Hobson'soice. (Plaza,)—The Good Die Youn g. (Odeon.) DAVID LEAN has very
nearly succeeded in making a masterpiece of Harold Brighouse's play Hobson's Choice, failing only inasmuch as he has allowed the central character to splurge himself in such lavish colours over the canvas as to unbalance the picture's proportions. Charles Laughton as the north country bootmaker, the drunken, miserly, autocratic father of three sup- pressed girls, is altogether too emphatic, too ebulliently overflowing and, especially in his moments of intoxication which are backed by aggressively jovial music, too
much of a stage comedy figure to fit into the carefully monochromed surroundings. Not that Mr. Laughton can ever be bad, but he
can, and often is, too big. Beside him John Mills as Willie, his inarticulate illiterate employee who is lifted up by his bootlaces to dizzy heights by the eldest Miss Hobson, is as a spaniel beside a St. Bernard—here a St. Bernard who has broached his cask of brandy. He is the very essence of humility, and to watch him grow slowly, under the light of love and encouragement, into dawn- ing self-confidence, is to watch very fine acting indeed. This is one of the best, most subtle and most charming perform- ances Mr. Mills has ever given.
Even so the biggest portion of praise must be offered to Brenda de Banzic as the woman who marries Willie much against his inclinations and inspires him to become her father's successful rival. In her all the good sense and toughness of the north is coupled with a magical warmth, in her is robustness and imagination, ambition and romance, a whole delightful personality drawn to perfection. Mr. Lean has for the most part caught and held the atmosphere of the era in which his film is set and his characters looked as though they belonged to it, only Mr. Laughton who, one presumes, . by the very flamboyancy of his powers has a way of inspiring his directors to exaggera- tion, slipping dangerously near farce.
The Good Die Young is an Anglo-American thriller that calls upon the assistance, every iota of which it needs, of a firmament of stars and their satellites. Laurence Harvey, Richard Basehart, Margaret Leighton, Robert Morley, Freda Jackson, John Ire- land, Rene Ray, Stanley Baker, Joan Collins and Gloria Grahame are all here jostling for positions, illuminating the otherwise not very bright story, and under Lewis Gilbert's guidance they manage to keep its little flame alive. Four men from different walks of life, an American clerk, a gentleman of leisure, a U.S. sergeant and a boxer, find Themselves drawn together in a London pub by their troubles, these stemming in equal parts from their wives and bankruptcy. The tale of each man's woes is related convincingly in the inevitable flashbacks, but one feels they are not sufficiently tragic to warrant the extreme measures taken to remedy them. All save Mr. Harvey are honourable men
and by no means fools, yet they meekly agree to rob a mail van with the result that not one of them is left alive. For after placing £90,000 under a conveniently loose tombstone in a cemetery conveniently placed a few hundred yards, one supposes, from Mount Pleasant, Mr. Harvey shoots two of his confederates, pushes one on to a live rail and gets shot himself in a telephone booth. Robbery and violence are all very well if one is desperate, but certainly three out of these four men could have had their problems sorted out by the Citizens Advice Bureau, and not only could have but would have. It is this weakness in characterisation which mars the film. Still, it is very well acted within its limits and this always gives pleasure, Mr. Morley and Miss Leighton in their small parts and Mr. Basehart in his large one notably smoothing the rough places with their impeccable professionalism.
VIRGINIA GRAHAM
Previous page
