The Ladykillers

Normally I dig what the Joel and Ethan have cooking. Teaming with the ever lovable teddy bear known as Tom Hanks, The Ladykillers should be guaranteed good cooking, right? I’m afraid not. While there are some interesting things happening in the film, it never fully comes together.

Hanks plays Goldthwait Higginson Dorr, PhD. But you might mistake him for the dashing younger brother of Colonel Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame. Higginson is a smooth talking southern gent of the old-fashioned variety posing as an academic on sabbatical training a group of men to play ancient instruments. He rents out a room from sharp-witted widowed senior Marva Munson (Irma P. Hall). Dorr and the band take to her cellar and start digging their way into the vault at a nearby casino.

The Ladykillers is meant to be a comedic spin on the heist film that explores the mythology of Edgar Allan Poe in the context of southern hospitality. The problem is, it’s not all that funny. In fact, the first word that comes to mind for me is boring.

Hanks has mastered the art of charm. With the occasional exception, i.e.The Burbs, his innocent face and Barney Rubble smile are enough to bring life to his many memorable characters. However, his take on Dorr is downright irritating. His academically infused 19th-century banter is at times humorous, but he seems insistent on ending most every conversation with a wheezing laugh reminiscent of Steve Urkle.

The rest of the cast are a hodgepodge of caricatures. Gawain (Marlon Wayans) is the inside man at the casino and the streetwise antithesis to Marva’s churchgoing gospel traditions. The General (Tzi Ma) is the guy who says little but when he speaks his words are supposed to be astounding. Garth Pancake (J.K. Simmons) is the outcast with faulty bowels. Lump (Ryan Hurst) is the punch-drunk Frankenstein muscle. When you put them together you get a group that you’ve seen before where the only originality comes from a distinctly Coen brothers quirkiness that freely mixes myth in with new material.

The Coens have made a name for themselves by building off of legends and as such, their films seem to be appreciated most by those who are well versed in literature. But in placing so much on the references and symbolism, they also run the risk of alienating their audience. Their most successful films have those references that make the experience all the more richer for those who ‘get it’ but their also accessible enough for those who might not be in on their inside jokes. Fargo was funny and smart even if you hadn’t studied Paul Bunyan. O Brother, Where Art Thou? was great even if you didn’t see that it was Homer’s Odyssey thrown into the Depression era. The Ladykillers seems to be playing with morality and Edgar Allan Poe, but I’m not in the know I guess. And rather than being otherwise rich, I had to stick to the surface and the surface isn’t too great.

If the Coen brothers officially arrived with Fargo, the commercial success of O Brother, particularly the soundtrack, brought them ever closer to the mainstream. The Ladykillers felt to me like Hollywood execs are trying to get the Coen brothers to cash in on formulas that have proven profitable rather than letting them play and try out new things. The music here stands out, putting southern gospel on the pedestal rather than traditional blue grass. While it is enjoyable, there isn’t the personality in the music that worked so well with O Brother. Rather than complimenting and weaving through the narrative, it sticks out and not in a good way. Toss in the name power of Hanks and the film all of a sudden reeks as a cash grab.

The Ladykillers, a remake of a 1955 film starring Alec Guiness, ultimately feels like someone trying to imitate the Coen brothers rather than the Coen brothers doing something themselves. While it scrapes the surface of being whimsical, it doesn’t come close to the magic created by past Coen flicks.