THE MAN IN THE WHITE SUIT: Blu-ray (Ealing Studios, 1951) Kino Lorber
How many times has
there been the rustle of a rumor to suggest that a cure for cancer had already
been discovered? Or that some engineering genius long ago figured out a way to
make the automobile run on something other than gasoline? Or, perhaps, that the
fountain of youth is not a myth, but to be found in common everyday ingredients
readily available, yet oddly enough, having remained unknown to all but some
secret society? The history of mankind is riddled with dreamers and the
byproducts of their hopes and promises to the world. If one is a conspiracy
theorist, then these inventions, beneficial to everyone, remain under lock and
key, merely to satisfy the insidious greed of business and commerce. Director Alexander
Mackendrick’s The Man in the White Suit (1951) is precisely about such an
earth-shattering discovery; its titular hero, Sidney Stratton (played with
effective bewilderment and determination by Alec Guinness), a brilliant research
chemist, seemingly to have made a chemical rendering any fabric impervious to wear and stain. Think of the possibilities! Clothes that
would never need to be washed or replaced! The ramifications of such a
breakthrough would surely bankrupt the manufacturers of woolens and laces, as well as put
an end to all laundry and dry-cleaning services. The Man in the White Suit is a parable about science,
left to its own devices, resulting in anarchy and chaos. It is also the story of genius
run amok, so undiluted and calculating it ignores the common good, merely to
prove itself to the world. And it remains a scathing
indictment on those who maintain the status quo by keeping the public in the dark, regardless
of the benefits to be derived from such innovation.
During the
penultimate and panicked pursuit of Sydney Stratton by leaders from the labor union
and profit-mongers in charge of the Birnley Textile Mill, Sydney briefly
encounters his former landlady, Mrs. Watson (Edie Martin), who bitterly informs
him how his breakthrough will have sacrificed her lucrative side business as a
washerwoman; an outcome that, until this moment, Stratton did not consider. The
Man in the White Suit is based on a play by Roger MacDougall, further
refined in its iconoclastic irreverence by director, Mackendrick’s
contributions on the screenplay (along with MacDougall – who also happened
to be Mackendrick’s cousin - and screenwriter, John Dighton). McKendrick,
born of Scottish descent, but in America, migrated to Britain before the start of
WWII. Perhaps, his keen inspiration was the product of blind ambition or the
fallout of a desolate childhood – the loss of both parents early in life – and the
relative isolation experienced thereafter. But Mackendrick and MacDougall were
off and running with their collaboration on Midnight Menace (1937) – a pre-war
thriller. After the war, they established their own production house, making
documentaries for the Ministry of Information. And while Mackendrick would go
on to have one of the most diverse careers on both sides of the Atlantic, his
work at Ealing Studios from 1946 to 1955, remains his golden period – resulting
in 5 of the studio’s greatest productions: Whisky Galore! (1949), The
Man in the White Suit (1951), Mandy (1952), The Maggie (1954)
and The Ladykillers (1955). These
Ealing comedies were never, strictly speaking, made to amuse; always a much
deeper, more cynical folly or intensely felt human saga, staged with a modicum
of mirth to be far more revealing. Chiefly, this is why much of the studio’s
output today endures, promoting endless discussion among casual fans and
intellectuals of film scholarship alike.
Reflecting on
those years, Mackendrick acknowledged, “At Ealing ... I was tremendously
spoiled with all the logistical and financial troubles lifted off my shoulders,
even if I had to do the films, they told me to do. The reason why I have
discovered myself so much happier teaching is that when I arrived here after
the collapse of the world I had known as Ealing, I found that in order to make
movies in Hollywood, you have to be a great deal-maker ... I have no talent for
that ... I realized I was in the wrong business and got out.” The Man in
the White Suit reveals Mackendrick’s peerless expertise as one of cinema’s
outstanding draftsmen/craftsmen and constructionists; the movie’s plot, with
all its complexities of narrative story-telling, made seemingly effortless,
digestible and appealing to the masses, while also providing an allegory to stir
the mind to reconsider its content, as well as its ‘intent’ as a popular
entertainment. The picture is equally a social commentary on England at this
particular crossroads in the evolution of the 20th century. Indeed, having
suffered horrendously during the war, the nation emerged from those terrific
years of conflict, perhaps, even less certain of what the future might bring,
and, at least in certain circles, desperate to remain tethered to its
time-honored traditions that, inadvertently, had paved the way for their
ill-preparedness at the start of the Second World War. The Man in the White
Suit addresses these concerns squarely and without reservation – labor and
commerce depicted as an affront to progress…or is it the other way around?
