Mrs. (H)Arris Goes to Paris: 1992 Edition

by Cláudio Alves

Originally published in 1958, Paul Gallico's Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris, also known as Flowers for Mrs. Harris, is the first book in a series about the adventures of an English cleaning woman in her sixties. This particular novella concerns the widowed charwoman who, after falling in love with her employer's French fashions, becomes fixated on the idea of buying a Dior dress for herself. As the title suggests, she goes to Paris to achieve that goal, embarking on what can only be described as a midcentury fairytale. Way before Lesley Manville decided to step into Mrs. Harris' shoes for the 2022 production, the story was already adapted for the screen. Beyond filmed media, there's even a musical that premiered in Sheffield's Crucible Theater in 2016.

As we wait for the new movie to arrive in theaters, let's look back at one of those previous incarnations. Specifically, the 1992 TV movie Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris, starring Angela Lansbury in the titular role…

 

John Hawkesworth's teleplay strays considerably from the source material, ignoring the narrative's last act and preferring a simpler conclusion where every bittersweet note is substituted by pure sugar. Mrs. Arris herself is fairly changed from Gallico's prose, made more lady-like in her demeanor. While her presence in the high fashion circles still inspires snobbery, it's easier to imagine Lansbury's character fitting in than in the book. Whatever elements of anti-French prejudice slowly eroded by newfound friendships are also excised, making for a frothy feel-good movie with only the faintest hint of conflict. This is an exercise in comfort and little else.

That isn't to say the film's devoid of value. Neither Anthony Pullen Shaw's direction nor most formal elements add much to the experience, but the costumes are expectedly great. Jane Robison's designs earned her an Emmy nomination, and it's easy to see why when admiring her reinterpretation of Dior's 1950s offerings parade through the screen. Indeed, the fashion show is the picture's highlight, evoking the wonder of couture, rustling silks moving through the space in graceful lines, sensual trims in soft fur, and wool structures that embrace the body in a warm hug. The camera does little to elevate the scene, but the frocks and Lansbury's awed performance are enough.

As much as she deviates from the book's characterization, the star's work is a light dessert of uncomplicated kindness. It's as if someone tried to distill the future 2010s nicecore trend into a single character clad in a twill coat and straw hat with a rose on top. Whether playing matchmaker or melting frosted hearts everywhere she goes, Mrs. 'Arris' effortless charisma illuminates the screen. The star presence further complements every scene partner, all of which have great chemistry with Lansbury. I want to give special mention to Omar Shariff's exercise in charm personified, as well as Diana Rigg's take on Madame Colbert, a woman of intimidating chicness who's actually at the center of some of the flick's sweetest passages.

Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris isn't a forgotten masterpiece nor an essential work for any of its cast and crew. Nevertheless, there's tremendous appeal to its simple – mayhap simplistic – tale of a life-changing Dior frock. Funnily enough, my biggest complaint about the production is what they did to the protagonist's chosen gown. The book describes the Temptation dress as a floor-length column of beaded black velvet with a froth of cream, delicate rose, and lacey white erupting at the bottom. In the telefilm, it's a confection of pink satin with none of the described elegance, a voluminous skirt puffing at the back. Lansbury looks more like a Disney princess than a grown working-class woman rediscovering her own beauty, her worthiness, her value. 

All this is to say that a new adaptation, perchance more faithful to the book and its melancholic undertones, might be just what the doctor ordered. For a particular type of cinephile, it's undoubtedly one of the movie events of the year ever since its trailer graced the internet. Are you similarly excited for this new Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, or do you believe the 1992's version is already good enough?

You can find the entire TV movie uploaded, for free, on Youtube. The picture quality's not great, but it's the best one we have since there are no streaming options.

Comments

[NathanielB]

It's been so long since I've seen this and it makes me so nostalgic for this era of television movies on network television in the late 80s and early 90s, where Lansbury would use her hiatuses from Murder She Wrote to make this and The Shell Seekers and Katharine Hepburn would make The Man Upstairs and This Can't Be Love. It's such a shame that these movies aren't more readily accessible, but I'm grateful for those risking copyright law violations to post them for however long they are up there on YouTube!

[McGill]

I feel that Leslie Manville is too chic to play Mrs. Harris. Manville’s elegant body and beautiful bone structure makes classic Dior seem for a perfect match for her. In the photos, she looks like she is playing Eliza Doolittle, impatient for the part where she goes to the ball.

When I read the novella, I pictured Mrs. Harris as looking more like Imelda Staunton, where you have to stretch your imagination a bit to see her in Dior.

The Paul Gallico novels are like maudlin weepies that you nevertheless reread each summer, picked from the books at the cottage at the lake. Gallico seems like a writer with a gift for crafting a fairy tale, but then he has to have horrible things happen to show you he is “a serious writer”.

So Angela Lansbury seems like a good fit for this story, and if the film makers edited out Gallico’s penchant for spoiling the fairytale, well, okay.