The Ladykillers was one of the last of the Ealing comedies, a series of movies produced by Michael Balcon in London’s Ealing Studios during the late 1940s through the 50s, directed by folks like Charles Crichton, Alexander Mackendrick, and Robert Hamer, and often starring Alec Guinness. Similar in tone and style, they were a landmark of British comedy on film, influencing later movies (including A Fish Called Wanda, the last film Crichton directed) and a number of British sitcoms and sketch shows. For its unique, dark plot and characters, The Ladykillers is one of the most famous of these films, alongside Kind Hearts and Coronets and The Lavender Hill Mob. It was directed by Mackendrick, starred Guinness, and was written by William Rose who claims to have dreamed up the whole story from start to finish, earning an Oscar nomination and a BAFTA win for it.
It’s about a sweet but eccentric old woman Mrs. Louisa Wilberforce (Katie Johnson) who unknowingly rents out her upstairs room to the cunning criminal “Professor” Marcus (Alec Guinness) who with a foursome of friends, poses as a practicing string quintet while using Mrs. Wilberforce’s house as a temporary front for their robbery schemes.
This movie really finds a way to hit the median of silly and grim well, though it’s not quite as impressive now perhaps as it was back then. The Brits have always been experts at black humour and so a movie called The Ladykillers, presumably about a group of men who kill or attempt to kill an old woman, doesn’t seem all that shocking or out of the ordinary. This is a culture after all that’s produced Monty Python, Bottom, The League of Gentlemen, Naked, Trainspotting, In Bruges, Four Lions, and Keeping Mum -essentially an inverse of The Ladykillers. But this movie is still slightly subversive in the way it balances its subject matter. It starts off very inoffensive, the characters are fairly ridiculous with Alec Guinness wearing fake teeth even less convincing than Rami Malek’s overbite in Bohemian Rhapsody designed to make him look like Alastir Sim, who the role was originally written for. “One-Round” Lawson, played by Danny Green is particularly dimwitted, Peter Sellers’ Harry Robinson is a walking stereotype, and Cecil Parker’s Major Courtney, perhaps intentionally, seems much too posh and well-off to be engaged in something like this. The characters bicker, hide their plans by playing only a one piece recording (the signature famous minuet from Boccherini’s String Quintet in E Major) on repeat to fool Mrs. Wilberforce, and their little heist, in which they trick Mrs. Wilberforce into abetting, is fraught with low-stakes hijinks. All this makes for a harmless if disappointingly tame comedy not dissimilar from the kinds of films coming out of Hollywood at the time headlined by a Bob Hope or Danny Kaye.
But then the premise shifts towards its titles’ original implication. The core crew intended on leaving with their plunder until a mishap on One-Round’s part causes Mrs. Wilberforce to find out what they really did. And Mrs. Wilberforce, always eager to report what she perceives to be crimes to the police, thus becomes a liability, and the gang conspire to kill her. In a way, the movie tricks its audience into thinking they’re seeing one kind of movie, and then pulls the rug out when this comical troupe of thieves turn into would-be murderers dying in turn in increasingly ludicrous ways as they attempt to do this or double-cross each other; almost like a Looney Tunes cartoon if it were actually lethal. If not for the title forecasting it, this change in plot direction would be pretty jarring and perhaps bold. Nevertheless, the bizarre last act of the movie is the best part, where the silly informs the sinister in creative and elaborate ways. And the gallows humour is top form, each death have a modicum of comedy to it, a couple of which are downright slapstick jokes.
It’s the story before all this that’s fairly tedious though. Until the reveal of the stolen cash in One-Round’s cello case, the movie isn’t terribly interesting. I compared it to a disappointing Hollywood comedy from the time, which isn’t entirely fair as it has far more wit to it; but it still isn’t all that engaging or memorable, outside of perhaps the Marcus character. Most of his colleagues aren’t as threatening or deceptive, so their planning of the robbery and putting on gentlemanly attitudes for Mrs. Wilberforce doesn’t come off as slimy or creepy. And any comedy to come out of their interactions comes from Mrs. Wilberforce’s end.
This is an exceptionally good and funny cast too. Cecil Parker and Danny Green really suit their parts terrifically. I particularly like how Parker plays Major Courtney’s escape attempt with very British cordiality. And Green despite playing the oaf of the group is properly intimidating during his last act rampage. The great Peter Sellers bursts onto the scene with this film, and his quick-witted cockney spiv is often a delight, while his future Pink Panther co-star Herbert Lom, despite being the most serious and possibly dangerous of the crew, even gets a couple good lines to work with. But most of their individual best moments are in that last act, though they get some great collective scenes earlier (such as the hilarious reaction on their faces as they watch Mrs. Wilberforce almost unknowingly derailing their heist). Alec Guinness is obviously the star for a reason though, and he’s the main force that buffets you through the first two acts. He really was one of Britain’s most versatile actors, excelling in as over-the-top a role as this petty but cunning self-convinced criminal mastermind (with a smile ever-so-slightly reminiscent of The Man Who Laughs) a mere two years before his dramatic apex in The Bridge on the River Kwai. And curiously, the only performer who comes close to upstaging him is Katie Johnson, who on first glance isn’t bringing a lot more than the bare requirements to playing Mrs. Wilberforce. In contrast to Marcus, she’s not much an over-the-top character at all and that’s precisely what makes her funny. She’s a little old trusting lady with a stern if overzealous sense of justice; so much so that when the crooks try to convince her she would be arrested too for aiding their theft in an effort to quiet her, she’s willing to do the time. Johnson plays all this wonderfully naturally, but the way Mrs. Wilberforce is written is also a mark in the characters’ favour.
Her everyday life is characterized by a generally quaint, simple old English lady lifestyle, and every so often reporting something bizarre or suspicious to the police, who kindly humour her without ever taking her concerns seriously. I know Mrs. Wilberforce, and I suspect so do many who have worked in some form of public service job -the friendly but naive old lady with wild ideas or suspicions who relies on that particular service as a social outlet more than anything else. And the way she talks to the police and their responses to her are very real to life, up to and including the final joke of the police unknowingly letting her keep stolen money because of their experience with her personality.
The Ladykillers despite its great premise, is not the best of the Ealing comedies and doesn’t quite pack the punch now as it did in 1955. It’s hurt by a generally lacklustre first half as well. But it does have a surprising sense of relatability and some very good performances to keep it watchable until the bodies start to mount through fun physical comedy and gallows humour that is impeccably well done. It’s perhaps not as striking as the better-known 2004 Coen Brothers remake, but it is funnier, which is really more important.
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