The Man in Grey

The Man in Grey is directed by Leslie Arliss and adapted to screenplay by Margaret Kennedy and Doreen Montgomery from the novel of the same name written by Eleanor Smith. It stars Margaret Lockwood, James Mason, Phyllis Calvert and Stewart Granger. Music is By Cedric Mallabey and cinematography by Arthur Crabtree.

A forerunner of Gainsborough's Wicked Women movies, The Man in Grey is a delicious slice of British noir pie.

Proudly decked out in period attire, story is ripe with dastards, narcissists, connivers, the selfish and the cruel. Headed up by Mason's Lord Rohan and Lockwood's Hesther Shaw, these people will stop at nothing to get what they want in life. It doesn't matter who is around them, friends and family etc, if they can in any way hinder their respective selfish goals then they will be trampled upon and not a further thought will be given. It all simmers to the boiling point where lives will not just be ruined, but also ended.

The four principal players are great, their respective careers well on the way to leaving behind considerable bodies of work. Arliss (The Night Has Eyes) keeps the story simple in spite of the many character strands and traits jostling for meaty exposure, and photographer Crabtree (Waterloo Road) accentuates the miserablist ambiance with sharp black and white lensing.

The use of black-face on white actors is awfully out dated, as is some of the dialogue, but don't hold these things against The Man in Grey. It's a darn fine bodice botherer, resplendent with characters straight out of noir's dark alleyways. 8/10

Lord Rohan isn't to be blamed for wanting to marry a healthy young woman who will produce a male heir for him, nor is Clarissa to blame for so quickly accepting his proposal, after all her prospects weren't all that great. Nor can I blame Hester for wanting all the things she could never have growing up. No, this is just how it was in those days. I enjoyed Margaret Lockwood's performance the most; it's hard to show remorse in a cold, calculating character and she brings it off well. Calvert, Mason and Granger give her excellent support.

...and director Leslie Arliss. Clarissa Marr (Phyllis Calvert) is a young woman from a prominent family who is married off to Lord Rohan (James Mason). The cruel Lord only wants her to produce an heir, and otherwise leaves her to her own devices, especially once their son is born. Clarissa reconnects with a school acquaintance, Hesther Shaw (Margaret Lockwood), who had created a scandal with the way she had left. Hesther is now an itinerant actress, but Clarissa insists that she move in with her and become her companion. Hesther longs for the wealth and respectability that the Rohan name could give her, so she sets out to manipulate Clarissa's affections for an actor named Rokeby (Stewart Granger) in order to get her own hands on Lord Rohan. Also featuring Martita Hunt, Antony Scott, Helen Haye, Beatrice Varley, Raymond Lovell, and Nora Swinburne.

Released during the height of WW2, this period piece romantic melodrama became a surprise hit. The costumes and settings are finely wrought, particularly during a time of privation such as the war. Three of the lead performers are exceptionally good: Granger as the swaggering bon vivant Rokeby, Lockwood as the amoral scheming Hesther, and James Mason as the mercurial Rohan, who is at times detestable in every way, but rises to the ultimate occasion. Phyllis Calvert isn't bad either, but she's merely called on to be the innocent center around whom these other, showier, characters orbit. I enjoyed this movie quite a bit, especially the great ending crescendo, but there was one odious aspect that keeps my score lower. There's a character named Tobey, a black servant boy played by a white kid for no discernible reason. I'm also not even sure if he's supposed to be a kid or not, since he never changes, always looking like a 12 year old, despite years passing in the story. This character proves to be important to the plot, so he doesn't fade into the background as many insensitive characters do in films of the 30's and 40's. There's also some unfortunate dialogue related to this character. Yeah, it was a different time, but that doesn't make it anymore palatable. This is listed as one of the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die.

'The Man In Grey' was the first film in the cycle of Gainsborough costume melodramas (which ended in 1948 with 'The Bad Lord Byron') and it's easily one of the very best. At the time, it was the pairing of a superstar (Lockwood), a star (Mason), a rising star (Calvert) and a newcomer (Granger), a combination which catapulted all four to the top of their profession, and made them the four names most associated with the costume. It's a pity that the four never made another movie all together!

Margaret Lockwood as Hesther was just pure evil - a cold, calculating woman. One does get the idea that there is a small glimmer of kindness inside her, but she squashes it pretty quickly. Phyllis Calvert was as sweet as honey, as usual the beloved heroine. Her Clarissa is the main character of the tale - married off to Lord Rohan (Mason) because he desires an heir, she soon tires of his indifference and falls for traveling player Rokeby (Granger). Hesther (Lockwood) in turn falls for Rohan and he for her. And of course you know that's set for trouble. A hint of how much trouble? THIS is the film with the infamous horse-whip thrashing scene.

What's also interesting is the whole story is told in flashback, when Calvert and Granger, descendents of the Rohan and Rokeby families, meet at an auction of the Rohan estate. Nice to see a bit of modern dress for a change!

A good old-fashioned bodice-ripper, it was the first big success for Britain's Gainsborough Studios which decided to take on the big costume dramas of Hollywood with home-grown talent. Introducing to the masses soon-to-be-familiar names like Mason, Granger, Lockwood and Calvert, it set the template for succeeding and ever more successful variations on this particular formula, often employing different combinations of this same quartet of acting talent.

High art it isn't, based as it is on a popular novel of the day, but it's easy to imagine its populist and escapist appeal to a wartime audience. James Mason, for one, hated the film and his own acting in it but the fact of the matter is that it's his presence in the titular role, as the misogynistic, sadistic and decadent Lord Rohan, who despite his despised and feared personal characteristics has the fabulous wealth and high status which make him the most desirable bachelor of the day. This is how he meets the pretty, sparky, trusting debutante Clarissa Marr, played by Phyllis Calvert, whose mother offers her to Rohan at what can only be described as a female cattle market, indeed just like all the other mothers and daughters of the day in attendance.

However it's not long before the young bride comes to her senses after she does her wifely duty in siring him a son and heir at which opportune moment just when she feels doomed to a loveless marriage, into her life enters Granger's Peter Rokesby, an adventurer fallen on hard times but otherwise dashing, handsome and sincere in his feelings for her which she soon reciprocates.

Soon she gets him a place as librarian, of all things, at Rohan Hall but there's a viper in this new love-nest in the shape of the darkly beautiful Hesther Shaw, played with relish by Lockwood. Of low birth but with high ambitions, she uses Clarissa's desire for one good friend in her life to also enter the household and usurp her position as Rohan's woman of choice, becoming effectively his live-in mistress. This ABBA-esque set-up with all four new and ex-lovers under the one roof of course can't last with machinations on all sides of the quadrangle leading up to not one but two murders, one of them infamous for its brutality as Rohan gets the whip-hand over his wife's murderer.

Maybe I shouldn't have, but I really enjoyed this Regency romp. I found the "two-good, two-bad" interplay of the four main characters added a degree of psychological intrigue as the plot developed in sometimes surprising ways. It's not perfect, the young black boy (in obvious blackface, and why did he have to be black anyway?) who plays an important part in the denouement seems to be reading his lines off-screen, the background music is far too intrusive and I disliked the present-day framing device which threw together the descendants of Calvert and Granger to sweeten the ending.

But with its handsome and pretty leads, whirlwind action and impressive sets, it's easy to see why it was so successful in its day.