Before
gross-out humor became the almost-exclusive dominion of mainstream
studio comedies, there was significant dabbling in much darker and more
nuanced terrain, as evidenced by this 1949 treat from director Robert
Hamer. One of the more barbed laughers of its era, Kind Hearts and Coronets
centers on an embittered young commoner who develops a case of
birthright tunnel vision, working to secure by any means necessary what
he thinks is his rightful heritage — the dukedom of an aristocratic
family. In doing so, the movie lays one of the first cornerstones for
an entire generation of objectionable film protagonists to follow.

Dennis
Price stars as Louis Mazzini, an impoverished shop attendant who
becomes determined to avenge he and his mother’s unjust disinheritance
by bumping off all those in front of him in the D’Ascoyne line of
hierarchy. Long before Eddie Murphy’s latex-aided adventures as Sherman
Klump and his brethren, and even Peter Sellars’ multiple turns in Dr. Stangelove,
Alec Guinness would dazzle in playing all eight doomed characters,
imbuing each with small but telling and amusing details. From gunplay
to a hot-air-balloon mishap, there are more deadly permutations on
display here than in Clue.

Given the production code of the time, the satirical film’s ending
was altered in the United States, nipping in the bud any mortifying
reading that crime might pay. (That swapped ending is glimpsed herein.)
Still, Hamer and John Dighton’s sparkling adaptation of Roy Horniman’s
novel chiefly pulls Kind Hearts and Coronets along, with its
mordant wit and some crackling dialogue. The crisp characterizations,
though, are what really make it sing; Price gives the performance of
his career.

Packaged in a double-sized Amray case, Criterion’s two-disc release
features a new, restored, high-definition digital transfer presented in
1.33:1 full screen, preserving the original aspect ratio of the film’s
release. The monaural sound mix satisfies the basic requirements of the
relatively straightforward audio presentation, and the more base DVD
extras include the movie’s original theatrical trailer and a
substantial gallery of production and publicity photographs. Additional
English subtitles are also available. The second disc of supplemental
material, though, is where the real meat is found. A feature-length
television documentary on the history of Ealing Studios is interesting
for Anglophiles, but even better is a rare, 1977 talk show appearance
by Guinness (clocking in at a whopping 70 minutes!) in which he
discusses, amongst other things, his work on a little movie called Star Wars
and a chance meeting with James Dean a week before his death. A 14-page
insert booklet with an essay by film critic Philip Kemp rounds things
out nicely. A- (Movie) B+ (Disc)