We begin our odyssey
with a brief voice-over narration from Alan Birnley (Cecil Parker) – a captain
of industry and owner of the Birnley Textile Mill. Birnley infers that a
calamity of sizable concern to all nations has just been narrowly averted. But
our story actually begins at another mill, owned by Michael Corland (Michael
Gough), a young entrepreneur, having managed to capture the heart of Birnley’s
daughter, Daphne (Joan Greenwood), who intends to marry him. At present, Corland
is squiring Alan about his production facility – a much smaller operation –
hoping to incur an influx of capital from his future father-in-law to buoy his
plans for expansion. Unhappy circumstance that, upon entering Corland’s
laboratory, Alan is drawn to a most unusual experiment being conducted apart
from the authorized work, and, for which not a single one of Corland’s bungling
scientists will lay claim. Indeed, the model – a curious cacophony of test
tubes, coils and bubbling Bunsen Burners is the work of the company’s obscure
custodian, Sydney Stratton, who is promptly dismissed by Corland for having
seemingly squandered £4000 on his needless experiments – as yet – to yield a
result. Having wrecked his chances to quietly toil at no less than seven mills,
Stratton is employed as a common laborer at Birnley’s - but without Birnley’s
knowledge. There, Stratton meets the butch and rather terse, Bertha (Vida Hope)
– a socialist-minded union organizer and fellow worker who takes an immediate
fancy to him.
Stratton also
garners the fleeting interests of his boss, Mr. Hoskins (Henry Mollison) after
showing uncommon knowledge of a highly refined microscope, newly arrived to their
research department. Even so, Hoskins is
not about to let Stratton run wild with his experiments. So, while his fellow
scientists are on their lunch breaks, Stratton remains hard at work in the lab,
refining his own independent research, applying a charged fuse to spark his
highly volatile radioactive chemicals into a seemingly indestructible concoction
that can make any cloth virtually indestructible. Found out in his work by Daphne,
Stratton manages to convince the girl of the virtues in his progress. Through
her own investigation of his claims, she too comes to believe in his work. Moreover,
Daphne begins to develop a curious and deep-seeded attachment towards him. At
his rooming house, Stratton is afforded some leeway in his rent moneys by the
kindly matron, Mrs. Watson, after she discovers he has accepted a higher
position within the Birnley organization – though, for no pay. Upon his
breakthrough, Stratton is ecstatic to the point where Hoskins considers him
quite mad. Unable to convince Birnley to give him a few moment’s audience to
explain his research, Stratton’s work gets a real boost when Daphne admonishes
her father for his myopic views. In reply, Alan affords Stratton all the
luxuries of his top scientists, instructing Hoskins to move everyone out of the
current lab so Stratton may conduct future experiments in absolute secrecy. After
several failed attempts, Stratton proves his theory sound and the company’s loom
begin to produce large spools of this seemingly everlasting thread, eventually creating
a prototype of a white linen suit for Stratton to test on himself.
Alas, at this
juncture, the dream turns dark – then ugly – as the laborers, led by Bertha realize
if such a product ever comes on the market, it will surely result in mass
layoffs for their lot once everyone has bought at least one garment made from
its superior design. At approximately this same instance, the company’s main
stakeholder, Sir John Kierlaw (Ernest Thesiger) concurs the days of the
mass-producing textile mills would be at an end should such a cloth ever find
its way into the public. Hence, along with Birnley’s top men, including
Cranford (Howard Marion-Crawford) and Hoskins, also Corland, these wily
captains of industry conspire to put an end to the experiments and retire
Stratton to a private life far away. After all, every man has his price. Alas,
Stratton refuses to play their game. Birnley’s first course of action – a sizable
bribe and payoff – fails to convince Stratton. So, with considerable difficulty,
Birnley has Stratton kidnapped and taken to his stately manor under lock and
key while everything can be sorted out. Problem: Birnley’s marketing department
has already made a veiled claim to a ‘big announcement’ in the Manchester
Guardian. Now, the newspaper boys are clamoring for the story. At some point,
Corland recognizes Daphne may be far more persuasive than any of them –
suggesting to Birnley, his daughter might ‘sell’ herself in marriage to
Stratton to keep him quiet.
Disgusted by the
way she has been bartered off like a prized cow, Daphne is let into Stratton’s
attic room with plans to test his fidelity to his own research. Alas, even
after the offer is made, Stratton cannot accept. Charmed by his genuineness,
Daphne agrees to help Stratton escape so he can make his discovery known to the
papers. Lowering Stratton down the side of the estate through an open window by
a mere thread woven from this dense prototype, Daphne quietly observes as her
father and his cronies are chagrined. Returning to his boarding house to
collect money for the necessary train fare, Stratton discovers a new lodger in
his room. Worse, Bertha and a small contingent of the workers, gone on strike
from the mill, have sided with Birnley to keep Stratton’s discovery a secret. Trapping
Stratton inside his former basement apartment, Bertha places a guard, Harry (Duncan
Lamont) at the door before hurrying off to attend Birnley at his manor. But Stratton convinces a little girl (Carol
Wolveridge) to lie to Harry that he has already escaped.
