IT SOUNDS like a recipe for disaster: remaking a quintessentially British 1955 Alec Guinness-Peter Sellers comedy and translating the story to the American South.

However, this spicy new version of The Ladykillers has plenty going for it; most notably the holy filmmaking triumvirate of writer-directors Joel and Ethan Coen and leading man Tom Hanks.

Admittedly, there are elements of the Coens' update which stick in the throat and Hanks' exuberant lead performance isn't one of his most compelling.

Yet the film's impeccable sense of style and furious pacing more than sustain our interest through the script's many hairpin twists and turns.

Charlatan professor Goldthwait Higginson Dorr, PhD (Hanks) is secretly plotting a daring casino robbery.

He has assembled a five-strong team of crack professionals to orchestrate the plan including explosives expert Garth Pancake (Simmons), tunnelling wizard The General (Ma), dim-witted muscle man Lump (Hurst) and casino cleaner and 'inside man' Gawain MacSam (Wayans).

The felonious five pose as a church band and hire the cellar in a house owned by Mrs Munson (Hall) as their base of operations, under the auspices of needing somewhere to practice their music.

In fact, The General intends to excavate a tunnel from Mrs Munson's basement straight into the casino vault.

When Mrs Munson accidentally unearths Dorr's plan she threatens to tell the authorities and the professor and his associates have no choice but to permanently silence the old lady.

However, knocking off the ageing witness turns out to be much more difficult than any of them could have anticipated.

The Ladykillers looks gorgeous, subtly integrating computer special effects to evoke a quaint and charming vision of small town Mississippi, melding influences from the 30s, 70s and the present day.

Dialogue crackles with great one-liners and Hanks' eccentric lead performance (complete with oversized dentistry) is matched by Hall's turn as a Southern Baptist church lady who hates all of the new-fangled 'hippity-hoppity music'.

Only Wayans seems out of place, cussing as if his character's good health depended on it.

The big set-pieces are orchestrated with brio and the humour is deliciously black at times.

Effortlessly entertaining but a showy imitation of the Ealing original.

DAMON SMITH