The Umbrella Men

Everybody loves a good heist movie, but they’re astoundingly difficult to do well. The plotting has to be efficient and precise. The characters have to be engaging, the chemistry between them just right. The script needs to convince in positioning them as the good guys and the banks, or its wealthy customers, as the enemy. As a consequence, there are relatively few which really satisfy. Screened as part of the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival, The Umbrella Men is a welcome addition to their number.

Its title comes from a group famed for their musical performances in an annual Cape Town carnival – a group within which Gershwin Adams was once a leading light. The story proper begins at his funeral, where his son Jerome (Jaques De Silva), who now lives in Johannesberg and plans to return there as soon as possible, is pressured to take up his legacy. He’s reluctant about accepting ownership of the Goema Club, a nightclub which has long been the musical heart of the Bo-Kaap community, but begins to understand why it matters when local entrepreneur and crime lord Tariek (Abduragman Adams) tries to do a deal with him under the table to obtain it. Jerome knows that Tariek is trying to gentrify the neighbourhood, pushing people like his family out. When he then learns that the club is heavily indebted, having been used as collateral for all of his father’s expensive community work, he is faced with a seemingly impossible task: raise one million rand (approximately £50k) in two weeks, or lose it (and see it sold directly to Tariek by the corrupt bank manager).

Hard times encourage innovative thinking. It so happens that Jerome’s best friend Mortimer (Keenan Arrison) has just been released from prison, so has a few interesting contacts. Together with fellow musician Mila (Bronté Snell) they begin to discuss the idea of a bank job. There is nothing careless about this. Morty desperately doesn’t want to go back inside, and Jerome assures him that they won’t get caught. In order to stay safe, they are advised, they should avoid using any scheme which people are already familiar with from films. They set up their plot like a small business initiative, headhunting the right professionals – some of whom come with scary conditions attached – and securing investment capital from a pawn shop owner so that they can acquire the necessary gear.

All of this takes place under the watchful eye of they Aunty V (June van Merch), who will eventually turn out to have a few secrets of her own. It’s complicated by Jerome’s clumsy efforts to romance bank teller Keisha (Shamilla Miller), a woman who is much more forthright in her affections than he knows how to be, and who has her own reasons for disliking her employer. A discovery about the city’s colonial legacy adds an interesting dimension to the set-up, and a white guy who has never felt able to ask for inclusion within the community proves critical to setting things in motion.

From there, it’s all go – with, of course, unforeseen events, mistakes and double crosses complicating the carefully laid scheme. Will our heroes be successful? Will they manage to evade the bank’s security staff, the police and Tariek’s goons, and save the club? Against the odds, director John Barker manages to keep us guessing. He maintains a lively pace throughout. A rousing chorus of Roll Out The Barrel towards the end, delivered in distinctive South African style, provides a link to the cockney capers of yore and celebrates the would-be robbers for what they are: ambitious working class people getting back at the Man. With the legacy of Apartheid hovering in the background, there’s a sense that natural justice is on their side, but it’s the camaraderie between them and their neighbours which really cements their position as heroes.

Full of vibrant tunes which capture the energy of the city and its ethnically mixed working class communities, The Umbrella Men is a natural crowd pleaser. De Silva makes a charismatic lead, his Jerome smart enough to keep one hoping he can outwit his enemies, yet awkward enough in certain situations for one to be aware of how easily it could all go wrong. Despite moments of violence and occasionally dark themes, there’s an upbeat, optimistic vibe to the film and a light, playful sense of humour. Barker knows when to slow right down to draw out the tension of an incipient kiss, and when to go reeling through a crowd which will leave you whirling. He manages suspense with deceptive ease and presents a modern, inclusive portrait of the Bo-Kaap which is full of heart.