Review: Fortune is a Woman

It’s Christmas time, but insurance investigator Jack Hawkins is nonetheless tasked with examining a small fire at a manor owned by Dennis Price, where numerous valuable paintings were destroyed. He also meets Price’s young wife, Arlene Dahl…and immediately realises they’re old acquaintances. Old flames actually, from several years ago before she left him mysteriously. Later, on another case Hawkins is shocked to find one of the paintings supposedly destroyed by the fire in the home of another client (Greta Gynt). The plot thickens even further when an even bigger fire at Price’s estate has fatal results. Ian Hunter and Geoffrey Keen appear briefly as Price’s cousin and Hawkins’ employer, respectively. Christopher Lee appears briefly as a tempestuous actor with a black eye.

 

A thoroughly mediocre 1957 British noir, based on a novel by Winston Graham (who wrote the novels for the “Poldark” series and Hitchcock’s “Marnie”), featuring a pretty decent cast and a tired script. It has been quite well-directed by Sidney Gilliat (“Green for Danger”) and well-shot by Gerald Gibbs (“The Boys”, “Devil Doll”), but the story has been done to death, brought back to life, and died all over again. Also known as “She Played With Fire” (which seems to have the wrong pronoun), it really does show story is king. The only people who might find this story interesting are insurance investigators. Otherwise, I think even Hitchcock wouldn’t have bothered with this rather ordinary story.

 

An idiot for a main character doesn’t help, despite a fine, sympathetic turn by Jack Hawkins. He and a scene-stealing Greta Gynt are the acting highlights here, though Arlene Dahl is suitably inscrutable as the possible femme fatale, and Christopher Lee’s miniscule part is a brief but welcome bit of levity. Geoffrey Keen and Ian Wolfe are solid, but underused. Directorial-wise, Gilliat (who co-wrote Hitchcock’s excellent “The Lady Vanishes”) throws in a few little interesting stylistic flourishes such as the cute opening transition from a ticking metronome to a car windscreen wiper. Meanwhile, the music score by William Alwyn (“The Magic Box”, “State Secret”, “Third Man on the Mountain”) is good right out of the gate, too. Unfortunately it’s not enough to overcome the uninvolving story and dunce lead character.

 

It’s a shame that this kind of story has been done to death before and since. The direction, music, B&W cinematography, and performances all deliver. Without a compelling story however, it’s a losing effort. Fits and starts are all this film ultimately works in. The tired, unsurprising screenplay is by Gilliat, Frank Launder (“The Lady Vanishes”, “The Happiest Days of Your Life”), and Val Valentine (Hitchcock’s subpar “Rich and Strange”).

 

Rating: C