52 Films by Women Vol 7. 3. MR. MALCOLM'S LIST (Director: Emma Holly Jones)
Some call it ‘colour
blind’ casting. The late Peter Brook preferred the term ‘colour rich’. This is
the selection of actors of different ethnicities to play roles that according
to the setting would have gone to white Europeans. British-born, Los
Angeles-based director Emma Holly Jones has opted for the ‘colour rich’
approach in her feature debut, Mr.
Malcolm’s List, screenwriter
Suzanne Allain’s adaptation of her 2010 Regency-era novel. Jones filmed a
short, Mr. Malcolm’s List:
Overture with many of the same
cast, but also Gemma Chan, in 2019 to prove the concept. The resultant feature
benefits to some extent from its multi-ethnic cast but suffers from a fatal
absence of chemistry between its leads. Did I wish for vicar’s daughter Selina
Dalton (Freida Pinto) to win the heart of wealthy bachelor Jeremy Malcolm (Ṣọpẹ́ Dìrísù)? No, reader, I did not.
Set
principally in 1818, after the defeat of Napoleon, it stars Zawe Ashton as
eligible London bachelorette, Julia Thistlethwaite, who after a single trip to
the opera with the aforementioned Mr Malcolm, is the object of ridicule in a
popular cartoon, in which Mr Malcolm is shown seated with Julia calling ‘Next!’
Julia, or I should say Miss Thistlethwaite – everyone else calls her – seeks
revenge and calls upon the service of her poorer childhood friend, the
aforementioned Selina Dalton, to visit her in London to play a part in Mr
Malcolm’s humiliation. Jeremy has a list of attributes that women must exhibit as
a potential wife, along the lines of being an amiable and intelligent
conversationalist, forgiving in nature, in possession of musical
accomplishments and lacking in frightful relations. Not that Jeremy has these attributes himself,
but he is (as the expression goes) in possession of a fortune, which wipes out
any requirement to be nice. Julia learns that she failed the conversation test
after her cousin, Lord Cassidy (Oliver Jackson-Cohen) discusses her with Jeremy
and catches sight of the list. Julia’s plan is to have Jeremy fall for Selina
then, at the moment he is lovestruck, for Selina to present her own list of
requirements that he has failed to meet. Assuming Jeremy to be perfectly
rotten, the newly unemployed Selina submits herself to Julia’s plan. She has
some self-respect, having turned down wealthy (but much too old for her)
landowner, Mr Woodbury (Gerry O’Brien) who visits her while her clergyman
father is out and who ignores the cup of tea in Selina’s hand to press his
point. Mr Woodbury ends up being shown an open door and charging furiously through
a gaggle of geese.
If
Selina was as discerning of women as she is of men, she would have told Julia
where to stick her plan and stayed with her parents. After all, Julia is quite
dismissive of Selina’s letters (‘oh, she has turned down Mr Woodbury again’).
The pair were fast friends at Miss Finch’s school for girls, but Julia is more
concerned at her failure to secure a husband after four seasons (not to be
confused with the hotel chain or Vivaldi’s music) than her friend’s loss of
employment as former companion to the late Lady Ossory.
As a
counterpoint to the goings on, Jones points her camera at Julia’s servant, John
(Divian Ladwa) whose silent rolling of eyes at Julia’s stupidity cues us to
laugh. (Reader, we resist.) When John is despatched to purchase all the copies
of the cartoon on sale, he is invited into a carriage. ‘I’ve never been in here
before,’ he remarks, passing Julia a huge pile.
‘Is that all?’ asks Julia frantically. ‘All that were for sale.’ John
points to a copy of a cartoon in a shop window. Julia isn’t going to escape her
humiliation in a hurry, though if she had any perspective, today’s cartoon is
used to scoop up tomorrow’s horse manure. (Jones is not in the least interested
in Regency waste management.)
John
is despatched to the club where Lord Cassidy gambles and is unexpectedly
offered a drink at the top of the stairs before he enters the room, as if he is
of some importance. He delivers his message prompting Lord Cassidy to seek out
Mr Malcolm.
Selina’s
unprepossessing nature gives Pinto (best known for her role in Slumdog Millionaire) little to play. She submits herself to
schooling from Lord Cassidy, ensuring that she knows something about the Corn
Laws. By the time she is positioned to meet Mr Malcolm at a party, she is
dressed in fine attire and instructed to remain in the orangery. There she
unexpectedly meets him as he reflects on his disenchantment with luck. Selina
quotes Samuel Johnson back at him and Mr Malcolm’s spirits are, as the saying
goes, revived. If she had quoted Samuel L. Jackson at him, that would have sent
away at speed.
At least part of
the problem with the film is the inability of Allain and Jones to address
Julia’s ignorance. At the opera, when told she is watching Rossini, she asks
‘which one is he?’ She remarks ‘why are there so many foreign operas? We are in
England, after all.’ She further believes that the Corn Laws are related to
diet. These don’t land as zingers because Ashton looks like a fish out of
water. The colour rich casting diffuses any desire to laugh at her. Rather, we
imagine Julia as unschooled in art and politics. When Selina tells her that
Bath is quite the destination for septuagenarians, Julia makes a remark about
foreigners. The joke falls flat here as well.
What the colour
rich casting allows is for us to desire an end to Julia’s pretence. She clearly
tries too hard. The screenplay makes it clear that when she relaxes, she is a
much more intriguing companion, as when she displays a flair for pheasant
shooting – a sequence that I confess made me cringe on account of its
barbarism.
