THE LADYKILLERS: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Ealing Studios, 1955) Kino Lorber
Difficult to
argue with the BFI’s assessment of director, Alexander Mackendrick’s 1955 masterpiece,
The Ladykillers, as the 13th greatest British movie of all
time, except to perhaps suggest that ranking isn’t high enough. For there are
few, if any in this particular vintage of Ealing comedies, more
quintessentially British, brilliant, or brutally satisfying. The Ladykillers
is a darkly purposed bon-bon, whose exquisitely conceived screenplay by William
Rose is so full of bon mots, it staggers the intellect as well as to thoroughly
tickle the funny bone. No one, except perhaps Anita Loos in her prime could
have conceived such a diabolically delicious entertainment about the enterprise
of theft and murder for pure profit. And fewer still must have imagined the
likes of Alec Guinness, herein modeling his portrayal of the ghastly Prof.
Marcus either on fellow thespian, Alastair Sim or critic, Kenneth Tynan (with
whom Guinness had previously worked and had a falling out), pulling off such a
horrifyingly witty performance.
Having been
first-weaned on Sir Alec’s exquisite screen tomes as Jim Wormold (Our Man in
Havana, 1959), Major Jock Sinclair (Tunes of Glory, 1960) and
Colonel Nicholson (Bridge on the River Kwai, 1957) – and, if memory
serves – in that order, via Bill Kennedy at the Movies (further aside: I
sincerely have so much more in my youthful exposure to cinema art for which to
thank Mr. Kennedy), it was something of a shock to see Guinness, appearing so
wild-eyed, gaunt and garish in The Ladykillers. What a tour de force for
Guinness – the consummate actor’s actor of ‘every’ generation. I realize, of
course, such recognitions would have made Guinness blush with humility. And, if
only for Guinness’ appearance in it, then The Ladykillers would already
have everything going for it. But the picture is also stocked full of wonderful
faces and talents – some, going on to magnificent careers, others at their apex
then; Cecil Parker, who trademarked superciliousness into a finite art - as Major
Claude Courtney; Herbert Lom (as heartlessly dapper thug, Louis Harvey), Danny
Green (as punch-happy ex-pugilist, One-Round Lawson), Jack Warner (Superintendent),
and, Katie Johnson who, age 76, hit stardom’s elusive bull’s eye as jowly spotless,
Mrs. Louisa Wilberforce. And, making his movie debut, Peter Sellers, almost
unrecognizable as cockney, Harry Robinson.
Odd to think of
Rose, an American expat, having concocted the quintessentially seditious English
caper. And curiouser still for American-born Mackendrick to have direct it. And
yet, the traditional drawing room comedy, brandmarked in British cinema long
since, has taken root in the hearts of both men, each plying his sense and sensibilities
to this tradition with a highly toxic admixture of sarcasm against candid incorruptibility.
The comedy excels because the morbidity of the actual plot, that of a motley
crew of reprobates turning on each other for goodness sake, evolves along an
element of truly demented humor. There is also a very Lewis Carrol-esque, ‘Alice
in Wonderland’ quality to Jim Morahan’s production design, particularly Wilberforce’s
architecturally askew lodging house, veritably quaint, if anchored to this
otherwise sooty London hamlet of King’s Cross.
The diminutive,
and thoroughly naïve Mrs. Wilberforce is precisely the sort of rosy-cheeked, ‘out
of touch’ fusspot toward whom director, Alfred Hitchcock relished poking fun; her
post-war noblesse oblige fermenting in formaldehyde for a way of life as wilted
then as lilies of the gilded age. As with such kind-hearted biddies, Mrs.
Wilberforce’s splendidly obtuseness in mirrored in the house she calls home,
whose sagging foundation is a metaphor for her own askew benevolence towards
those who decidedly mean her grave harm. Lacking in responsibility, except
perhaps to her gregarious gaggle of exotic birds, Wilberforce is much-beloved by
the local constabulary, whom she graces with inventive intuitions about the
neighbors. While the superintendent and his officers find Wilberforce’s dotty
suspicions charming, they afford them no credence whatsoever.
