The Screengrab : the grapes of wrath

Reviews By Request: How Green Was My Valley (1941, John Ford)

Paul Clark — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:00:00 GMT

After last week’s Reviews By Request poll resulted in a tie, I decided to watch and write up the first of the two “requested” films, John Ford’s How Green Was My Valley, in advance of this weekend’s Oscar ceremony. My review of the second film, Tom Jones, will run two weeks from today.

Among many film lovers, John Ford’s How Green Was My Valley has gotten something of a bad rap as the movie that bested Citizen Kane for the 1941 Best Picture Oscar. And while Valley isn’t the film Kane is, we might say the same of nearly any other film ever made, which makes the comparison a little unfair. Moreover, it makes perfect sense that the Hollywood establishment would prefer the elegiac Valley to the scathing Kane, especially when you consider that both films were made during World War II, when national and pro-Allied sentiment were at their peak. But today, these concerns are incidental, and the most important thing is this- How Green Was My Valley is still a pretty terrific film.

How Green With My Valley, based on a best-selling novel by Richard Lewellyn, tells the story of the Morgans, a Welsh family living in a mining community around the turn of the century. The Morgans aren’t rich, but they seem to be pretty blessed- patriarch Gwyllim (Oscar-winner Donald Crisp) works in the coal mine alongside his five eldest sons, mother Beth (Sara Allgood) cares for the house with their only daughter Angharad (Maureen O’Hara), and the youngest boy Huw (Roddy McDowall) is bright and full of potential.

However, the family’s troubles begin soon enough. The closing of mines in neighboring valleys lead to a surplus of workers in the area, leading to lower wages and job loss. Two of the sons leave home to seek work overseas, later followed by two others. Angharad, despite her feelings for the local preacher Gryffudd (Walter Pidgeon), marries the son of the mine’s owner, a marriage that takes her overseas as well. And the mine claims both the family’s eldest son Ivor and, eventually, Gwyllim.

But although How Green Was My Valley is undeniably a story filled with loss, it’s anything but a slog. That’s because Ford, Lewellyn, and screenwriter Philip Dunne infuse the film with a warm nostalgia for the long-gone world of the film. The story is narrated by the now-grown Huw, and he remembers his childhood with fondness, and even when things didn’t go so well, he learned from his experiences and survived to tell the tale. Heck, look at the title. Not only does it emphasize the “was,” thereby implying that it’s no longer so green, but it’s also “my valley”, implying that it’s the valley of Huw’s memories.

Consequently, the storytelling is characterized by broad narrative strokes rather than minute detail. The circumstances of a miners’ strike are sketchy, as they would have been to a young boy (this is a far cry from the grimness of Ford’s last film The Grapes of Wrath). Huw’s memories of the strike consist mostly of talk of unionization, and the gloom that settles over the town during the months when the men aren’t work. Most of the film is like this, with adults’ affairs observed as if from a distance, although Huw’s own experiences seem more vivid. The only (small) objection I have to the film’s storytelling is that it occasionally brings out Ford’s somewhat awkward sense of low comedy. I for one could have done without the antics of a pair of drunken brawlers who are tasked to teach young Huw how to fight.

But such objections are small compared with achievements of How Green Was My Valley. Supposedly, the film was originally intended to be a massive Technicolor extravaganza in the vein of Gone With the Wind, but when the war began Fox had to move shooting from Wales to California, trim the running time in half, and shoot in black and white. I can’t say for sure, but I think the film benefited from this smaller scale- the travails of the Morgans probably couldn’t withstand the epic treatment. And while shooting in black and white was a practical decision that allowed the hills of California to convincingly double as the Welsh countryside, it also enhances the nostalgic vibe given off by the film in a way that the flashier Technicolor couldn’t have managed.