Allain and Jones acknowledge
the conventions of Regency romances. There must be at least one ball, a scene
at (gambling) tables, a horse market, afternoon tea, dinner, a trip to a
picture gallery, a dress fitting, a rebuffed marriage proposal and a shoot. The
budget didn’t stretch to horse racing but, at the climax, a rider racers after
a carriage. Oh, how painfully aware we are of the rider double.
After the
orangery meeting, Jeremy and Selina are formally introduced, initially ruining
Julia’s plan to create an air of mystery about her friend. Lord Cassidy is
especially pleased. Selina is invited to Dulwich Picture Gallery where
fortunately art is not discussed. There Jeremy meets Captain Henry Ossory (Theo
James), who, having returned from military service (though Napoleon was
defeated three years prior) is seeking a place in town. Henry is wearing his
military attire in a picture gallery which struck me as odd. Perhaps he was
posing as a living portrait, stepping out from the frame to give elderly
visitors a fright and perhaps accelerate their demise. Henry, who boasts a
thick moustache I can only describe as suspect, as if his black cravat had
leapt up from his neck to settle under his nose, declares that he knows Selina,
who was until recently the constant companion of his late aunt. ‘She spoke very
highly of you,’ explains Henry. I half-expected Selina to mutter, ‘but not when
she was drafting her will’. She responds inoffensively, ‘she spoke very highly
of you’. I half-expected Henry to mutter, ‘but not when she was drafting his
will’. Henry does not appear to need money. He does not make Jeremy feel guilty
for avoiding the Napoleonic War either. The film doesn’t touch difficult
subjects, except the impossibility of servants to own their home. Even that is
an aside.
Before long
Selina has a second suitor, who takes her for a turn around the water feature.
‘My aunt desired that I should make a match with you,’ Henry explains without a
hint of flirtation. ‘But how do you know?’ asks Selina. ‘She wrote, you should
make a match with Selina,’ Henry replies, straight-faced. This is perhaps the
nearest the film comes to a zinger, but from the audience, there’s nothing. The
chemistry between Henry and Selina is non-existent, but wouldn’t you believe
it, they chance upon Jeremy.
Selina has plenty
of opportunities to impress Mr Malcolm, though when she is at the piano, Lord
Cassidy plays her notes for her. She has an opinion on laws affecting the
church, which impresses him (an insert shot shows a quality on his list being
ticked off). Henry spends some time with Julia and is impressed by her
shooting, not requiring the advice, ‘follow where the bird will be, not where
it is.’ Two dead birds later, we imagine Henry is secretly glad Julia didn’t
aim the rifle at him.
In one of the
scenes that teeters on humour, Julia comfort-eats a large trifle and moves it
away from Selina when she approaches it with a spoon. Julia is the sort of
hostess who will offer Selina a macaron and then before Selina has taken a bite
offer her a slice of cake. How many hands does she imagine Selina has? Does she
think she is Saraswati?
Invited to
Jeremy’s mansion in Kent, Selina does indeed dress up as a god, Selene, at a
masquerade ball; Lord Cassidy wears the attire of a Greek philosopher and finds
that he much enjoys the breeze, the nearest the film gets to ribald humour. Before
then Selina has impressed Jeremy by admitting that the giggly, grating woman
introduced to Jeremy at the horse market, Gertie Covington (Ashley Park) is in
fact her cousin and not Julia’s – Julia is aware that Jeremy is judgmental of
relations. Jeremy admires Selina’s honesty.
The pair do
indeed dance at the ball, but then Selina is called away. Julia, also invited
to the masquerade along with Henry Ossory and Selina’s parents, arranges for
Selina to be locked away while she (Julia) pretends to be Selina, handing Jeremy
her list. (By this time, Selina wants no further part in the plan.) The result
is Jeremy’s wholesale rejection of Selina and Julia. Selina, angry with Julia,
retires to her room. Julia is disappointed that her revenge has gone flat.
Where is a trifle when one needs it?
Can happiness be
restored? What harsh words will be spoken at the Rose Garden? Who was behind
the notes given to both Jeremy and Selina?
Mr
Malcolm’s List is the
sort of film when the title character stands on a woman’s dress causing a rip
just to be forgiven for his clumsiness and to tick off another virtue. I really
felt for that blue dress. The film tootles along to a comic, twee score by
Amelia Warner that cues the laughter that never arrives. The colour rich
casting rarely enhances the film, except when Jeremy – full name Jeremiah –
quotes a phrase from his homeland, the one acknowledgement of Africa. Aside
from this moment, ethnic origin is not acknowledged. I wonder whether audiences
from the Indian, Chinese, African and Caribbean diaspora will see themselves
reflected in the film.
The production
values afford some pleasure and there is a humorous series of cartoons over the
end credits describing a bachelor party in France, a double wedding, double
pregnancy and the footman inheriting a house (and marrying a maid). The
intention appears to be to ignore the subjugation of the Colonies and imagine
an integrated, pre-Victorian society. I call it a form of kitsch. There is in
this flawed film the acknowledgement that English costume dramas are inherently
problematic. Mr. Malcolm’s List does not make us forget this.
Reviewed at
Universal Pictures Preview Theatre London, Thursday 7 July 2022, and Cineworld
Ashford, Kent, 14:00 screening, Saturday 27 August 2022 screening
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