User reviews

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.

John Justin has a brilliant future in the diplomatic service before him..... which he considers throwing away. He has met Moira Shearer and is madly in love. Finally he decides to be sensible, and has that brilliant career. However, he keeps running into beautiful, redheaded women who remind him of his discarded love.

Harold French's last go-around as a movie director is a stage piece in service of Miss Shearer, who plays all the young women who Justin loves, changing clothes and accents to suit each role. It's quite charming, and in the hands of a great actress, would have been a tour de force. As it is, it's a nice conceit, and makes it a pleasant porrait of Justin's character, who, along with best friend Roland Culver, grows older, and more alike.... towards the end, they even move the same way.

Miss shearer had shot to fame as the lead of THE RED SHOES, but her position in the industry was not what it might have been. Ballet dancers, for some reason, have rarely become true stars of the motion pictures, that most kinetic of the lively arts. She was born in 1926, began ballet training at 10, and was dancing at Sadler's Wells by 1942. After 1950, she concentrated more on the legimitate stage,, but while leading roles came her way -- she appeared in three movies directed by Michael Powell -- she appeared in only five films. She died in 2006.

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.

This film based on Terence Rattigan's play ' Who is Sylvia ? ' is for me a near total disaster. To begin with the dreadful, come on title should have retained the title of the play and the casting was misguided to say the least. Only in the final scenes of the film does Moira Shearer rise to any heights in acting, and the male lead John Justin never does. The majority of the film is virtually unwatchable as Shearer puts on embarrassing accents as both a ' working class ' woman, and then a Russian. Justin is wooden and they do not seem to have any chemistry at all, and to add to this pitiful first half the long ballet sequence added insult to cinematic imagery. Then in the last scenes Gladys Cooper brought the whole thing alive in a performance that had true resonance and beauty and the rest of the cast, as if by magic responded. Much as I admire Rattigan's work he is partly to blame by the patchy dialogue, and this is a pity because the play is a melancholy and tragic portrayal of the destruction of a life by giving all to idealized, romantic love.

This is a film based upon Terence Rattigan's play WHO IS SYLVIA, which in turn takes its title from both the original poem by William Shakespeare and its setting to music as a song by Schubert (a song with which my grandfather, a baritone, won much admiration). Rattigan also wrote the screenplay. This is definitely not one of Rattigan's happier moments. The film is ridiculously dated and corny, bordering on a travesty. The story is a simple one: the 'hero' played by John Justin fell in love at first sight at the age of 14 with a girl named Sylvia who had red hair and blue eyes, but he then lost contact with her. For the rest of his life he cheated on his wife and had a mews house in London for trysts with a succession of redheads who reminded him of Sylvia. Pretty silly, really. Harry Andrews plays a butler, Roland Culver has a jolly time playing a pal of Justin's who does the same sort of thing, though not with redheads, Denholm Elliott plays an earnest young son of the older Justin, and Kenneth More does a lively job of satirical narration (we do not see him). Gladys Cooper comes in towards the end with her usual assured style. It is Moira Shearer, seven years on from THE RED SHOES (1948), who plays all the redheads in succession, culminating in one who is a Russian ballet dancer named Olga. As Olga, we watch a great deal of Shearer dancing SLEEPING BEAUTY. Indeed, so much does the camera dwell on Shearer as a dancer, that one nearly forgets the film entirely. (By the way, the set and costume designs for that ballet production are simply appalling, quite a disaster.) This was the last feature film directed by Harold French, who by the way lived to be 100 and died in 1997. He made the excellent UNPUBLISHED STORY thirteen years earlier (1942, see my review). It is a pity that this film is based entirely upon wholly obsolete social codes of a bygone era, that its comedy is tepid, and that it is just not very good.

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).

This movie is a romantic comedy from beginning to end. It's a great little movie, based on a Terrence Rattigan play so you know you can't go wrong. The best part of it is seeing Moira Shearer in all four redhead roles. Besides being probably the best ballerina England ever produced, she's beautiful, brilliant, and really good at acting. This movie gives her a chance to display her comedic talents, including a knack for different accents. My favorite is Olga, the Russian ballerina. Moira Shearer herself said this was her favorite among the handful of movies she made, including 'The Red Shoes', one of the greatest movies of all time. The only reason I give this a 9 instead of a 10 is because it's no Red Shoes, but for what it is (romantic comedy, Bob the Moo)it is a perfect little gem. Another reason this movie should be made available on DVD is that it includes Moira Shearer dancing. As Olga she performs parts of 'The Sleeping Beauty', which she actually danced in real life as a member of the Sadler's Wells Ballet. There is precious little surviving video of her famous ballet roles, so this is really a treasure. It would be fantastic if British Lion Films or SOMEBODY put this on DVD so we wouldn't have to settle for home-recorded versions from TV.

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.

This engaging and witty production was star Moira Shearer's favourite of her film roles. She shines playing the four variations of 'Sylvia' though, perhaps inevitably, is most at home as Olga, the ballerina, with her performance of the Pas de deux from The Sleeping Beauty Act 3 one of the highlights. As is her delectably danced Charleston. Her titian tresses are illuminated by Georges Perinal's photography, while the otherwise preponderance of pastel shades accentuate the slight unreality of the proceedings. Kenneth More, whose charm and humour come over as the narrator, would have been preferable to John Justin who nevertheless doesn't do a bad job. Several enjoyable performances include Roland Culver, who never puts a foot wrong playing the aware and insouciant Oscar and Harry Andrews as the unflappable, worldly-wise butler, Williams. Patricia Cutts contributes a delightful cameo as Bubbles, the dizzy flapper, as do also Moyra Fraser as the eccentric Ethel and Joan Benham as a haute couture model. Gladys Cooper is especially memorable in the final scene.

For those who love The Red Shoes and have viewed it until their own feet ache, The Man Who Loved Redheads gives us an additional glimpse of the extraordinary talent of Moira Shearer. The dance sequences are rarely mentioned but her grace, strength, energy, precision and timing are spectacularly showcased here.

And what about the film itself? I am by no means as harsh on it as others in this forum. I do not find it a romantic comedy, rather an insightful look into the mores of foolish men who think they rule the world. They may be common and expected but they are never admired. As far as that observation goes the more mediocre they seem the more cutting the revelation.

Gladys Cooper also personifies grace, elegance, intelligence and a brilliant approach to her life. She leaves us breathless, anxiously waiting to hear what else she has to unveil, and we can be sure her life is rich with wisdom and possibly intrigue. We are not the only ones left at the end wishing we had more time in her company.