The Ealing Comedies constitute their own specific sub-genre in the history of film. They were wry, droll reflections on British life in the late Forties and early Fifties. They are always amusing but I feel it is misleading to characterise them as comedies. They are breezy and good-humoured, rather than laugh-out-loud funny. However, the best of them are laced with understated satire and shot through with an occasional dark streak (epecially Kind Hearts and Coronets and The Ladykillers).
I have an affection for all of them, but The Lavender Hill Mob is probably the one I have most difficulty with. Compared to the others, it seems somewhat perfunctory. To me, it is an outline sketch for a movie, but one that needed to spend a lot more time in development before it was ready to go before the cameras.
Everything about it is a bit undercooked. For example, nobody is given any real context or background. Henry is simply a dutiful drudge, whose secret dreams and hidden ambitions go unrecognised, while Albert is a frustrated artist forced to prostitute his talent by making gift shop trash for a living. This establishes a motive for their crime, but nothing that subsequently happens is a consequence either of their characters or their plan.
Other characters are introduced but play no real part in the story. The elderly resident in Henry's guest house could (with her love of detective stories) have been made an unwitting thorn in his side, but is merely used as background 'colour'. Similarly, the various policemen who pop in and out of the action are simply there to keep the plot ticking along.
As a result, the movie is driven entirely by its contrived plot devices, which I find both frustrating and faintly irritating. The not-very-ingenious robbery is accomplished with minimal problems, despite Albert being prevented from carrying out his part in the plan (by Sidney Tafler's Clayton). The gold is then smuggled to France without mishap. Everything would have gone smoothly if it wasn't for a minor hitch, lamely based on the French pronunciation of the letter 'R', which results in six of the gold Eiffel Towers being accidentally sold to some English schoolgirls.
This leads to a series of frantic chases as Henry and Albert seek to retrieve them. These scenes are well executed, but at each point the conspirators are frustrated in their pursuit of the schoolgirls by a series of wholly factitious accidents. It is as if God is deliberately intervening to give them a hard time. This kind of plotting always has me grinding my teeth.
When they finally track the last Eiffel Tower to a Police Academy exhibition and snatch it from under the nose of John Gregson's Police Inspector (why is he there, anyway?) all shreds of plot logic are abandoned. The final car chases are then simply filling up screen time until we are returned to the framing device with which the picture began.
The movie doesn't even bother to tell us the fate of Albert (Stanley Holloway), Lackery (Sid James) and Shorty (Alfie Bass).
This genial little caper has the professionalism of the Ealing team behind it, so it is far from being a bad movie. I suspect most viewers will find it considerably more enjoyable than I do (and why shouldn't they?), but I cannot help thinking there was a much better movie waiting to be made, if only more time and effort had been expended on fleshing out both the characters and the story.
By the standards established by Ealing, Lavender Hill Mob is a missed opportunity.
PS: One curious footnote is that Audrey Hepburn gets a credit for her single line early on, but Archie Duncan remains anonymous despite his much more substantial contribution. I guess she just had a better agent.
I have an affection for all of them, but The Lavender Hill Mob is probably the one I have most difficulty with. Compared to the others, it seems somewhat perfunctory. To me, it is an outline sketch for a movie, but one that needed to spend a lot more time in development before it was ready to go before the cameras.
Everything about it is a bit undercooked. For example, nobody is given any real context or background. Henry is simply a dutiful drudge, whose secret dreams and hidden ambitions go unrecognised, while Albert is a frustrated artist forced to prostitute his talent by making gift shop trash for a living. This establishes a motive for their crime, but nothing that subsequently happens is a consequence either of their characters or their plan.
Other characters are introduced but play no real part in the story. The elderly resident in Henry's guest house could (with her love of detective stories) have been made an unwitting thorn in his side, but is merely used as background 'colour'. Similarly, the various policemen who pop in and out of the action are simply there to keep the plot ticking along.
As a result, the movie is driven entirely by its contrived plot devices, which I find both frustrating and faintly irritating. The not-very-ingenious robbery is accomplished with minimal problems, despite Albert being prevented from carrying out his part in the plan (by Sidney Tafler's Clayton). The gold is then smuggled to France without mishap. Everything would have gone smoothly if it wasn't for a minor hitch, lamely based on the French pronunciation of the letter 'R', which results in six of the gold Eiffel Towers being accidentally sold to some English schoolgirls.
This leads to a series of frantic chases as Henry and Albert seek to retrieve them. These scenes are well executed, but at each point the conspirators are frustrated in their pursuit of the schoolgirls by a series of wholly factitious accidents. It is as if God is deliberately intervening to give them a hard time. This kind of plotting always has me grinding my teeth.
When they finally track the last Eiffel Tower to a Police Academy exhibition and snatch it from under the nose of John Gregson's Police Inspector (why is he there, anyway?) all shreds of plot logic are abandoned. The final car chases are then simply filling up screen time until we are returned to the framing device with which the picture began.
The movie doesn't even bother to tell us the fate of Albert (Stanley Holloway), Lackery (Sid James) and Shorty (Alfie Bass).
This genial little caper has the professionalism of the Ealing team behind it, so it is far from being a bad movie. I suspect most viewers will find it considerably more enjoyable than I do (and why shouldn't they?), but I cannot help thinking there was a much better movie waiting to be made, if only more time and effort had been expended on fleshing out both the characters and the story.
By the standards established by Ealing, Lavender Hill Mob is a missed opportunity.
PS: One curious footnote is that Audrey Hepburn gets a credit for her single line early on, but Archie Duncan remains anonymous despite his much more substantial contribution. I guess she just had a better agent.