Movie Review: The Ladykillers

Ah, Tom Hanks.
I miss him, a lot of the time. I mean, technically, I wasn't around for his "funny" stage, or his "Oscar" stage—well, by then, I was alive, but I certainly wasn’t watching Philadelphia.
But nonetheless, when I see him producing a dud like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, or crushing on a volleyball, or marrying Rita Wilson, I mourn for the bygone days of yore, like Big or even “Bosom Buddies.” Seeing him in a Coen-helmed flick like The Ladykillers made me very excited for a return of the Forest Gump accent and the That Thing You Do! sensibility.
Luckily, Hanks is the best thing about the movie. As it’s the Coens, the whole thing is rather hilarious, but by far the best thing was seeing a kindred over-thesaurus-izer in Hanks’ greedy, genteel Professor G.H. Dorr. The Professor has hatched a get-rich-quick scheme, and has complied a plucky band of misfits, each with their own talents and flaws, who can help him overcome all obstacles and beat the big, bad casinio-workers at their own game: getting rich indecently. In his posse, there is: Garth Pancake (J.K. Simmons, about whom I quite literaly shouted ”Hey! It’s that guy!”), a vaguely hippy-ish explosives expert with irritable bowel syndrom and a girlfriend who shares a name with that of Jerry Garcia (her name is Mountain Girl, and she is played by Diane Delano); The General (Tzi Ma), a Buddhist with deadly accuracy and other stereotypical Asian traits; Lump Hudson (Ryan Hearst), who is as his first name would suggest—a large, dumb, strong football player; and Gawain McSwain (Marlon Wayans, who, by the way, looks terrible in whitefaced drag from the previews), a tough-talking, hip-hop listen janitor who is the “inside man” at the casino. This quirky group plots and digs and argues in the basement of Marva Munson (Irma P. Hall), an old-fashioned Christain widow whom the Professor charms into allowing him to rent a room and use the basement for “rehersal” for their band of medieval chamber musicians. Naturally, wacky hijinx ensue.
Now, this movie is a remake of an Alec Guinesss (a.k.a. Obi-Wan Kenobi) movie that I never saw, but that is widely regarded to be “better.” Therefore, I feel ill-at-ease about passing judgement on the wacky hijinx, but wow! They sure are wacky! The attempts at slapstick and laugh-out-loud gaggery feel forced a lot of the time. The Coen touch comes out just enough to make the movie worth sitting through, but all in all, the movie is utterly pointless. There’s a nice collection of jokes scattered throughout the movie, and all the performances bar Mr. Wayans are comic golden ore, waiting to be mined fully (Mr. Wayans’ seems to be an attempt at lowbrow, “black people are different than white people” and “young people are differnent than old people!” comic relief, which is strange for an otherwise intelligent comedy).
The moive just leaves a feeling that more could be done. If the Coens had composed their own plot, and assembled the actors, and included as many of the jokes as possible, the movie would have been an intensely humorous. However, the film as is makes no lasting impression, and provides only a few good chuckles and a few more “Shut up, whichever Wayans brother you are” than anyone could possibly want.