‘Child in the
House’ (1956) has a fine cast. The child star of the title is Mandy Miller, who
so memorably played a deaf child in the film that shared her name. Meanwhile,
she is supported by Stanley Baker, Eric Portman, Dora Bryan and Phyllis
Calvert. There are also tiny roles for
Alfie Bass and Joan Hickson. This roll call alone is enough to send me running
to see this film.
Young Elizabeth
(Mandy) is sent to live with her aunt and uncle (Phyllis and Eric) when her
mother is taken into hospital. Meanwhile, her father (Stanley) is on the run
from the law for being a wrong ‘un where money is concerned. It’s all
heart-wrenching stuff, only lightened by the presence of the huge-hearted maid
(Dora).
What I found
most interesting about this film was Phyllis’ role as the aunt. The story opens
with her going to collect Elizabeth from Victoria station and we are treated to
an excruciating first meeting between the pair. It is obvious from the outset
that the aunt has no experience of children and is quite nervous at the
prospect of taking care of her niece. It is one of those scenes that is tense
to watch and although you want to give her a bit of a talking-to, you can find
sympathy for her at being thrust into this unexpected situation.
They arrive
home, and luckily for Elizabeth, it turns out that her uncle is a thoroughly
nice chap who does know that you can carry on being yourself when a youngster
is present, and not have to put on a tense smile the whole time. As the film
progresses, you can see them build a rapport. But the aunt’s attitude to
Elizabeth spirals downwards, as she is unable to understand the child and
therefore handle her. She resorts to shouting and sanctioning. Finally, at a
high point of tension, the uncle turns on the aunt, accusing her of marrying
him for his prospects while secretly being in love with Elizabeth’s feckless
father. It emerges that she has forced him to live in a “loveless home”. The
implication here is that she cares only for status and refused to give her
husband any children. She is a cold, hard-hearted cow. Just to round off the
portrayal of a monster, she breaks the child’s beloved musical handbag.
Clearly,
Phyllis’ character is a monster simply because she has no children. Her state
is unnatural and she deserves to be vilified. That is the message that I took
from this film role. What’s worse, we are forced into feeling sympathy for the
criminal father because he is a father and he loves his child. So that’s
alright then; basically he is a sound human being even if he is a thief and
confidence trickster. Unlike her, the barren-wombed harpie.
What we are
seeing here is a society that placed huge importance on parenthood. After World
War Two, the government wanted women to desert the freedom of the workplace and
become mothers, thus opening jobs up to returning servicemen and pushing up
population numbers, decimated over two generations by bombs and guns. To not
produce children meant that you were either a sad lost cause or a nasty piece
of work. Because of this, the film gets away with this one-dimensioned
portrayal of a woman. It is never explained why she remained childless, we are
merely invited to condemn. Being a woman in the 1950s was really not all it’s
cracked up to be. It is still an issue that has not been satisfactorily
resolved.
I reflected how
relatively quickly some things can change. There is a growing movement that is
calling for action on population. If global population numbers do not slow down
or reverse, one day soon we are all going to be in trouble in terms of
resources available. Wouldn’t it be interesting if society and culture began to
actively frown upon families with more than one child? One hundred years on
from the date of this film, maybe Phyllis’ character and real women like her
will be seen as saints...
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