Good on her. Get away to Paris, Mrs. Harris. It gives Lesley Manville, the titular Ada Harris, the chance to express her acting abilities once more. Her honesty in this leading role, the Anthony Fabian-directed piece, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, is that bit of glee, twee charm. Ripping its opening soundtrack from that montage segment in Up that has since been morphed into an Instagram reel for “Top 10 Saddest Movie Moments” countdowns, there is a lack of unique placement in parts to this Manville-led feature. Thankfully Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is not the sum of its weaker parts, a whimsical charm that presents such a wonderful message.
Quite the initial, light turn of form from Fabian gives off a lovely, 1950s-set feeling. Harris is such a wonderful and open character. Her conceptions of the world around her, the twee optimism. It is hard to consider that as a palette for 1957, but the unbridled joy that comes from a feature that never quite shakes its modern-like setting in its set design is kept together by a stellar lead role. Fabian uses his momentum to have little callbacks to those most important times that set up the turn of the 1960s. Within that is a genuine respect for the working class, although it fluffs the details and makes for that patriotism that is a tough pill to swallow for anyone with a passing understanding of history.
Brevity and lightness is the key to it though, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris relies on some nice bits and pieces, and the little supporting performances from Jason Isaacs and Roxane Duran are nice touches. Manville is the clear core but does well to share the screen and the sounds of the 1950s with the frankly fantastic Ellen Thomas. Their scenes and intimate moments together are the touching core of this, but it depends more on their performances than it does on the hope at the heart of this story. Much of it depends on the treat-yourself mentality, the desire to give someone something of fleeting joy for the sake of living it. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris takes that to heart with a lightness, a tone that sees Manville tasked with tugging the heartstrings, as she does so well here. It is hard not to back her character, a vision of the essential role of cleaners facing up to the pathetic troubles of those higher on the class pyramid.
Enchanted by the finer things through not having it, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris simplifies its story into those bite-sized, Battenburg-looking chunks and does enjoy itself from time to time. Pursuit of items just out of financial reach is no surprise, and to form its narrative around such a simple premise is a risk. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris showcases that material wealth is enough to distract, sometimes, from the problems and grief at large. Doing that takes a great deal of commitment from those involved, and it is a piece that lives or dies on Manville’s dedication. It would not work without her. Anybody else in that role would not capture the charm, the dreaming, the brilliance of it.
