L'uomo che amava le rosse

John Justin plays a wealthy Brit who has never forgotten the redhead he met at a party when he was a teenager. He marries and goes along in life until he spots a redhead on a London street, arranges for a tryst at a friends house and embarks on a lifetime of meeting a succession of redheads roughly from 1917 to 1955.

Charming comedy keeps it all light and bubbly and features a solid performance by Justin and a super performance by Moira Shearer, who plays all the redheads. Shearer plays the teenager Sylvia, the cockney secretary Daphne, the Russian ballerina Olga, and the model Colette. It's quite a showcase for Shearer, including a lengthy sequence from the Sleeping Beauty ballet. Roland Culver plays Justin's jovial friend. Gladys Cooper appears toward the end of the film to add the perfect ending touch of irony. Denholm Elliott plays the son. Beautifully filmed in Technicolor, the entire film has the look and feel of something from Powell and Pressburger.

The new title alone of this adaptation of Terence Rattigan's 1950 West End hit 'Who is Sylvia?' made me think of Michael Powell; since it boasts Powell's protege Moira Shearer as four different redheads in the life of one man, compared to Deborah Kerr's three in 'The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp' (with which it also shares colour photography by Georges Périnal and the presence of Roland Culver, here repeating his role from Rattigan's play).

Sadly this particular soufflé gets little chance to rise under the leaden direction of Harold French, and John Justin is plainly no Roger Livesey. But there are odd moments as narrated by Kenneth More - particularly the brief shot of Sylvia near the end - that actually achieve the touching quality it aspires to and which 'Blimp' achieved throughout.

The theme of this film,namely a man who has an obsession about redheads was not very original when made.It was particularly common in the forties.Why even The life and death of Colonel Blimp has this as one of its narrative threads. I wonder if the narration by Kenneth More was in the script or added later.It certainlyvdoes little to add to this film.

Stars Moira Shearer. She's the original redhead that Mark (John Justin) falls for as a child. Period piece. 1917. and Mark spends the rest of his days pursuing her. or at least any red heads that he can find. and i find it annoying when the narrator keeps breaking in to crack a joke here and there. and the story just goes all over the place, as Mark makes up stories and tells lie after lie to meet up with the redheads he encounters. this one moves quite slowly. the premise is good enough, but the ballet number just brings it all to a halt. and the fact that it takes place in 1917 doesn't help. kind of goes on and on. more long musical numbers. Original play by the twice nominated Terence Rattigan. wrote a LOT of things! some of the music comes from Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty. Directed by Harold French. he only directed 31 films, and this was the last full length film before moving into television. beh.

Unusual film in a way I suppose, because I gather there weren't a huge number of mainstream films made in the 50's about some fellow's lifelong fetish. But that's what The Man Who Loved Redheads is about, as the future Lord Binfield Mark St. Neots, (John Justin) becomes obsessed with the memory of Sylvia, (Moira Shearer), a 16-year-old redhead he met at a party as a boy, and vowed he would love forever.

The big drawcard for the film and ostensible lead is Moira Shearer playing four different red head roles. In her brief stint as Sylvia, sexy Shearer does convince as a flame- haired siren, who unwittingly leaves a permanent imprint on Mark's life. Unfortunately and given the title, the film ends up concentrating way too heavily on the rather dull life of the maturing Lord Binfield, who is the recipient of way too much screen time, besides the fact that his character, clearly has way too much general time on his hands anyway ... sufficient to live a double life as Mark Wright, your regular all round philandering good guy and playboy. Almost 65 years on from when the film was made, I think we're supposed to find his rather frequent matrimonial indiscretions, funny. You know the thing about boys being boys and behaving a bit badly.

So what we have is a pretty unfunny comedy. But then, quite bizarrely in the middle of the film, director Harold French inserts a 15 minute ballet sequence featuring extracts from The Sleeping Beauty, The reason? Well I guess it was because Moira (The Red Shoes) Shearer was in the cast, so let's hedge the producers' bets and try and attract ballet fans. Quaint, but very odd. Yes, Moira at that stage is playing Olga, a Russian ballerina, but this isn't The Red Shoes and Harold French isn't Michael Powell. And I don't think Shearer did a great deal of the dancing we are forced to unexpectedly watch anyway.

All in all, despite blazing redheads being the focus subject of this misdirected movie, it all ends up very much being a huge misfire (just couldn't help myself).