The Woman in the Hall: rediscovering a 1940s ‘bad mother’ melodrama

In his review of the 1947 British drama The Woman in the Hall, the Daily Mail critic Fred Majdalany declared it a “refreshing change to have… a mother who is in every way a thoroughly bad egg”. The character of Lorna Blake, played by Ursula Jeans, was certainly a contrast to the wives and mothers of wartime British cinema, who kept the home fires burning or selflessly ‘did their bit’. But I wonder if Majdalany was as enthusiastic about Sonia Dresdel’s murderous housewife in This Was a Woman or Freda Jackson’s evil foster mother in No Room at the Inn, both released the following year. Lorna Blake’s sins were mild in comparison: sloth and greed, plus a lack of scruples about lying.

Lorna is a professional beggar, knocking on the doors of the wealthy and spinning tales of woe in the hope of coaxing some cash from them. Her two daughters, Molly and Jay, are often props in her performances, used to tug at the heartstrings of her targets. But Lorna doesn’t anticipate the psychological damage her lifestyle inflicts on her offspring, with Jay (Jean Simmons) landing in trouble with the law.

Prolific novelist G.B. Stern adapted her own 1939 novel for the screenplay; she has sole credit on the script held by the BFI National Archive but the film itself acknowledges that producer Ian Dalrymple and director Jack Lee contributed as co-authors. Stern’s vision for the film comes across strongly in the original; her stage directions even describe accents and vocal timbre, visual and sound montages, as well as detailing camera movements.

Much of this seems to have been abandoned by Lee, here directing his debut feature. It was the first production by a new company called Wessex, set up by Ian Dalrymple, and the crew included many debutantes, most of whom were imported from the Crown Film Unit. John Krish – later a celebrated documentary filmmaker – was given his first full-length editing job, and, to avoid favouritism, Dalrymple took on two cameramen, Henry Fowle and Cyril Pennington-Richards, who took turns setting up and lighting shots.

The cast also contained some new faces. Jill Raymond was spotted by G.B. Stern performing in Dear Brutus at Shaftesbury Avenue and earmarked her for the role of Molly. In her last term at RADA, where her studies had been supported by her mentor C.S. Lewis, she was tested and got the part. She recalled the overnight transition from impoverished student with only her bus fare and the price of a coffee, to being chauffeur-driven to a Pinewood dressing room with a star on the door. Another newcomer in the cast was 10-year-old Susan Hampshire who gives a very assured performance as the younger Jay.

Raymond’s first experience of film acting was somewhat tainted by Jack Lee’s directing style. “Jack Lee didn’t like me,” she revealed, and apparently did most of his direction by shouting at her. She recalled that one of her love scenes with Edward Underdown was cut because he felt she wasn’t up to it. Luckily, her fellow actors were more pleasant to work with, Cecil Parker being particularly generous. In the scene in which they dance together, she recalled him explaining how he made sure they stayed in shot, and allowing her to get the close-ups.

John Krish confirmed Raymond’s view of Lee, recounting how, early in the shoot, the director accused production designer Peter Proud of tampering with the set. Proud denied it, Lee refused to back down and the two didn’t speak for the rest of the 12-week shoot.

Despite these tensions, there was a family atmosphere at Wessex, with three married couples on set: Jack Lee and production manager Nora Dawson, Joy Raymond (publicity director) and John Wilcox (make-up), Peter Proud and Beryl Neville-Stack (costume). Ursula Jeans’ husband Roger Livesey turned up on one occasion, taking a break from filming Vice Versa (1948) at Denham to give her a birthday surprise. And apparently the wife of Martin Walker, who played the judge in the courtroom scene, was always present when he was filming, as the carafe of water in front of him actually contained gin and he had to be helped off set in between takes.

Critics considered the plot somewhat improbable, but the Sunday Chronicle conceded that Jack Lee “has elicited from his actors – Ursula Jeans, Cecil Parker and Jean Simmons – performances so radiant with authenticity that…inconsistency fades like fog in sudden sunshine”. The Evening Standard recognised that Simmons had a particularly challenging role, but deemed her performance a “triumph of intelligent artistry against formidable odds”.

The film’s press material reveals the contradictions at play in post-war Britain. On the one hand, exhibitors were informed that posters would be limited due to paper shortages, and much was made of the inventiveness of Proud, who had managed to create the sets using a mixture of paper, hessian and plaster.

But the promotional tie-ins indicate the growing consumerism of the late 1940s and Simmons was a major selling point, not just for the film but for products featured in it as well. Local Curry’s stores were invited to display photos of her “enjoying a quiet moment” with the Alba radiogram and, less relaxingly, she posed with the new Electrolux vacuum cleaner. On the sartorial front, a knitting pattern for the monogrammed sweater she models was available in Woolworth’s, and local jewellers were encouraged to display a photo of her sporting a lapel ornament made by Cohn and Rosenberger.

The original nitrate negatives of The Woman in the Hall came to the BFI National Archive from Rank in 1993, and preservation elements and a viewing copy were made the following year. It’s available to view via the BFI’s viewing service, and the pressbook and script can be accessed via Special Collections.

The Woman in the Hall will screen at BFI Southbank on 4 September 2025 at 18.15, with an introduction by actress Susan Hampshire who plays Jay as a child.