And if nothing else, it’s that nostalgia that makes How Green Was My Valley work even today. The chief pleasures of the film don’t come from the story but rather from the portrayal of the community itself, a community that, if it didn’t already belong to the past when the film was made, surely does now. Perhaps most important are the old Welsh songs that fill the soundtrack. Ivor is the leader of a chorus in town (he gets invited to perform for the Queen), but even the miners sing hearty tunes as they come down the hill after a long day’s work. “Singing is in my people as sight is in the eye,” observes the adult Huw, and this music extends even to the spoken dialogue. When Angharad gets engaged, Gryffudd’s heart is broken, but he buries his own feelings in the interest of her future. As he tells her, “I think I would start to kill if I saw the white come to your hair twenty years before its time.” Who talks like this anymore, if in fact anyone ever did? Exactly.

Visions of Change: Cinematic Utopias & Worst Case Scenarios (Part One)

Andrew Osborne — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 21:00:00 GMT

Now that our favorite reality show is over and Barack Obama has officially been declared America’s Next Top Commander-in-Chief, we here at the Screengrab can finally breathe a sigh of relief and allow ourselves a few hope-filled dreams of a better world full of gay terrorists and socialized abortions and redistributed wealth for all...while up in Alaska, Track and Trig and Trots and Trickle-Down and all the other residents of Wasilla are having nightmares about the very same thing.

As Milton said, “The mind is its own place, and in itself Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n,” and, frankly, given the overactive imaginations in our little corner of the blogosphere and all the campaign promises and scary robocalls of the past few weeks, we’ve spent WAY more time than usual contemplating any number of best and worst case scenarios for our nation and the future of humanity in general...

...which eventually led to us contemplating our Netflix queues instead, so we could stop thinking so much and just zone out for a while with the following movies, as we take a break from politics and go to our happy place (and a whole bunch of not so happy places) with our salute to The Screengrab's all-time favorite cinematic utopias and dark, dystopic futures!

IDIOCRACY (2006)

We already paid tribute to the brilliance of Idiocracy in a previous list, but it seemed appropriate to kick off with a nod to Mike Judge’s cult classic about a fast-food, monster-truck future where the average IQ has dropped to sub-Heidi & Spencer levels, anybody with an original thought is automatically labeled a “fag” and Ow, My Balls! is America’s number one show, since it features the endlessly hilarious spectacle of a man getting nailed in the nuts again and again and again and again and...anyway, let’s just say it’s the kind of “real” America a certain fake plumber I know might find utopian, while my elitist ass would be searching for the nearest “Time Masheen” home.

LOGAN'S RUN (1976)

There's always a catch, isn't there? The world of Logan's Run certainly seems like a utopian one, assuming your idea of an ideal society resembles a Dallas shopping mall circa the Bicentennial. Inside the domed city of the future, everything is provided for you, including all the sex, drugs and plastic surgery you could ever want. However, as your thirtieth birthday approaches, the red crystal implanted in your palm begins to blink, signaling that your time is just about up. On Last Day, you report to Carousel, which looks like a fun way to go if you like floating around in a colorful bodysuit and bursting into flames. Be advised that there is always the chance of "renewal" although no one really seems to know exactly what that is or if it has ever happened. If this seems like a bad deal, you can always run and seek Sanctuary outside the dome. There are two flaws in this plan: 1) Armed enforcers called Sandmen will try to kill you. 2) If you do manage to find Sanctuary, you'll probably be disappointed unless you want to spend the rest of your life with a smelly old man and his cats.

WALL*E (2008)

Let's face it -- for all the hard work that goes into designing them, most big-screen sci-fi and fantasy worlds aren't exactly the kinds of places we could imagine ourselves actually living in. To cite one example, we wouldn't want to live in a future full of feral Australians who power their city with pig shit, although to be certain, we'd consider it if Thunderdome was there. So compared to most movie futures, the world conjured up by Pixar's WALL*E looks pretty darned appealing. After all, doesn't it sound ever so wonderful to live forever in a deep-space colony where all of your daily responsibilities -- walking, feeding yourself, even procreating -- are taken care of for you by the latest in efficient yet people-friendly machines? In the world of WALL*E, all of this is possible. The catch? The space colonies aren't destinations for vacationers, but rather their new home after life on Earth became unsustainable as a result of excess consumption and pollution. Enabled by mega-corporate sponsor Buy-N-Large, the citizens of these brave new worlds become even lazier, not to mention universally obese. WALL*E was attacked by the right as being a pro-environmental screed (like that's really a bad thing?), but take a second look at the film and tell us it's not more of an attack on complacency, that unfortunate tendency on the part of most people to take the easy way out rather than do a little more work to save themselves in the long run. Luckily for the characters in WALL*E, life eventually finds a way, making it possible to resettle and rebuild the Earth. It's up to us to pull ourselves together enough to preserve our way of life before WALL*E becomes a reality.