Owing to her add
for tenants to help pay the rent, Wilberforce is approached by the congenially
menacing Professor Marcus. Unbeknownst to Wilberforce, Marcus intends to use the
home as the perfect hideaway for his band of hardened criminals, plotting their
very sophisticated armed robbery. Marcus’ men include an easily fooled con,
Major Claude Courtney, cockney lugger, Harry Robinson, dim-bulb 'One-Round'
Lawson, and, venomous hood, Louis Harvey. Virtually all will eventually fall
under the spell of Wilberforce’s inconspicuous gentleness, much to their own
ever-lasting detriment. Marcus suggests they are an amateur string quintet, and
will be using the rooms for rehearsal practices. To maintain this ruse, Marcus
has smuggled in a gramophone and various vintage records he plays to distract
Wilberforce while he and his men actually plot their daring heist. Wilberforce’s
chronic interruptions are tolerated, more deftly by some than others. But
gradually, all come to regard her as an integral part of their plan to steal
the money.
Alas, after
'One-Round's cello case full of banknotes becomes stuck in Wilberforce’s front
door, causing its contents to spill forth, Wilberforce concludes the true
motives of her tenants and informs them she intends to go directly to the
police. Marcus appeals to Wilberforce to reconsider. Not only will she be
considered an accomplice in their crime, but also, he assures her, theirs is a
victimless crime, as insurance will cover the losses. Wilberforce reconsiders,
briefly. In the meantime, Marcus concludes, Wilberforce cannot be allowed to
live. And thus, the men draw match sticks to see who will be tasked with the unpleasant
murder. Problem: all of the men have become quite fond of the old girl. Hence,
none wish to partake in her demise.
Having drawn the
‘shortest’ match, the Major elects instead to make a break with the money. Exhausted,
Wilberforce takes a nap, missing out on all the excitement as Marcus’ men turn
on each other. The Major is toppled from the roof while being pursued by Louis.
Harry is murdered by One-Round who, wrongly believes Harry murdered
Wilberforce. One-Round tries to shoot Louis and Marcus when he overhears of
their plan to double-cross him. Alas, he leaves the gun's safety catch on and
is himself killed by Louis. Marcus then kills Louis by dislodging his ladder
under the tunnel behind the house, causing Louis to fall into a passing railway
wagon. Before falling into the carriage, Louis fires a last shot at Marcus.
This nearly hits him. Surviving the assassination, Marcus is himself struck on
the head by the changing railway signal, his lifeless remains dropping into
another wagon. Ostensibly to have ‘inherited’ the loot by default, Mrs.
Wilberforce now tries to return the money to the police. As they believe her story
to be just another fanciful yarn, the superintendent suggests Wilberforce keep Marcus’
ill-gotten gains. Bewildered, Wilberforce reconsiders what such a payout could
do for her future. On route to her tiny abode, she bequeaths a sizable bank
note to a startled starving artist.
The Ladykillers is a deceptively
sardonic morality play, oft mislabeled as a comedy of the grotesque or horror/comedy.
To be sure, there are elements of the grand guignol in Rose’s scornful screenplay.
Wilberforce’s wide-eyed goodness presents the most devastating and monumental roadblock
to Alec Guinness’ jocose ne'er-do-well. Even the cruelest of Marcus’ crew, Herbert
Lom’s dagger-eyed Lewis, uncharacteristically finds himself incapable of doing
the old girl in, while the others struggle, either to digest or corrupt
Wilberforce’s naïveté, seceding from their greed at their own peril. What salvages the picture from becoming one misshapen
and overwrought delay of this cliched ‘crime must pay’ gratification is Katie
Johnson’s divinely inspired portrait of English stoicism, herein pitched with
the artful simplicity of a withered pixie. It should be noted, the
cherry-cheeked Ms. Johnson was not long for this world in real life, dying a
mere two years after appearing herein, having belatedly achieved stardom – as
well as a British Oscar as Best Actress – on her own terms.
