MRS. HARRIS GOES TO PARIS – Review by T. J. Callahan

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris: Where would I find the frocks?

A cleaning lady for London’s rich and famous yearns to own her own beautiful couture gown like
the ladies she works for, so she saves her hard earned shillings, flies to Paris and buys one
from the house of Dior. La fin. This story could very well end right here, but it’s Mrs. Harris’ path
to acquiring that frock that will warm your heart and make you smile.

Based on a novel set in 1957, the always wonderful Lesley Manville stars as the spunky Mrs.
Harris, a widow who lives frugally, bets on the Greyhounds and dreams of bigger things. One of
these days she’ll come out of the shadows and be seen for who she really is. Mrs. Harris is
Cinderella AND her own Fairy Godmother.

Mrs. Harris goes to Paris is a classic British chick flick with colorful characters, fun fashion,
perfectly polite people and snappy dialogue delivered in a sometimes hard to understand
Cockney accent. Manville and the equally brilliant Isabelle Huppert, in the same film, are worth
the price of admission alone, but along with the young and beautiful Alba Baptista and Lucas
Bravo, the age-old lesson to never judge a book by its cover goes down like a spoonful of sugar.

Yes, this film is overly sweet and wide-eyed at times as the thread seems to always end up
fitting through the needle, but Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris has a charming innocence we need right
now. A comic fairy tale that is oh sew magical. It gets a 7.5