The Coen brothers' latest film, "The Ladykillers," is haunted by the ghosts of past cinematic glory. Not from the 1955 movie of which it is a remake, but from the duo's previous work, specifically 2000's "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" Both films feature the same larger than life characters, sweeping vista shots, and a soundtrack that revives bygone musical styles.
Like "O Brother," "The Ladykillers" is centered on a group of hapless but lovably kooky criminals. Professor G.H. Dorr (played by Tom Hanks) is the leader of a group of five thieves plotting to rob a casino. They set up shop in the basement of Marva Munson (Irma P. Hall) in order to tunnel into the casino's vault. Munson doesn't suspect a thing, believing that the five men are members of a musical ensemble that performs pieces from the Renaissance.
Alone, each man seems to be capable enough to fulfill his own role: the Professor is the brains, Gawain MacSam (Marlon Wayans) is the inside man who works at the casino, Garth Pancake (J.K. Simmons) is the pyrotechnics expert, the General (Tzi Ma) is the field expert, and Lump Hudson (Ryan Hearst) is the muscle. But, surprise: it turns out that this group of eccentric ne'er-do-wells is unbelievably bungling, blowing even the simplest of tasks, and relying on the Professor's smooth-talking abilities to get them out of the scrapes.
The incompetence of the group reaches its climax when Pancake's poorly timed explosives lead to Munson discovering what is really going on in her root cellar. Not even the Professor's wheedling promise that the men will donate their money to Bob Jones University (Munson's favorite Christian institution) can convince their landlady to keep quiet about the plot. They decide they must kill her, which, naturally, becomes a more difficult task than it should be.
The seemingly stock vaudeville tone of the film could become a collection of meaningless movie clich?©s in the hands of any other filmmakers. The Coen brothers, however, have a knack for nuance that makes "The Ladykillers" more than a by-the-book comedy.
Perhaps the most complex character in the film is Professor G.H. Dorr, who gets some of the best lines in the film: he tells a waitress, "We must have waffles, we must all have waffles forthwith," and claims, after Munson finds him hiding under a bed from a police officer that "we academics like to put ourselves into tight spaces."
Tom Hanks is especially effective in his portrayal of the Professor, piggybacking off the skillful writing the Coen brothers laid down, making Dorr a joy to watch. Dorr's Foghorn Leghorn-style laugh (complete with dandyish cane-waving) and smarmy use of sesquipedalian words lend an absurdity to his character that makes him utterly charming, despite his pomposity.
Marlon Wayans is also outstanding as the hot-tempered MacSam, playing up his unreasonable rage perfectly: when Pancake breaks the code of agreement among the group and brings his girlfriend Mountain Girl to their conference in a restaurant, MacSam repeatedly shouts in disbelief, "You brought your bitch to the Waffle Hut?!?"
Later, in a gleefully irresponsible departure from the Coens' tendency towards moralizing, Pancake tries to impress MacSam by telling him that he was a member of the Freedom Riders, an organization designed "to give you people [African Americans] the right to vote." MacSam responds, "Well, I don't vote anyway, so f*** you!"
Indeed, one of the downfalls of "The Ladykillers" is its inclination toward Hollywood moralization. The other major fault of the film is that the Coen brothers, who are usually creative and witty, sometimes bow to the cheap, obvious laugh instead of trying always to go for the unexpected.
It is inexplicable when this cleverly whimsical film relies on gross-out humor: Pancake and Mountain Girl met at a getaway for sufferers of Irritable Bowel Syndrome, and the medical condition appears at several other points to drive along the plot, as if the Coens couldn't think of anything better to advance the story.
Furthermore, is it really necessary for there to be the scene at the beginning in which Pancake gives a slobbering dog CPR? Or to have Munson express her distaste for "hippity hop" music, in a stale reprisal of the hackneyed "old person who doesn't understand youth culture" gag?
And yet, the film is still impossible not to enjoy. The film is theatrical and referential (one memorable moment occurs when Poe-fanatic Dorr sees a raven alighting on a statue in a visual homage to the "on the pallid bust of Pallas" line in the famous poem) but it is self-aware enough that one never feels that the movie takes itself too seriously.
As the strains of gospel music flood the theatre at the end of the movie, one gets the sense that the Coen brothers have created their own church where their film is deified as sacred art.
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