ROAD TO UTOPIA (1946)

Okay, so it’s not really Utopia. It’s Alaska, which, judging by the quality of politicians they produce, is anything but. “Utopia” isn’t much more than the title of the final entry in the Bob Hope/Bing Crosby ‘road picture’ series; in fact, it’s just a hustle by Crosby’s Duke Johnson to swindle Hope’s Chester Hooton out of some cash. But Road to Utopia is far and away the funniest of the Road pictures, its self-reflexive, self-deprecating, mile-a-minute humor much more in keeping with the anarchic films of the Marx Brothers than the kind of hoke that Crosby usually associated himself with. There’s lots of inside jokes, an amiable hatred between the two leads, an absurd plot that never gets in the way of good gags, special guest appearances by master humorist Robert Benchley, and, of course, Dorothy Lamour, looking as lovely as ever. Watching Hope and Crosby take clever cheap shots at each other for an hour and a half may not be Utopia, but it’s close enough for us.

THE GRAPES OF WRATH (1940)

In Barack Obama’s America, “socialism” is a word that got thrown around before his election to scare people. Betting on the ignorance of Americans that dozens of prosperous countries get along just fine with some state control of the private sector, right-wing scaremongers used to imply that Obama was a new Stalin who would centralize the Wal-Mart and send anyone who owned a shotgun to a gulag somewhere outside of Wasilla. In John Ford’s Hollywood, though, “socialism” was a new and tempting word for a country that had been beaten to the point of utter despair by the worst economic depression in history. To millions of Americans, the limited socialism advocated by Franklin Delano Roosevelt seemed like it might be the country’s salvation at the same time the nation’s rich excoriated him as a communist who would be America's doom. While much of Europe turned to the poison of fascism to rescue it from the Depression, FDR’s mad notion that the government’s job was to help those who can’t help themselves found a receptive audience among most citizens – a notion reflected in The Grapes of Wrath. Late in the book, Tom Joad’s migrant Okie family, near shattered from death and poverty and hostile, exploitative bosses – come upon a farm camp called the Wheat Patch, which seems like a utopia: no cops allowed without a warrant, free food and shelter for those who work for it, and “the best dances in the county, every Saturday night”. Henry Fonda’s Tom Joad, in utter disbelief that such a place exists free from the cops and bosses who have tried to squeeze him every step of his journey, goggles: “Who runs this place?” Told it’s a government facility, he asks why there aren’t more of them. “You find out,” replies a caretaker with some cynicism. “I can’t.”

Click Here For Part Two, Part Three & Part Four

Contributors: Andrew Osborne, Scott Von Doviak, Paul Clark, Leonard Pierce

The Barack Obama Film Festival

Scott Von Doviak — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 19:00:00 GMT

Our British friends are delighted with America’s choice as new president, which hasn’t always been the case. (Who can forget the Daily Mirror headline from four years ago, “How Can 59,054,087 People Be So Dumb?”) In fact, they’re already prepared with some advice for President-elect Obama, even if that advice is as seemingly unimportant as the five films he should watch before taking office.

As Xan Brooks notes in The Guardian, Obama’s favorite film is The Candidate. “Robert Redford's idealism harks back to a better day. That said, my team won't let me watch the end for some reason.” In case you’ve forgotten, Brooks reminds us the film “ends with Redford's hero unable to cope with his victory; so drained and compromised by the campaign that he loses sight of why he ran in the first place. ‘What do we do now?’ he murmurs, as the mob runs in to claim him.”

