#25 - KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS
"I was sorry about the girl, but found some relief in the reflection that she had presumably during the weekend already undergone a fate worse than death." ~Mazzini, on killing his cousin's mistress along with his cousin.
Kind Hearts and Coronets
1949
Director: Robert Hamer (Ealing Studios)
Starring: Dennis Price, Valerie Hobson, Joan Greenwood, Alec Guinness
Where to begin? Kind Hearts and Coronets is, to me, the epitome of black comedy. The plot seems like the makings of a horror film: in order to exact revenge on his snobbish upper class relatives, poor Louis Mazzini (Dennis Price) goes about methodically killing all eight of his cousins, aunts, and uncles (all played amazingly by Alec Guinness) in the D'Ascoyne clan who stand between him and a dukedom. And yet, with such a morbid description, the film maintains an almost unsettlingly upbeat tone. It is a strange marriage of humor and murder, much along the lines of most Coen Brothers films, and certainly highly unusual for a film from 1949.
The film opens with Mazzini, in prison and awaiting his imminent execution, setting about the task of writing his memoirs. He coolly and calmly narrates his childhood, adolescence, and the slight the D'Ascoynes showed his mother that supposedly lead to his decision to off them all. He describes his discomfort with being poor when he seems to think he was obviously to the manor born. This is, of course, ironic: Louis is punishing the D'Ascoynes for their class snobbery (his mother married beneath her), and yet he himself is perhaps the biggest snob in the film. His sense of entitlement propels him to truly horrific heights, all of which he naturally downplays in his memoirs.
I have perhaps made Louis sound unlikeable and the D'Ascoynes, innocent victims. This is hardly the case. The D'Ascoynes are fools. Most of them truly seem to have deserved their death, and they undoubtedly represent the worst stereotypes of British Upper Crust. Louis, though dastardly through and through, nonetheless is highly charming and intelligent. We can see why the D'Ascoynes were all taken in by his variety of disguises throughout the film.
Driving much of the narrative, along with Louis' hunt of the D'Ascoyne clan, is his relationship with two women: the boring, staid, and suitable-for-a-Duke Edith (Valerie Hobson), and the conniving, gold-digging, sexy Sibella (Joan Greenwood). Of course Louis marries Edith, who is the appropriate choice between the two, but it is his relationship with Sibella that is more interesting, varied, and colorful. As children, Louis loves Sibella, but she scorns him because of his poverty. Louis claims that it was his mother's mistreatment that drives his horrible actions, but this is highly doubtful when we consider just how much influence Sibella has over him. Has he done all of this in order to impress this weasel? Likely, but we won't know for sure. Do they deserve each other? They are both rotten, and yet Louis may just have to rely on rotten Sibella to extricate himself from the hole he has dug. Joan Greenwood is a marvelous Sibella; purring her lines to the men in her scenes, she practically writes a tutorial on how to manipulate a man. It is wonderfully devilish to see unfold. Hers is a character you love to hate because she is just so wily. By the end of the film, you know that Louis cannot trust Sibella; yet, he just might have to in order to save himself.
Throughout the film, the story, the wonderful characters, what makes this ultimately a comedy is the light and airy nature that the film is presented in. Everything is coolly detached. Our "hero," for lack of a better word, remarks at how difficult it is to kill someone that you are not on close terms with. You marvel at his detachment, which, in turn, detaches you, the audience member, from the atrocities within. All the scenes are brightly lit. There is nary a shadow to be found. It is as if the director wanted to distance this film from the films noir of the time. To quote another review, evil is more dastardly when it is out in the sunshine instead of hiding in the shadows. There is no hiding of evil in this film - it's right in front of you, tempting you to laugh at it through a gloriously pristine portrayal.
No review of Kind Hearts and Coronets would be complete without a mention of Alec Guinness. He plays eight roles here. EIGHT roles. And manages to make them all, even the smallest of them, unique. He is fantastic, unbelievable, and light years away (pun intended) from Obi Wan Kenobi.
For being, at first glance, a trifle of a film, a frothy diversion, Kind Hearts and Coronets has unexpected layers. Class warfare, homicide, serial killers, eroticism - it's all here, rolled up into an exquisite petit four.
