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Here's
the first problem, though: Hanks is not funny. Man, does he give
this role his all, though. Sporting a ridiculous goatee, twitching,
stuttering, and speaking in an accent that can't decide if it's
Henry Higgins or Foghorn Leghorn, Hanks portrays Professor G.H.
Dorr (is he really a professor or just an educated con artist?
Who knows?), a monstrously self-satisfied, garrulous individual
who hires a diverse and motley crew of outcasts to help him rob
a casino.
He
rents a basement room in the house of Marva Munson (Irma P. Hall),
an elderly, hefty, good-hearted black churchgoer, and disguises
himself and his pack as gospel musicians. Then, while they are
supposedly practicing, they burrow through her wall, which connects
with the casino's money vault. When she catches on, they plan
to kill her.
Sounds
like a deliciously macabre, Coens-style comedy in the making,
doesn't it? Well, here's Problem #2: the Coens aren't that funny
this time, either. This is their third major disappointment-it's
still impossible to use a harsh word like "strike" when
referring to artists this gifted-after the dull "Man Who
Wasn't There" and the flimsy "Intolerable Cruelty."
When
the Coens aren't devoting far, far too much screen-time to Hanks'
tiresome professor, they're ripping themselves off: there are
jokes involving severed limbs and gun mishaps, which they've dealt
with better before. The severed toe in "Big Lebowski"
provoked one of the funniest arguments ever recorded on-screen.
Why'd they have to attempt it again?
And
perhaps the Coens should stop remaking, or paying homage to, older
films. The lack of originality always shows, and this one is basically
a more foul-mouthed version of William Rose's 1955 film of the
same name.
Still,
a Coens' film is never fully deprived of "little gems,"
stand-out moments that indicate there could have been a classic
movie. In this case, most of these moments involve the vicious
rivalry between the two most heavily clashing criminals: Gawain
MacSam (Marlon Wayans), a constantly swearing man-child who works
as a janitor at the casino, and Garth Pancake (T.K. Simmons),
a mustachioed Donald Sutherland look-alike with a nasty bowel
condition. Watching these two go at it reveals that nastier, darker
Coens edge, and their banter gets funnier as the film progresses.
Also
hilarious is Tzi Ma as a crazed, violent storekeeper referred
to as The General. Yes, he's a total Asian stereotype, impetuously
choking others and speaking only in two-word sentences-I believe
"Kill lady" is his only line for the last half of the
film-but he adds some much-needed broad humor, like repeatedly
swallowing his cigarettes, to balance out that windbag professor's
lengthy speeches.
And
Hall, as the immense keeper of the house, is astonishingly natural
throughout, from her opening rant lamenting the bigotry of hip-hop
to her last cheerful stride. Forget about the low moments when
the script calls on her to slap Wayans around — how much
longer will the cliché of old black women slapping potty-mouthed
black men around be relied on by Hollywood? Or snore like a bloated
hippo. Her wit and grace fit right into the Coens' agenda, and
they should definitely hire her again.
Hanks
was funny once, a gifted, raucous, highly physical performer who
lent a certain dignity to trash like "Bachelor Party."
So why did the Coens' cast him as this insufferable bore? To show
off their vocabulary? Furthermore, why don't the volatile Wayans,
the belligerent Ma and the just-plain-stupid fifth member, high-school
athlete Lump Hudson (Ryan Hurst), ever lash out at the interminably
condescending Hanks? In a better film, the Coens would not have
let Hanks' underlings respect him so dutifully; they would have
enabled potentially hilarious conflicts to break forth.
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