Viewed today, The
Ladykillers remains delightfully askew in its ‘lamb bites wolves’
scenario. At first sight, the smug Marcus, leering in grisly and fiendish enterprise
with piercing, sunken orbs and that mellifluous voice for which Sir Alec was
decidedly blessed, and further to, our cordial introduction of Marcus to the
deceptively fragile, yet stubborn Wilberforce, right on through to Marcus’
brutal chagrin, The Ladykillers inspires a queasily unsettling empathy
for villainy’s fate in lieu of Wilberforce’s awkward triumph. We really do feel
for Marcus and his motley band of cutthroats, particularly, Peter Seller’s sprightly
cockney, as unlike his jaded handler, Harry Robinson might have had a whole
career in organized crime ahead of him. It isn’t simply that Wilberforce wins
the day by crusty resolve, but rather, the brittle browbeating given her unholy
boarders, presumably to teach them a thing or two about being ‘proper English gentlemen’
– aspirations to which they have never, and otherwise, never would have
ascribed. As the invulnerable suddenly decay under the yoke of Wilberforce’s
befuddled and maddening integrity, the very definition of virtue is brought
into question.
Produced by
Michael Balcon for Ealing Studios, The Ladykillers was the last British
movie to be shot in 3-strip Technicolor. Previously released in native 4K
abroad by StudioCanal, it now arrives states’ side in an identical restoration
via Kino Lorber that, unfortunately, gets shorn of most of that previous disc’s
extra features. The 4K release from Kino is imminently satisfying, though not
without caveats. Chiefly, cinematographer, Otto Heller’s high-stylized use of
the Technicolor process continues to register just a tad off, with flesh tones
in particular leaning to piggy pink. The 4K is available only in an aspect
ratio of 1.37:1, while the accompanying Blu offers both it and a 1.66:1 matted
version. In both cases, The Ladykillers astounds in its overall image clarity,
contrast and depth of field. In native 4K, fine details achieve a striking
crispness and film grain appears ever-so-slightly more pronounced, though quite
indigenous to its source.
The color
palette here is mostly subdued. Yet, there remains a handful of shots that
still suffer from a sudden drop in overall color saturation. Otherwise, the
image here should NOT disappoint. The DTS 2.0 audio is the perfect compliment
for this dialogue-driven caper, achieving subtly nuanced clarity in dialogue
and SFX. Kino has shelled out for a new audio commentary from historian, David
Del Valle, as well as having ported over another, featuring historian, Philip
Kemp. These tracks are available on both the 4K and accompanying Blu. The rest
of the extras are housed on the Blu exclusively, and include the 1.66:1
version, two vintage featurettes: one on the restoration, the other, Forever
Ealing (2002) – dedicated to the studio that made it all possible. There
are also brief interviews with Allan Scott, Ronald Harwood and Terrance Davies,
plus a theatrical trailer.
It all sounds
good until one pauses to consider what has been lost in translation from
StudioCanal’s native U.K. 4K release – region free in 4K but region ‘B’ locked
for the Blu – to Kino’s state’s side reissue. Absent here, the 41-min. Investigating
The Ladykillers – a brilliant documentary on the making of the
film, Color in The Ladykillers – a 16-min. interview with Keith
Johnston on the visual style of the movie, a spoof trailer put together by
Peter Sellers, an extensive gallery of production photos, two full,
hour-and-a-half audio-only interviews, the first with assistant director, Tom
Pevsner, another with production manager David Peers, an excised clip from BBC’s
Omnibus, and, a 61-minute CD containing 18 tracks of Tristram Cary’s
underscore – plus, lobby cards and a handsomely produced, 64-page illustrated
booklet.
Bottom line:
Kino Lorber’s 4K/Blu-ray combo of The Ladykillers makes the movie
available in ‘region A’ in UHD and Blu-ray. But it short-shrifts us on the
goodies. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS
2
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