gridoon2018 "The Woman In Question" has all the ingredients in place to be a good ol' whodunit, but it is more than that: it is a filmic essay on the subjective nature of truth, on how we frequently see people not for who they are, but for who we want them - or pigeonhole them - to be. John Cresswell's script is ahead of its time; Anthony Asquith's direction is workmanlike, sometimes routine, but other times creative. Jean Kent has what must be a dream assignment for any actor who wants to prove their worth - that of playing several characters who are really all one character - and she pulls it off successfully. But the rest of the cast is up to her level as well. This is a film worth seeing - possibly more than once. *** out of 4.

sol ***SPOILERS*** Clever Rashomon-like British film involving fortune-teller Madam Aster who was found strangled in her flat in an obvious crime of passion by someone she may not have been that passionate with.With policemen Supt. Lodge and his partner Inspt. Butler called on the scene they check out all the clues to Madam Aster's murder and come up with five suspects. As the movie goes on we get statements, and flashbacks, from the five suspects in Madam Aster's murder that all contradict each other. It becomes very apparent to both Lodge & Butler that Madam Aster had deeply offended everyone of the five persons suspected of murdering her. The trick is who of those that she offended was driven to the point of killing her! There's Madam Aster's landlady, and suspect #1, Mrs Finch who didn't like the company that she kept in her apartment that included, suspect# 2, double-talking BS artist and carnival mind reader Bob Baker. It was Baker who left Madam Aster for her far more attractive sister, and suspect #3, Catherine Taylor after she threw him out of her apartment! We, as well as Supt. Lodge & Inspt. Butler, can't leave out the kindly neighborhood "Mr. Fix It All", and suspect #4, Albert Pollard. The meek and always available Pollard was always trying to get the much younger Madam Aster to fall for him and, with both Pollard and Madam Aster still married, become his sex slave or live-in lover. All that the frustrated Pollard ever got from her, for his noble and unselfish services, was nothing more then a handshake smile and thank you!And finally we come to the insanely jealous rummy and bar-room brawler, as well as suspect #5, Sailor Mike Murray who wherever he went violence always followed. Sailor Mike went nuts when he showed up unexpectedly at Madam Aster's apartment, after being out at sea for three months, and finding her with an other man! Throwing Madam Aster's boyfriend, or possible John, down a fight of stairs a fired up Sailor Mike then checked out and got himself juiced up in a local ginmill. With Sailor Mike coming on the scene after Madam Aster's body was discovered by the police was that his way to show that he was innocent of murdering her or him just playing ignorant in order to throw the police off his tail! ***SPOILERS*** It's Supt Lodge who finally cracks the case not by having the evidence lead him to Madam Aster's murderer but the murderer him or herself unknowingly doing the job for him!

lfisher0264 This film repays several viewings. It's not just Astra who changes according to who's telling her story. People's memories of themselves are also flattering. Astra's sister Katie as remembered by Mrs Finch is a nasal-voiced slut. As remembered by herself she is as gracious as a member of the royal family. When we see her with the police (and this we assume is "reality"), she is much nicer than Mrs Finch's view of her, but more lower-class than her own self- image. In the minds of Mrs Finch and Mr Pollard, Astra is always seen in a shaft of light, her voice is like an angel's - and her dressing gown is clean. Katie has the unkindest view of Astra - seeing her as a round-shouldered slattern with a growing out perm, a filthy dressing gown, someone who sleeps in her makeup and (ripped) stockings. Though it's pretty clear that Astra supplements her fortune telling with prostitution, Katie - who is pleasant enough to have Bob fall in love with her - seems to be exaggerating Astra's vulgarity. But at the very end, when the Inspector tells Pollard "This is what really happened" we see... Astra herself, not seen through the distorting lens of another character. And she is the hunched, harsh-voiced woman in the dirty dressing gown.Apart from the unusual psychological detective story (who killed her? who was she?) this film is great for the background of the little seaside town, the shabby fairground, the little houses unchanged for 50 years.

Dierdre99 Made the same year - 1950 - as Rashomon which is acclaimed for retelling the same story several ways, The Woman in Question does the very same, allowing Jean Kent to portray five rather different versions of Astra, the fortune teller. The women in the film are much better drawn than the men, despite both the director and writer being themselves men, and despite the narrative framework of the all-male police team. Some would attribute this to Asquith's gay perspective. The combined portrait of Astra is not very flattering, especially her refusal to visit her dying husband, and in her using Pollard, the pet-shop keeper, to work for her for free, but then refusing his polite advances, she is walking a dangerous line. The underlying sadness of her person comes through, but she is not as sad as Pollard.The outstanding secondary character is Mrs Finch, the nosey neighbour from next door who never stops talking. Hermione Baddeley, in the part, practically steals the first part of the film to the extent that the rest almost seems like an anticlimax. Her characterization, her way of speech, the hairnet and the pinafore, owe a lot to the English tradition of comical working-class characters that goes back to renaissance theatre, was developed in the Music Hall, and is a precursor of the Monty-Python housewives chatting over the back fence. That is, it is very easy to see her as done by Dan Leno or Al Reid. A change of emphasis and we have a drag routine.