Among the more famous of the many renown album covers in Bob Dylan’s catalog is that of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan. It shows Dylan and a woman walking towards the camera, her arm looped through his and hugging it tight. There’s a huge, genuine smile on her face. I challenge any guy who has seen that, regardless of their preferences, and not wanted the moment the photo captures. That is the feeling throughout 1954’s astonishing comedy Hobson’s Choice, though my analogy might need the genders reversed.
This is a film set in the era of Dickens, though it feels outside of any specific timeframe, aside from sometime in the late 19th century, or maybe even the early 20th. I noticed there were only a few horse-drawn carriages shown, so I think that contributes to the sensation of being vague as to its era. Still, it is a time when shops would have a giant symbol of their ware hanging outside, for the benefit of those who can’t read.
It was also a time when women had few options. Brenda de Banzie is a woman with a strong mind for business, being the true brains behind her father’s (Charles Laughton) shoe shop. Her two younger sisters (Prunella Scales and Daphne Anderson) work alongside on the display floor. All three long to marry, but Laughton knows de Banzie is too critical to his operation to let her go. As for the other two, he is too cheap to pay dowries.
John Mills is the illiterate shoemaker working in the basement below, creating the actual product. After a wealthy woman (Helen Haye) seeks him out specifically for the quality of his craftsmanship, de Banzie sees an opportunity. She decides Mills is going to marry her and, with a loan she’s sure they can obtain from Haye, start their own shop. As she puts it to him, “You’re a business idea in the shape of a man.”
It is uncertain which prospect Mills is more terrified by: the wrath of Laughton when he ends his employment or the possibility of marrying a woman he admits he does not love. In the brief period of wooing before the nuptial, the two sit on a park bench facing a polluted river, which isn’t a great portent. He tells her he can’t marry because he does not love her. Ever the pragmatist, she says that’s OK, because she has enough love for both of them.
There’s also the small obstacle of his current courtship of Dorothy Gordon, the daughter of his landlord (Madge Brindley) in a very poor section of town. De Banzie goes there to explain the change of plans, which does not go over well, and I love how Mills is waiting outside when he sees a Salvation Army band marching towards him holding aloft a banner reading “BEWARE THE WRATH TO COME”. In a beautiful moment, we watch Mills’s face as he feels a newfound pride and strength resulting from overhearing De Banzie sing his praises. As they walk away, she tells him he will never have to go back there again, and his slowly building smile is truly heartwarming to see.
Still, there is the father to contend with, though Laughton is doing a stellar job handicapping himself through his addiction to drink. He holds court with his cronies each day at a pub named Moonrakers. I only learned after the fact that is slang for “fool”, which is appropriate. It also foreshadows a great solo scene for Laughton, where he tries to catch the moon’s reflection in various puddles in the street. With his soft, fleshy features, he’s like a drunken toddler as he stumbles around.
What’s interesting is he is top-billed though he is far from the star of this feature. Mills is second-billed and, though he has far more screen time than the other actor, de Banzie is the undisputed top attraction. Her performance is brilliant, and that is among a very stacked cast. There’s not a miscast performer here, with every one of the characterizations pitch-perfect. Also notable is a very young Scales, whom I know best as Sybil in Fawlty Towers. It is interesting how she already has many of the same mannerisms and expressions she would use later in that legendary sitcom.
Nothing about this film is flashy, but it is brilliant, nonetheless, and it feels as if it was no effort to make. Every shot and transition uses only whatever composition or technique is appropriate. Laughton’s signature “moon chase” scene has gorgeous photography, which seems odd to say of a studio set cobblestone street at night. A great transition occurs when after the wedding of de Banzie and Mills, where the couple gets showered with flower petals, and a crossfade seems to impossibly follow that same shower across town to their basement apartment.
Similarly, the script is perfect and every line crackles with electricity. And yet, curiously, this isn’t a very quotable film. I can’t imagine dropping any lines from it in conversation. This isn’t This Is Spinal Tap or Withnail & I. Of course, unlike those films, nobody would recognize the source if I did.
I wish instead I could somehow quote subtle facial expressions, because that is where Hobson’s Choice especially shines. One of the great treasures of cinema are the many instances of Mills gradually realizing he has the potential to be something far beyond his dreams, and it is all because of his new bride. And then there’s the look she gives him when he stands up to even her. Her moist eyes as she steps up to him are full of pride, and I bet that guy felt like Dylan on the cover of that album.
Dir: David Lean
Starring Brenda de Banzie, John Mills, Charles Laughton
Watched on Studiocanal UK blu-ray (region B)