Following chronologically
in the Gainsborough series, “Fanny by Gaslight” (1944) proved that “The Man in
Grey” had been no flash in the pan. Again there were packed cinemas wherever
the film was shown, and this time even the critics responded warmly. Director
Anthony Asquith certainly toned down some the over-heated emotions and
introduced a more realistic atmosphere, but it is still the melodramatic moments
which stick in the mind, with James Mason once again the dark, brooding villain
- one moment suave and charming, the next malicious and cruel. In an archetypal
Gainsborough scene he is at a restaurant with his wife, played by Margaretta
Scott: continually he scans surrounding tables, smiling at the women until,
exasperated, Scott demands attention and a confirmation of his love - Mason simply
turns to her and quietly states, as he kisses her hand, ‘I've never loved you.’
Mason is a vital part of the melodramas
(a mantle mainly inherited by Dennis Price in later films), seemingly without
any sort of motivation to inspire the unrelieved depravity and cruelty in which
he indulges but nevertheless proving a powerful and charismatic figure. Mason
himself was unable to explain how he played the parts. On “The Man In Grey” he
said it was due to his inability to get on with director Arliss. ‘I wallowed in
a stupidly black mood throughout and since my own imagination had contributed
nothing to the character who appeared on the screen, I have to conclude that
only my permanent aggravation gave the character colour and made it some sort of
memorable thing’. Indeed, the fact that he seemed to be able to play these
parts with such ease always disturbed Mason. who felt it was revealing a
subdued aspect of his own personality; perhaps the reason for his popularity
was that he also awakened the dark side of the viewer.
Phyllis Calvert, in the title role of
Fanny, also gives a committed performance, initial innocence transforms to
reality and a growing sense of responsibility. Based on the bestselling Michael
Sadlier novel, the story centres round her tempestuous life, from an initially
happy childhood home to the degradation of poverty and servitude, before her
eventual salvation in the form of true love (and Stewart Granger, naturally).
The budget was once again relatively low (£90,000),
but Asquith and cameraman Arthur Crabtree use the cramped interiors to great
effect. This was mainly achieved by the clever placing of mirrors to give the
appearance of depth and size that the sets would not otherwise have. The public
loved every second ‑ the film grossed more than £300,000 on the first release
and guaranteed the continuation of Gainsborough Studios for the next decade.
With the third film, Gainsborough
began to perfect the formula, melding the visual elements of “Fanny By Gaslight”
with the helterskelter histrionics of “The Man In Grey” to create a deliciously
absurd whole. Once again the source material was a well‑known novel, though
little but the premise remained intact. “Madonna Of The Seven Moons” (1944) is
shot through with burning passion and longing which burn from every frame, and
is unmitigated melodrama from start to finish.
The central casting reteams Phyllis
Calvert and Stewart Granger, the former giving another impressive performance
as the schizophrenic Madalena / Rosanna, outwardly the quiet, discreet wife of
an Italian wine merchant, yet bottling up hidden desires and rages which
periodically take over. She literally becomes a different person, the gypsy
lover to Granger's small-time Florentine robber, Nino. Thanks to Calvert’s
skilful acting, they never become separate identities, for she imbues each with
vestiges of the other, such that the dual-personality ploy is always
convincing. For the actress it was a welcome break from the virginal innocents
with which she was becoming identified. Indeed, for that reason producer R.J.
Minney hadn’t primarily considered her for the part. But her ability to
transform from wildness to conformity within the turn of a head eventually won
them over.
One of the most interesting aspects
of “Madonna Of The Seven Moons” is the picture of woman the film unveils. As
Calvert lies dead at the end, her husband (John Stuart) and lover (Granger)
place, respectively, a cross and a rose on her breast: this symbolic picture of
her torn personality was an especially pertinent one to female audiences in war-torn
Britain where the old ideals of morality and ‘the woman’s place’ were at last
being questioned. In the film the conflict is finally resolved in the person of
Angela (Patricia Roc), who sums up a new attitude, a liberal-minded independent
young woman showing a form of emancipation and freedom that society in general
was just beginning to deal with.
The publicity sold the film on its
romance and especially ‘the searing love scenes’. In one of these, the
Gainsborough style is shown to the full. Censorship at the time prevented
showing a couple on a bed without each having at least one foot on the floor. To
overcome this, the scene was shot in darkness, with Calvert and Granger seen in
silhouette, their intense faces briefly illuminated only when Granger takes a
drag on his cigarette. It is beautiful to watch, overtly suggestive and very
powerful. In a review of the time, the Manchester Guardian said: ‘Arthur
Crabtree has directed this superior thriller as if it were a work of art,’ and
it is the imagination and flair of Crabtree, Italian designer Andrew Mazzei and
cameraman Jack Cox that elevate the film beyond the boundaries of melodrama.
