







This is the kind of romantic supernatural fantasy which was popular just after WWII. It's set at the start of the twentieth century in England, Hollywood. Gene Tierney is a recent widow, and moves to a picturesque seaside town in order to find herself and escape her oppressive in-laws. There, Mrs. Muir meets the ghost of a sea captain (Rex Harrison) who narrates to her a best selling tale of the oceans.
Maybe in the years after the war, it was likely there would be an audience for a story about a bereaved woman who falls in love with a man who (probably) only exists in her thoughts. And about a widow who must find the strength to go on alone. There are many interesting themes on the subjects of loss, and also the creative process.
But mostly the film is a charming comedy-romance. Rex Harrison is engaging as the salty, barnacled sea-dog. The beautiful Tierney is extremely sympathetic as a woman searching for a second chance in life, which is sadly unfulfilled. When she seeks to re-engage with the world through George Sanders' decadent rake, she is badly let down.
Joe Mankiewicz creates a rich period atmosphere from his studio sets and the shadowy, expressionist photography. And there's a superb score from Bernard Herrmann. Sure, it's a sentimental tearjerker, but there is intelligence and craft too. The stars are wonderful together; they elevate the whole film and make you care, which makes the magical ending a real heartbreaker.
Some films start out as an easy, cosy watch, then quietly get under your skin. This one does it with sea fog, sharp jokes, and a house that feels like it’s already got opinions.
Gene Tierney is terrific as Lucy Muir — romantic, practical: a widow insisting on her own space in a world that would rather she borrowed one. Rex Harrison plays the captain like a man who’s allergic to the living: proud, prickly, and (annoyingly) quite lovable once the grumbling settles. George Sanders turns up selling comfort and status with a smile, and you know it comes with strings. Edna Best’s Martha is a joy: loyal, sceptical, and able to deflate a scene with one look.
Mankiewicz keeps it in the sweet spot between funny and wistful, and Bernard Herrmann’s score rolls in like the tide, doing a lot of the feeling for you. The ending is gorgeous and a bit cruel: you get the romance, but you also get the bill.
I have heard this film mentioned for many a year from grandparents and parents but I was very pleased to have finally watched it and my generation-related cynicism was completely unfounded: this is a lovely film, well-acted and it would not have been out of place being from one of the major UK film makers at the time (Ealing et al). It speaks of a more relaxed, easy-going, kind and genteel time, where boundaries existed and words and actions meant something. The most pleasing thing to me? That the lovely Gene Tierney got an English accent of the time spot on - proper enunciation, with no lazy Americanisms nor slovenly phrasing.
A poignant ending that well suited the whole ambience and feeling of the film.