Favourite Film: The Ladykillers (1955)

This post has been reposted here

Whenever asked my favourite film I say The Ladykillers, without hesitation.  Considering I have difficulty deciding my favourite colour this speaks volumes.  The 1955 black comedy blends social-commentary caricatures, meaningful music, and a perfect cast, to create something that is, in my mind, unparalleled in charm.

The film is set in post-war Britain, close to King’s Cross railway station.  Policemen stand dutifully on every street corner, a red telephone box is never more than a stone-throw away, and steam trains endlessly billow by.  These are relics of a fleeting British dynasty.  Sitting amongst the remnants is a sweet little house, advertising rooms to let.  It is here a gang, who caricature all that threatens society, decide to base their operation.  They intend to use the owner, a dotty old dear called Mrs. Wilberforce, in their plan to steal £60,000, by having her carry the money without her knowledge.  To paraphrase ‘Professor’ Marcus, leader of the criminal ‘quintet’ (their cover story is that they are a travelling musical group), what could possibly go wrong?

The devilish 'Professor' Marcus, played by Alec Guinness.

To begin answering this question we need only listen to the opening minutes of the film.  The credits (yes, back in the day they were short enough to appear at the beginning) are accompanied by a particularly sinister score.  However the film itself immediately begins with an overwhelmingly blissful tune, as Mrs. Wilberforce makes a (no-doubt frequent) visit to the police station, to dissipate rumours of extra-terrestrial activity.  The juxtaposition of this music, where blissful overpowers sinister, appropriately reminds me of Plutus, the god of greed in Dante’s Inferno.  When first introduced he is imposing, but suddenly—“mast breaks”—he crumples, wind taken from sails, when told the Pilgrim’s journey is divinely willed.  From the outset there is this sense that menace may have met its match, at the hands of a pensioner.

Mrs. Wilberforce has a kind of vitality, with which the mob cannot compete.  First, as Marcus’s shadow encroaches, she is seen hammering a water pipe in a burst of violence.  Then, while perfectly sweet around the gang, she has the kind of persistence that seems to be exclusive to old people (or in the very least has reached point of perfection in my grandmother).  I mean to say that the one thing an old person never tires of is their own voice.  No matter how much you feel drained by their asking for the dozenth time (as Mrs. W does) whether you would like a cup of tea, or by tales of their youth, they remain chirpy and energetic.  It is as if they are feeding off your very life force.  As consequence, and to the credit of the gang’s plan, the police have an amusing habit of neglecting the significance of what Mrs. Wilberforce says.  However, the gang also quickly take on a tired, defeated manner.

To further emphasise her vitality, Mrs. Wilberforce is herself a relic of a time when Britain ruled the waves, and is symbolically what remains of society's fragmenting moral fibre.  She has been through a lot in her lifetime; her home, for example, suffers from subsidence, due to the bombings, and is in itself defiant when Marcus tries to straighten a painting.  Try as the mob might to scare her in to silence, she stands firm, unafraid.  She takes cue from her deceased husband, a Naval Captain who honourably went down with his ship.  Try then as the mob might to wring her neck, they cannot.  Some feel ashamed at her scolding.  Others shift their loyalty.  Even the worst of them, Louis – who first arrives at the house holding his violin case as a gangster would a machine gun – tries his best to avoid the task.

Mrs. Wilberforce (Katie Johnson) is "shocked and appalled".

The film is made all the more memorable by a series of pantomime-like incidences brought about by Mrs. Wilberforce’s meddling, which the gang must either wrangle with, or stare upon in horror.  Examples are their trying to give General Gordon, her parrot, his medicine; the immense tension that is created by her umbrella; and the street brawl she leaves in her wake, best surmised by Harry (Peter Sellers): “She’s probably been deserving [the chop] her whole life […] all of them out of business in 10 minutes.”  It all takes its toll on the gang.

So far I’ve dedicated inordinate time to Mrs. Wilberforce, without really touching upon the rest of the cast.  This is partly forgivable; I am sure a good portion of those that have seen the film will agree that the seventy-six year old actress, Katie Johnson, almost steals the show.  I must however emphasise just how good the entire ensemble is.

Alec Guinness, in particular, is superb.  Nowadays many may only be familiar with his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi, in Star Wars (1977).  I cannot imagine a character that is more the polar opposite.  Here he is delightfully evil; a scheming, calculating, and increasingly deranged ‘master brain’.  His subtle mannerisms and devilish grin supersede those of any on-screen villain I can think of.  The snag of Mrs. Wilberforce affects his state of mind most profoundly, and he comes to illustrate just how fine a line there is between genius and madness.

“She’ll always be with us,” he says.  And he is right.  This is a film experience that will be with you, always.

Trailer embedded as I find style amusing. Those undecided should watch. It shows much mentioned in review, and gives sense of the quirkiness I adore.