Ealing, the British movie studio formed during World War II that later became famous for a genre of comedy all its own, had a serendipitous relationship with Alec Guinness. In 1949, when Ealing was still looking to eke out its own identity separate from the war propaganda it had been producing originally, the studio released Kind Hearts and Coronets, a darkly humorous story of one man’s effort to become a duke by murdering his entire family. Guinness brilliantly portrayed all eight victims of the D’Ascoyne family and, despite a small amount of screen time per character, gave each family member his (or her) own personality and mannerisms. Two years later, Guinness starred for Ealing in both The Lavender Hill Mob, earning his first Oscar nomination, and The Man in the White Suit.

The Man in the White Suit starts off somewhat slowly as we’re introduced to Sidney Stratton (Guinness), an aspiring scientist who has problems keeping a job and is allowed to work in the lab of a large textile company for no pay. His experiments prove explosive and, just when he thinks he’s come up with whatever it is he’s trying to make, he’s branded a loon as his formula is destroyed. Undaunted by such adversity, the idealistic eccentric continues his work elsewhere and eventually constructs a fabric that he claims will never need washing and last forever. His boss is initially thrilled at Sidney’s new invention, until a textile rival opens his eyes to the capitalistic quandries such a development will raise. When Sidney refuses to sign away his rights to the fabric (for 250,000 pounds!), he becomes a hunted man by both the textile management and the industrial workers whose jobs would be threatened if such a product was released commercially.

On paper, the film sounds much less like a comedy than a drama or even a thriller. I can imagine a modern remake that completely loses the satiric elements in favor of a paranoid man-on-the-run suspense film. Of course to do that would be to entirely miss the point of what director and co-writer Alexander Mackendrick was trying to accomplish with The Man in the White Suit. The idea that society is somehow better off by maintaining the status quo with small, periodic advances instead of more sweeping and effective technologies is perhaps even more ripe for exploration today than it was in 1951 Britain. The questionable selfishness that Sidney exhibits in the development of his fabric is perceived as harming a larger group of people than it would help. Yet, is this really much better than capitalist society’s frequent appeals to a lowest common denominator in various aspects of life? Consumers are constantly bombarded with one-size-fits-all advertisements and products that we’re expected to purchase again and again. This is a problem that will continue to plague civilized nations indefinitely as long as we’re consistently given new toys that require frequent replacement or repair (see: computers, televisions, kitchen appliances, automobiles, cellular phones, etc.). The crux of the issue, as explored in The Man in the White Suit, is that any deviation from such a rigid tradition might result in chaotic consequences.

While the film certainly can be appreciated for its serious themes, there’s also a great deal of humor as expected by the involvement of Guinness and Ealing. The gag that most stands out to me is the baker, also dressed in solid white, who is briefly mistaken for Sidney when the mob of people are running after him. It’s not necessarily a belly-laugh inducing bit, but it’s smartly done and injects a nice touch of humor into the climactic chase. There’s also a poignant quality to some of the humor, such as the final solution to the seemingly indestructible suit. That all the chaos is eventually rendered moot surely has some comedic value.

In some ways, though, the movie succeeds more in idea than execution. Despite having a running time of less than ninety minutes, the first half drags a bit (at least on a first viewing) if you’re waiting for the titular suit to make an appearance. The idea of Alec Guinness wearing the blinding white suit is itself charmingly funny and the brilliant poster is perfect, if somewhat misleading. Furthermore, the satiric elements of the film almost lurk beneath the surface, only occasionally drawing attention to their presence. In some ways, this is an applaudable approach for not hitting the audience over the head with a message. In others, it muddies up the intentions of what should be derived from the satire. The second half of the film is smart, but it seems more admirable on reflection than enjoyable in practice. Additionally, we see Sidney evolve from an innocent idealistic who doesn’t understand the magnitude of his invention into a much more selfish and manipulative character who, by the end of the film, seems determined to see his fabric realized no matter the cost. Such an unsympathetic shift can be frustrating and mildly negate the unscrupulous actions of the textile companies for the audience.

Four years after The Man in the White Suit, Guinness and Mackendrick reteamed for The Ladykillers, the latter’s final film for Ealing. Guinness, of course, moved on from his Ealing work into more serious fare for David Lean and Ronald Neame before playing Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars. His performance here as the naively determined Sidney is a fine example of disappearing into the character without coming off as showy or forced. It’s not hyperbole to proclaim him as simply one of the finest, most versatile actors in film history. Mackendrick, by contrast, is frequently discussed as a great ”could-have-been” director who was unable to approach the great heights he scaled at Ealing after the arduous production of Sweet Smell of Success, a biting criticism of the power of gossip columnists such as Walter Winchell. That film, a cynical noir masterpiece, essentially ruined his career as a director and he would only finish three more movies before becoming Dean of Film at the California Insitute of the Arts in 1969, a position he held until right before his death in 1993