‘Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris’ review: A humble trip worth taking

Though there’s something to be said about entertainment that values good feelings over thematic truth, the “nicecore movement” — be it on the big or small screen — is here to stay. And with good reason, too. As we continuously find ourselves in a perpetual state of doom and gloom, as the pandemic constantly looms and civil unrest will only ensue, it’s understandable that modern entertainment has turned into a safe haven for common decency and renewed interest in one’s good-hearted human spirit. There’s a thin line between patronizing and invigorating, and when you have a sweet, kind-natured, but not preachy or pompous film like Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris, you thankfully get more of the latter than the former. And that can feel pretty good. 

Based on Paul Gallico’s 1958 novel, Flowers for Mrs. Harris, which was later retitled Mrs. ‘arris Goes to Paris in the United States, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris follows our loving, downtrodden eponymous character (Lesley Manville, terrific as always) in the midst of a reinvention of sorts.

Not-so-recently widowed, but having only worked up the courage to learn the truth of this recently, the hard-working chairwoman hasn’t lived a life of luxury or good fortune up until now. But the tides slowly start to turn when she lays eyes upon a gorgeous Dior dress, one that suddenly brings sharp focus to her uneventful life. Suddenly, invigorated with desire, Mrs. Harris works tirelessly to muster up the funds to fly out to Paris and purchase a 500-quid Dior dress, one that’ll renew that sparkle in her gaze and reward her tireless years of hard labor. But, of course, nothing is quite as simple as it seems in our mind’s eye, even in a fantastical adventure like this charming period piece.

A “Brittanican” in Paris.

After a string of great luck that’s befitting of a children’s storybook (that’s a compliment, by the way), Mrs. Harris whisks off to Paris, where she makes the mixed company of some less than accommodating French personalities, including the antagonistic Claudine Colbert (Isabelle Huppert) and kind Natasha (Alba Baptista), a young, gorgeous fashion model who would rather spend her time reading literature than walk the red carpet.

She also meets Marquis de Chassagne (Lambert Wilson), a fellow widower who fills Mrs. Harris with the potential promise of romantic interest, and Andre (Lucas Bravo), a bookish, mild-mannered Dior employee with a boyish crush on sweet Natasha. There’s even Christian Dior (Philippe Bertin), though only in a fleeting manner.

All of these personalities, whether sweet-natured or not, don’t quite know what to make of this low-class Brit who fancies one of the finest dresses in the world. But even the most reserved find themselves charmed by Mrs. Harris’ guileless appeal. It’s a quality that’s easier to relate to on the page than on the screen, but that’s no problem for our lead, who brings humble appeal and warm-hearted wit to this longstanding literary figure.

Though easy to take as a slight, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris can be best enjoyed as a bit of whimsical, almost fairy-tale-esque escapism. It’s all so fun and fancy free. It owes as much to our reality as Aquaman owes to marine biology, but it doesn’t matter. Because, not unlike Paddington 1 and 2, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is a British rallying call for the empathetic need to celebrate altruism, while also delighting in something as trifling as a selfless woman finally getting a chance to enjoy herself.

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is compassionate, but above all else, it’s just meant to be delightful.

Perhaps the mileage may vary there, but it’s hard to imagine many people not taking at least some pleasure in Manville’s guileless performance. It’s endearing without being cloying, and it’s winsome without losing its humanity. Mrs. Harris is a kind woman, but also not a perfect one. She can lose her temper. She can make careless mistakes. She can sometimes assume the best in others and get hurt in the process. But Manville knows how to make this time-honored personality feel fresh while also winningly real. Only an actor as dependably great as Manville could make such a dotty character naturalistic.

What’s perhaps less tied to authenticity is the movie’s general look and design, which can often be too green-screen heavy, thus losing the spark of the City of Light’s texture and history. It’s hard to be swept up in France’s majesty when we’re watching what can seem like a colleague of screen-saver backdrops. But not unlike An American In Paris, there’s still a charm found in what’s clearly a fabricated depiction of the world’s most romantic city.

Cinema has always made Paris seem mystical and magical.

So this movie shouldn’t be given flack for doing the same. But if we’re meant to be taken on a cinematic adventure, it does feel a bit cheapened to know that we aren’t quite there. It’s not quite right. But since we’re endeared to the characters, it doesn’t make too much of a difference. Plus, it should be noted that director Anthony Fabian provides more lovely imagery than you might expect, allowing us to see the wondrous delightful splendors of the city through Mrs. Harris’ rose-tinted eyes and be wowed by the goodness that populates this world, should you look for it and, more importantly, allow yourself the chance to seek it out.

Perhaps what doesn’t go down quite as sweetly is the in-house advertisement for Dior, which factors into the plot, to be sure, but never escapes the feeling that we’re being sold the product so brazenly. Indeed, as the movie notes, Dior can be appreciated by everyone, not merely the wealthy and well-to-do. But in that spirit, you can often feel as though you’re being advertised on its rich and divine splendors.

Certainly, it’s a tricky balancing act. You need to be saddled into Mrs. Harris’ run-down, worn-out shoes and get swept up into the majesty of such a lavish product. But at the same time, you don’t want to feel as though you’ve purchased a ticket for a two-hour Dior ad. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris thankfully fits more in the former than the latter camp, but there’s also the unmistakable feeling that some corporate influence is tampering with the purity at play here.

The bottom line.

For all its capitalistic endeavors and fleeting commentary on class and social politics, Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris remains delightful without ever feeling effortful. While Manville’s work does a lot of the heavy-lifting in that respect, it’s a credit to Fabian’s buoyant direction, along with his appealing adapted screenplay with Carroll Cartwright, Keith Thompson, and Olivia Hetreed, that the movie remains congenial and comforting, even if the runtime can also seem outstretched.

In true nicecore fashion, the film is more serviceable than substantial. But similar to this season’s The Phantom of the Open, it’s refreshing to see such a breezy, open-hearted character dramedy for adults, especially in the midst of a summer filled with so many busy, bombastic blockbusters. It’s nice to have some heart in the mix. What better place for that than a cinematic trip to the City of Love? 

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is now playing in select theaters. Watch the trailer here.

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