Bursting into
the room, and finding no sign of Stratton, Harry panics, bolting from the room
and leaving the door wide open. Now, Stratton emerges from the storage cupboard
where he has been hiding all along, and, hurries through the streets under the
cover of night, more determined than ever to expose his discovery to the world.
Alas, in his glowing white suit, he is easy to spot. Meanwhile, a lab
technician back at the Birnley mill makes a terrible discovery. The seemingly indestructible
threads have already begun to decompose. Stratton’s theory is therefore a bust.
Birnley and the others have nothing to fear. Cornered in an alley by a gaggle
of reporters, police, mill workers, Birnley and his stooges, Stratton is
accosted. The mob tugs and tears at his white suit. The fabric, already in its
state of decomposition, falls apart in their hands, leaving Stratton defeated
and practically naked. A kindly bystander offers his overcoat to preserve Stratton’s
dignity. We regress to Birnley’s voice-over narration, concluding a major crisis
has been narrowly averted and that the world has definitely seen the last of Sydney
Stratton…or, at least, Birnley sincerely hopes so.
The Man in the
White Suit is one of Ealing Studios’ most intriguing ‘comedies.’ At times, the comedic elements are nearly
overwhelmed by Mackendrick’s focus - a story, basically about the ruin of an
honest, hard-working genius, denied his livelihood and future by an
enterprising and devious power structure with enough financial and political clout
to crush his dreams and dismantle his reputation, despite his own formidable
strength of character and his convictions. If ever there was a template for God’s
lonely man, it is Sydney Stratton. And Guinness plays him with a curious ambivalent
gesture of whimsy – the idiot savant, incapable of expressing any emotion not
directly related to his work, and wholly incompetent in matters of love and
romance. Ostensibly, Daphne and Bertha each possess more than a modicum of
interest in Sydney. Arguably, Daphne’s is the purer love; invested even, to see
Stratton prevail. In her day, Joan Greenwood was considered a great beauty.
Frankly, I don’t see it. What is evident, is Greenwood’s exceptional capacity
as a delicious raconteur and superior dramatic actress who can also handle comic
timing – offer the relatively thankless part of ‘the girl’ in this
male-dominated social structure, great depth and introspection. Possessing the outward
flavoring of a Carol Lombard and inner shadings of a Joan Fontaine, Greenwood excels
at removing virtually every stereotype from the part of the romantic ‘love
interest’. Daphne Birnley emerges as a distinctly humanized creation by her own
design. The rest of the cast are, for all intent and purposes, playing to type,
particularly Cecil Parker, a superb bumbler on which the ballast of his film
career was built. In the last analysis, The
Man in the White Suit is a sobering reminder, or rather, reinforcement of
the time-honored cliché; something about one man being quite unable to ‘beat
city hall!’
The Man in the
White Suit arrives on Blu-ray via Kino Lorber’s alliance with StudioCanal. Alas,
the results are far from perfect. Of the three Ealing comedies to come down the
pike recently, The Man in the White Suit is the worst for the wear. The
image, at times, can appear quite thick and clumpy – even, marginally out of
focus – as though whole portions have been sourced from a dupe or ‘second
generation’ print. Dirt, scratches and other age-related artifacts are
everywhere. While much improved over the previous DVD release (which isn’t
saying much), there is a lot of digital clean-up still necessary to bring the
image back from the ravages of time. There’s also considerable image flicker
built in to this presentation that could have been stabilized with just a little
TLC. Film grain has been digitally scrubbed and is unevenly represented. At
times, it’s present and heavy, and at others, it all but disappears, resulting
in a very ‘processed’ look. Most egregious of all – the edge effects that crop
up intermittently, create distractions around door and window frames and other
sharply denoted details. The DTS 1.0 mono audio is adequate, if unremarkable. We get an audio commentary by film historian,
Dr. Dean Brandon, fairly comprehensive and definitely worth a listen. There is
also a brief retrospective with contributing commentaries from director, Stephen
Friars and critic, Ian Christie, among others, plus trailers for this and the
other Ealing product being distributed by Kino. Bottom line: The Man in the
White Suit is an Ealing classic that deserves far better in hi-def!
Regrets.
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
2.5
EXTRAS
1
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