you don't shoot me," is basically the blueprint for every charming rogue character we’ve seen since, from Han Solo to Danny Ocean.
The Real History of Art Forgery
Is the movie accurate about art? Sort of.
The "Cellini Venus" at the heart of the film is fictional, but the world of forgers it portrays is very real. Consider the case of Han van Meegeren, who famously sold forged Vermeers to the Nazis. Like Nicole’s father in the film, forgers often get caught because of scientific testing, not because the art looks bad. In the movie, the "scientific examination" is the ticking time bomb.
Nicole’s father, Charles Bonnet (played by the hilarious Hugh Griffith), represents a specific type of gentleman thief that doesn't really exist in movies anymore. He’s not stealing for money—he’s already rich. He’s doing it for the ego. He wants to see his family’s work praised by the experts. It’s a psychological nuance that makes the stakes feel more personal than just a bank robbery.
🔗 Read more: Greatest Rock and Roll Singers of All Time: Why the Legends Still Own the Mic
Common Misconceptions About the Film
Some people think this is a sequel to Roman Holiday. It’s not. It just feels like one because of Wyler and Hepburn. Others think it’s a "fluff" movie with no substance.
That’s a mistake.
Underneath the champagne and the humor, there’s a pretty cynical look at the art world. It suggests that "experts" don't actually know what they’re looking at and that prestige is often built on a lie. When Eli Wallach’s character, Davis Leland, wants to buy the Venus, he doesn't care about the art. He cares about the possession. The movie is quietly mocking the commercialization of beauty.
Production Secrets You Probably Didn't Know
- The Cars: The car Simon drives is a 1962 Jaguar E-Type. At the time, it was just a cool car. Now, it’s a multi-million dollar collector’s item.
- The Museum: The Musée Kléber-Lafayette isn’t real. They used the interiors of the Musée Carnavalet in Paris for some shots, but much of it was a massive set built at the Boulogne Studios.
- The Statue: The Venus statue was actually sculpted specifically for the film. It had to look "sort of" like a Cellini but also "sort of" like it could have been made in a basement.
How to Steal a Million: What We Can Learn from It Today
If you're a filmmaker or a writer, there’s a lot to dissect here. It’s a lesson in pacing. The first forty minutes are almost entirely setup, but you don't notice because the characters are so engaging.
You’ve got to admire the simplicity.
Modern movies are too complicated. They try to outsmart the audience. How to Steal a Million tells you exactly what it's going to do, and then it does it. The tension doesn't come from wondering if they will succeed, but from wondering how they will survive each other's company in that closet.
Actionable Insights for Movie Lovers:
💡 You might also like: Ted Nugent State of Shock: Why This 1979 Album Divides Fans Today
- Watch for the "Three-Beat" Joke: Wyler uses a technique where he sets a joke up, repeats it for familiarity, and then subverts it the third time. Watch the guards' reactions to the alarm. It’s a textbook example of comedic structure.
- Look at the Lighting: Notice how the lighting changes when they are in the museum versus Nicole’s home. The museum is cold and blue; the home is warm and golden. It’s a visual cue for where the "truth" lies.
- Check Out the Soundtrack: John Williams wrote the score. Yeah, that John Williams. Long before Star Wars or Jaws, he was writing breezy, jazzy caper music. It’s a totally different side of his talent.
If you want to understand why the 1960s is considered the golden age of the heist film, this is your starting point. It’s stylish, it’s smart, and it doesn't treat the audience like they're stupid. It understands that a movie can be light without being shallow.
To really appreciate the craft, try watching the museum sequence with the sound turned off. You’ll see how much of the story is told through movement and eye contact. It’s basically a silent film embedded in a talkie.
Next time you're scrolling through a streaming service and can't find anything to watch, skip the modern CGI-heavy blockbusters. Go back to 1966. Look for the girl in the lace mask and the guy with the boomerang. It’s a better ride, honestly.
Final Takeaway for the Modern Viewer
The film reminds us that the best "heist" isn't the one that breaks into a vault—it's the one that steals your attention for two hours and leaves you smiling. It’s a rare bird in the cinematic world: a perfect movie. It doesn't need a remake. It doesn't need a gritty reboot. It just needs to be watched on a big screen with a cold drink and someone who appreciates a good Givenchy hat.
The influence of this film is everywhere. You can see it in Ocean's Eleven, in The Thomas Crown Affair, and even in the playful DNA of the Mission: Impossible series. But those movies, as great as they are, often lack the sheer, unadulterated charm of Simon and Nicole. They are the gold standard of the genre.
Don't just take my word for it. Find a copy. Watch the scene with the magnet. See if you don't find yourself rooting for the forger's daughter. It’s almost impossible not to.
Steps to Experience the Film Properly:
- Find the restored Blu-ray or 4K digital version. The colors of 1960s Paris are too good to watch in grainy low-def.
- Pay attention to the background art in the Bonnet mansion. Many of those "forgeries" are incredibly well-executed copies of famous Impressionist works.
- Notice the lack of a traditional "villain." The antagonist is really just the fear of being found out. It makes the movie feel much more human.
By the time the credits roll, you’ll realize that the "million" in the title is the least interesting thing about the whole story. The real treasure was the chemistry, the clothes, and that ridiculous yellow car. It’s a masterclass in style over substance—where the style is the substance. That’s a trick very few filmmakers can pull off, and William Wyler did it with both hands tied behind his back.
Enjoy the heist. It’s the most fun you’ll have with art history, guaranteed.
Resources for Further Exploration
- The Givenchy/Hepburn Partnership: Research the 40-year friendship between the actress and the designer that defined mid-century fashion.
- Classic Hollywood Heist Tropes: Compare this film to Topkapi (1964) to see how the genre evolved in the mid-sixties.
- John Williams’ Early Work: Listen to the soundtracks of The Reivers or Checkmate to hear the evolution of the world's most famous composer.