Man of Evil

This Victorian melodrama has enough plot to fill several volumes and is, what you might call, 'a rum yarn'. Anthony Asquith's "Fanny By Gaslight" was based on a best-selling novel by Michael Sadleir and was a huge hit in its native Britain and it's an exemplary example of its kind. Phyllis Calvert is Fanny and let's just say what happens to her in the course of this tale would put any Dickens heroine to shame or to quote Thelma Ritter, 'all that's missing is the bloodhounds snapping at her rear end'. Stewart Granger is the young man who loves her and James Mason, the nasty brute who would like to ruin her and others in the fine cast include Wilfred Lawson, Jean Kent, Margaretta Sccott, Cathleen Nesbitt and Nora Swinburne. Given that it's basically a soap opera, Asquith handles it with considerable aplomb and the performances are first-rate. If it's a guilty pleasure, it's certainly a highly enjoyable one.

This is a response to the reviewers who write things like "This movie is good for its time." Works of art reflect their era. That is an axiom, not a weakness, and "Fanny by Gaslight" very much reflects the morals and class system of Victorian England. But it also explores timeless themes: loyalty, greed, forgiveness, and love both romantic and familial.

Ironically, the viewers who air such views suffer from the very thing they accuse the movie of: being stuck in their own era. Perfect example, the reviewer who called this movie "stilted and rather tame." If you watch it on its terms, it is neither. Another began the review, "This is a story that doesn't age well," then proceeded to praise the presentation of the protagonist: "With every revelation, she has to make a choice about whether to live her life honestly or prudently." That is a timeless theme.

"Fanny by Gaslight" is admirable as cinema as well: finely paced and structured by director Anthony Asquith; beautifully shot by Arthur Crabtree (a Hitchcock protégée); and with sensitive portrayals by all the actors, even minor roles.

I first saw this movie at one of the local movie theaters around Times Square, New York, that frequently featured second run British movies.

My original intention was to see James Mason and Stewart Granger face off against each other. Instead, I found myself falling in love with the heroine played by Phyllis Calvert, who immediately became my favorite British actress.

The story may smack of soap opera; I've followed several in my time, and yet this story, admittedly overdone, I found to be very sympathetic, and immediately found myself falling in with the main protagonist, and wishing her to eventually prevail, despite all the adversity she had to face from so many individuals.

I have continued to love this movie and have gone back to seeing it many times. I admit that Stewart Granger is rather wooden at times and James Mason appears only at certain strategic moments. However, the player whom I found myself yearning more to see was Jean Kent; fortunately for her, she was given full opportunity to display her complete diversity in subsequent films, many of which I have also seen. (I would like to comment that Ms. Kent is happily still with us, approaching 90 as of next year.)

I agree that the moment where Stuart Lindsell as Fanny's natural father is about to kill himself because of pressures exerted by his erstwhile wife having become too much is right out of a horror story, at the moment where one sees those multiple mirror images.

Certain other players in this film I have also found to be quite believable considering the context - Wilfrid Lawson as Chunks, Amy Veness as Mrs. Heaviside, and perhaps one or two others.

In addition to James Mason, the individual contributions by Margaretta Scott and Cathleen Nesbitt are also sufficiently believable to invite our intense dislike, as each throwing another obstacle in the path of our heroine.

I understand that these impressions are purely individual; as with any work of art, we experience such in our own way. In my case, it made a very warm, positive impression on me - I cannot say exactly why. I would recommend it to anyone who likes high Victorian melodrama, mindful that I am not necessarily in a majority with my impression, but that is how I am. Chacun e son gout, as they say.

I just finished viewing Madonna of the Seven Moons, another film in this same Gainsborough series, and also featuring Phyllis Calvert, Jean Kent,and Stewart Granger. While this latter is a fascinating story based upon a multiple personality, I found it to be inferior in its cohesiveness and ability to draw the viewer in, compared with Fanny by Gaslight, which I have just commented on. I could easily imagine that the superior direction by Anthony Asquith may have something to do with it.

I greatly enjoy the Gainsborough films, especially those "bodice rippers", and with Mason as such a terrific heavy, making every moment of his limited screen time count, this is most enjoyable escapism.

Of course it is Phyllis Calvert as Fanny who dominates the film, ably supported by a well-chosen supporting cast. I much regret that my favorite contemporary British director, Ken Russell, was never able to realize his last major project -a new version of "Moll Flanders", but seeing this 1944 costume picture some 80 years after courtesy of YouTube makes up for it thanks to a very fine British print.

I did want to like this British 40s movie, but there's just too much against it - Phyllis Calvert, who acquires a terribly chic accent straight from school; wooden Stewart Granger as the parliamentary secretary who loves Fanny; John Laurie as her dad with an illicit business on the side; politicians self-destructing; and far too little of James Mason, here giving yet another brooding and sadistic, sardonic aristocrat.

'Fanny By Gaslight' does try - it manages to get subject matter into it that must have seemed very daring in the 1940s, it starts well and grows into some good scenes between Fanny ('only Hooper') and her employer's wife. Then - perhaps because of Granger, IMO - it starts to backfire badly and become a bore. A great disappointment.