Below, please enjoy a clip from the film showcasing Louis' detachment and Alec Guinness in drag.
Kind Hearts and Coronets
1949
Director: Robert Hamer (Ealing Studios)
Starring: Dennis Price, Valerie Hobson, Joan Greenwood, Alec Guinness
Where to begin? Kind Hearts and Coronets is, to me, the epitome of black comedy. The plot seems like the makings of a horror film: in order to exact revenge on his snobbish upper class relatives, poor Louis Mazzini (Dennis Price) goes about methodically killing all eight of his cousins, aunts, and uncles (all played amazingly by Alec Guinness) in the D'Ascoyne clan who stand between him and a dukedom. And yet, with such a morbid description, the film maintains an almost unsettlingly upbeat tone. It is a strange marriage of humor and murder, much along the lines of most Coen Brothers films, and certainly highly unusual for a film from 1949.
The film opens with Mazzini, in prison and awaiting his imminent execution, setting about the task of writing his memoirs. He coolly and calmly narrates his childhood, adolescence, and the slight the D'Ascoynes showed his mother that supposedly lead to his decision to off them all. He describes his discomfort with being poor when he seems to think he was obviously to the manor born. This is, of course, ironic: Louis is punishing the D'Ascoynes for their class snobbery (his mother married beneath her), and yet he himself is perhaps the biggest snob in the film. His sense of entitlement propels him to truly horrific heights, all of which he naturally downplays in his memoirs.
I have perhaps made Louis sound unlikeable and the D'Ascoynes, innocent victims. This is hardly the case. The D'Ascoynes are fools. Most of them truly seem to have deserved their death, and they undoubtedly represent the worst stereotypes of British Upper Crust. Louis, though dastardly through and through, nonetheless is highly charming and intelligent. We can see why the D'Ascoynes were all taken in by his variety of disguises throughout the film.
Driving much of the narrative, along with Louis' hunt of the D'Ascoyne clan, is his relationship with two women: the boring, staid, and suitable-for-a-Duke Edith (Valerie Hobson), and the conniving, gold-digging, sexy Sibella (Joan Greenwood). Of course Louis marries Edith, who is the appropriate choice between the two, but it is his relationship with Sibella that is more interesting, varied, and colorful. As children, Louis loves Sibella, but she scorns him because of his poverty. Louis claims that it was his mother's mistreatment that drives his horrible actions, but this is highly doubtful when we consider just how much influence Sibella has over him. Has he done all of this in order to impress this weasel? Likely, but we won't know for sure. Do they deserve each other? They are both rotten, and yet Louis may just have to rely on rotten Sibella to extricate himself from the hole he has dug. Joan Greenwood is a marvelous Sibella; purring her lines to the men in her scenes, she practically writes a tutorial on how to manipulate a man. It is wonderfully devilish to see unfold. Hers is a character you love to hate because she is just so wily. By the end of the film, you know that Louis cannot trust Sibella; yet, he just might have to in order to save himself.
Throughout the film, the story, the wonderful characters, what makes this ultimately a comedy is the light and airy nature that the film is presented in. Everything is coolly detached. Our "hero," for lack of a better word, remarks at how difficult it is to kill someone that you are not on close terms with. You marvel at his detachment, which, in turn, detaches you, the audience member, from the atrocities within. All the scenes are brightly lit. There is nary a shadow to be found. It is as if the director wanted to distance this film from the films noir of the time. To quote another review, evil is more dastardly when it is out in the sunshine instead of hiding in the shadows. There is no hiding of evil in this film - it's right in front of you, tempting you to laugh at it through a gloriously pristine portrayal.
No review of Kind Hearts and Coronets would be complete without a mention of Alec Guinness. He plays eight roles here. EIGHT roles. And manages to make them all, even the smallest of them, unique. He is fantastic, unbelievable, and light years away (pun intended) from Obi Wan Kenobi.
For being, at first glance, a trifle of a film, a frothy diversion, Kind Hearts and Coronets has unexpected layers. Class warfare, homicide, serial killers, eroticism - it's all here, rolled up into an exquisite petit four.
Below, please enjoy a clip from the film showcasing Louis' detachment and Alec Guinness in drag.
Click to view