Brooks understands that Obama may not have a lot of couch time between now and January 20, but he does offer five movies for the incoming president’s consideration. They include The Grapes of Wrath (“an angry, humane account of the last Great Depression”) and Nashville (‘a warts-and-all celebration of the American melting-pot”) as well as the cautionary tale A Face in the Crowd. Maybe Sarah Palin can take some time over the next four years to check that one out.

Take Five: Labor Day

Leonard Pierce — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 20:30:00 GMT

Usually, the Screengrab's Take Five feature is inspired by some new release coming out the day we go to press. However, sometimes, if the raft of new releases in relatively uninspiring or inappropriate, we go with a different sort of them, and since today is the start of Labor Day weekend, what better time to salute organized labor? After all, some of us are union men ourselves (hey, the National Writer's Union is too a real union! We're part of the United Auto Workers for some reason!); and what with the writer's strike earlier this year that brought the movie business to a near-halt, and the possibility of an actor's strike later in the year coming along to finish what the writer's strike started, America hasn't been this aware of what organized labor is up to in years! Unfortunately, unless Vin Diesel's mercenary Thoorop in Babylon A.D. happens to be a dues-paying member of the International Brotherhood of Hired Killers & Machinegun Operators, there's no new released this holiday weekend that are even remotely about unions or the labor struggle. But that doesn't mean we can't dip back into our video vaults and come up with five fine flicks about working-class struggle for your Labor Day enjoyment. (And, as a special treat before you go back to work on Tuesday, take a few hours to watch Barbara Kopple's masterful Harlan County U.S.A., referenced in last week's Take Five.) Happy Labor Day, readers!

MATEWAN (1987)

Possibly John Sayles' finest film, Matewan depicts -- with the heart of a union man and the eye of an artist -- the brutal struggle to unionize among the West Virginia coal miners of the 1920s, one of the bloodiest periods in the history of organized labor. Based on the Matewan Massacre of 1920 and featuring breathtaking cinematography by Haskell Wexler, Matewan' s powerful story is bouyed by wall-to-wall terrific performances by Chris Cooper, David Strathairn, James Earl Jones, and a young Will Oldham, in his pre-rock star days. Essential.

NORMA RAE (1979)

Martin Ritt's feel-good hit about a scrappy female textile worker who takes on the burden of being the point woman for unionizing the clothing mill in the deep South that employs her hasn't held up particularly well -- it's got a handful of good performances (and won star Sally Field an Oscar), but at times it comes across as a bit hokey. But it still stands as a testament to one of the last flashes of union glory in the U.S. before Ronald Reagan's Republicans started their unrelenting war against organized labor in America. Worth watching as a document of its day.

ROGER & ME (1989)

Sure, nowadays, it's pretty easy even for liberals to make fun of Michael Moore. His insistence on making himself part of his stories has gotten out of hand, and in many ways, he's become the caricature lefty the right has always accused him of being. But in 1989, when he launched his quixotic quest to have just a few words with General Motors CEO Roger Smith and ask him to look at the massive devastation wrought by his moving manufacturing jobs out of Flint, MI to avoid union costs, he seemed like a true breath of fresh air and a voice for the voiceless.

THE GRAPES OF WRATH (1940)

It's almost impossible now to overestimate the impact of John Steinbeck's finest novel and the stirring masterpiece of a film that John Ford made of it. With the sting of the Depression fresh in the minds of millions of viewers -- and with labor conflicts so intense that big agricultural interests in California sought to have the movie banned, just as they removed copies of the book from California libraries -- the gorgeous, moving film was no stolid classic then, but an urgent cry for justice and decency at a time when the country was in its direst of straits.

AMERICAN DREAM (1990)

By the time Barbara Kopple finished her disturbing, heartbreaking documentary about a strike by meat packers at the Austin, MN Hormel plant, Reaganism's determination to crush unions wherever they could be found had already made its tragic story about the slow, tangled dismantling and destruction of a labor negotiating unit a familiar one all over the country. A far more ambiguous work than her Harlan County U.S.A., American Dream nonetheless shows the unremitting sadness of the direction our country took when it allowed ideologues to launch an assault on the hard-won gains of the working class.