Woman in a Dressing Gown (1957)

This film from 1957 warns married women that too much devotion to husband & family often rebounds as they may often be tempted to take you for granted and start treating you like an unpaid servant.The trend now is for intelligent married women to have some "me time" which could involve developing their hobbies, pastimes interests & travelling on their own.Married women in 1957 were not so independent and relied too much on their husbands for emotional support and for material comforts.Of course today in 2018 the woman's movement has done a lot to help their own sex and with two female prime ministers, equal sexual rights legislation, and has changed a great deal for women over the last 60 years.Yvonne Mitchell's character is not well educated but always means well in dealing with her family.She is disorganised and inefficient which seems to cause great frustration to Anthony Quaile who plays her husband and who feels life has been slipping away from him and feels impelled to seek an office affair with his secretary (played by Sylvia Sims) at the firm of timber importers at which they both work.Young Andrew Ray (son of comic Ted Ray) plays their son who is caught in the middle of his parents marital strife.I rated this wholly British produced B&W film 7/10 which I saw on "Talking Pictures" channel 81 tonight.

I recently saw this film on Talking Pictures, and intended to switch-off after a few minutes, as it didn't seem like my cup of tea (eg film noir). I then gradually found myself bewitched by Yvonne Mitchell's stunning performance - one of the best I can recall by any actress. The domestic scene where she attempts to get the flat and herself ready, while getting steadily plastered, is a masterpiece of the actor's art. I also have to say, I find her drop-dead gorgeous - so why anyone would want to dump her is a bit of a mystery !

It's a matter of deep regret that Woman In A Dressing Gown remains unreleased on DVD and is rarely, if ever, screened on television. As a previous commenter noted, it's the first of the kitchen sink drama's which became so fashionable in the 1960's, and it's the best.The story is unremarkable; clerk Anthony Quayle is having an affair with his firm's secretary, Sylvia Sims. His wife, Yvonne Mitchell, devoted, but suffering from a clinical depression which leads her to be alternatively hysterical and morose, knows nothing, believing her husband to be equally devoted, so when Quayle breaks the news that he plans to divorce her, she goes to pieces. This unpromising situation is electrified by several elements; Yvonne Mitchell's searing performance, a spare script, and some very claustrophobic settings. Mitchell owns this film; her character is so helpless, so self-effacing, that Quayleand Sims offer her the best kind of support - they let her do her own thing. Long sequences find Mitchell alone - at the cooker, at the kitchen table, at the window - and each of these scenes is a masterpiece of momentum worthy of any noir. But isn't kitchen sink drama the most casual noir and therefore the most terrifying? Really one would have to see Mitchell in action - her habitual burning of family breakfasts, her abortive trip uptown to dolly up and win back her man, most of all her only companion - a faded dressing gown which acts as comfort blanket to the woman. She is stunning and deservedly won many plaudits for her performance.Credit must also go to Anthony Quayle who underplays his natural strengths as an actor. His perplexity at finding himself an object of desire is played out beautifully and logically to the conclusion. Sylvia Sims also impresses as the other woman, a slip of a thing whose scenes are fragile but safe because we know she is in no danger from herself.The script is taken from a television play by Ted Willis which was broadcast in the early days of ITV. I have no idea whether it still exists, probably not, given British television's habit of treating archives as ephemera - there is nothing ephemeral about Woman In A Dressing Gown. It is blindingly and viscerally memorable. Neither do I have any idea who currently owns the rights to this film but I must say they ought to be ashamed of themselves - it needs to be restored and issued on DVD before it's completely forgotten.All in all, a lovely and unsung classic for connoisseurs of everything vital.

I have seen this film exactly once, when I was about 15, on television about 35 years ago. It's unforgettable for its searing depiction of the life of postwar Britons of the middle class.Jim Preston (Quayle) is married to a woman who appears nearly helpless as a housekeeper and could be suffering from chronic depression after the death of a child. The cramped flat where they live is a suffocating mess, cabinets spilling debris, sinks filled with dishes, dustbins crammed, through which his bathrobe-clad wife drifts in a logorrheic, ash-dropping haze. By contrast, the young woman he is infatuated with is elegant and pristine, and their encounters are marked by a tranquility and privacy lacking in his domestic life.He makes one attempt to break free, causing his wife to decompensate into a hysterically sobbing invalid. His teenage son is fiercely protective of his mother and furiously rejects Preston. His life begins to come apart, and the freedom and love he yearns for slip away. He sinks back into his life, resurrecting his wife, and all goes on exactly as before--only worse.It was utterly unlike anything I had seen before, completely real, unflinching, passionate and hurtful. The B/W cinematography is done with a dingy look that captures the sooty city perfectly.This movie should come out on VHS, at least.