Margaret Lockwood and James Mason bring welcome heat to The Man in Grey, a costume melodrama that takes too long to get on with its pleasures. Worth considering chiefly for their performances.
Leslie Arliss’s The Man in Grey has enough pleasure in bad behaviour to justify a look, but only if costume melodrama is already a taste. At 116 minutes, this adaptation of Eleanor Smith’s novel asks for more patience than its romantic drama consistently earns. Margaret Lockwood and James Mason provide the strongest reasons to stay. When their performances are not supplying the excitement, the film can seem in no particular hurry to supply anything else.
James Mason’s Lord Rohan is the chief attraction, a disagreeable man played with an assurance that makes his company surprisingly enjoyable. We enjoyed his caddishness more than we ought to have. The pleasure comes from the conviction of the performance: unpleasantness is allowed to be attractive, without requiring us to approve of it. That is useful in a melodrama, where an actor’s willingness to embrace bad behaviour can keep us watching through quite a lot of trouble elsewhere.
Margaret Lockwood, playing Hesther Shaw Barbary, gives the romance some welcome urgency. Her performance helps prevent the material from becoming merely dutiful, and the appeal of watching these two actors at work is easy to understand. Phyllis Calvert and Stewart Granger complete the principal quartet, giving the film a cast that encourages us to persist through its less rewarding passages. The difficulty is sustaining that interest across the full running time, rather than repeatedly having to recover it.
Arthur Crabtree’s cinematography, Elizabeth Haffenden’s costume design and Cedric Mallabey’s music contribute to an entertainment whose appeal depends heavily on its presentation. That is a legitimate pleasure, particularly in a costume romance. The difficulty comes when there is too little dramatic urgency to accompany it. However agreeable the presentation, we still need a reason for a scene to continue, and the film does not always provide one strong enough to justify the time it takes.
The weakness is the amount of waiting. R.E. Dearing’s editing leaves the material more room than it needs, though that cannot fairly be blamed on the editor alone. The screenplay by Margaret Kennedy and Leslie Arliss too often feels content to prolong matters after we have grasped their interest. Predictability need not damage melodrama, since anticipating trouble can be part of the enjoyment. Here, the slackness allows that anticipation to become impatience, leaving the performers to win back our attention.
The genre gives the film plenty of permission to be extravagant. Broad characterisation and excessive feeling are welcome when the scenes keep putting pressure on the people involved. This one relaxes that pressure too readily, separating its enjoyable acting with stretches that feel longer than they should. Admirers of costume romance will be better placed to forgive those stretches than anyone coming chiefly for a gripping story, especially if James Mason is already part of the attraction.
There is enough here to resist dismissing it as an exercise in dressing up. The performances have an appetite for the material that remains engaging, even when the pace makes it difficult to share that appetite continuously. But the slowness matters, and affection for the cast will not remove it. Choose The Man in Grey for an evening when a splendidly unpleasant lord will be sufficient entertainment for rather longer than he should have to be.