While the story centers on a young Sara Crewe (played by Liesel Matthews), who is forced into servitude at her boarding school after it’s reported her father died at war, one of the most memorable performances comes from Time Winters, who plays a milkman named Frances who is embarrassingly in love.
The boarding school, which is full of rich, emotionally neglected children and large ornate pianos, is run by the cartoonishly evil Miss Maria Minchin (played by Eleanor Bron), who tortures them for being little and bosses around her long-suffering and spineless sister Amelia Minchin (played by Rusty Schwimmer). However, while Amelia’s life is one mostly composed of simultaneously enabling and being victimized by her child abuser sister, there is a glimmer of romance that peeks in through the door every week when the milkman Frances arrives, and they exchange wanting glances.
Baltimore Pictures
From his first appearance on-screen, Winters fully steals the spotlight with his commitment to this milkman’s longing and clumsy crush. There are gentle but abruptly withdrawn brushes of the hand, he forgets to leave the milk in a flurry of butterflies and anxiety, and he stumbles over his words in a way that is both childish and all-too-real for anyone who has biffed it in front of a love interest.
Each time Frances drops off the milk, there is another layer of crush built upon his last appearance, and the smoldering gazes and awkward small talk between him and Amelia fills the room entirely. In one moment, we see little Sara and Becky (the only Black girl who is also a servant at the boarding school, played by Vanessa Lee Chester) giggling at the obvious romantic tension as they do their kitchen chores.
In a movie that largely centers on childhood trauma as experienced through the lens of World War I, classism, and a boarding school director that achieves Matilda levels of cruelty, Winters’ performance as Frances infuses the movie with a heaping dose of romantic chemistry. The palpability of his attraction and affection towards Amelia is so strong, it rivals some of the most well-known romantic pairings (I’m looking at you, Baby and Johnny) despite having far less screen time to develop rapport. Much of this is done through body language, the nuances of how Frances moves his arms and face in the presence of this woman he longs for, and the ways they both can’t see how obviously they’re acting like smitten 12-year-olds at the roller rink.