I think one of the reasons this story of impoverished farmers in the Depression South fails is that there is practically no one in it that we good, hard-working, industrious, generous, compassionate, law-abiding, God-fearing Sons of the Earth can identify with.
Except possibly for Elizabeth Patterson, Charley Grapewin's resigned and practical wife, the characters seem to have the minds of children. And not cute or charming children, but self-indulgent charlatans who steal, lie, bamboozle, finagle, and make promises they know they'll never keep. That's how the movie begins and that's how it ends.
Jeeter Lester's ancient mother has disappeared from their dilapidated shell of a farm house. Maybe she's gone off into the woods. She might be lost. She might even die up there. So Jeeter sits on his porch and mutters that maybe he'll go up and take a look for her sometime -- maybe next week. And he dozes off. Is this supposed to be funny? Director Ford insinuates his usual themes -- Danny Borzage's accordion music, "Shall We Gather At The River", my Grandpa built this country and now the bank is going to take it away, a scene in what may be a graveyard (Jeeter has forgotten where all his children are buried), the humiliation of the Poor Farm hanging over their heads. But it just doesn't work with this lot.
The cast is pretty good at their job, except we have to note that a little bit of the dithering but sly Charles Grapewin goes a long way. He was fine as the truculent Grandpa in a supporting role in "The Grapes of Wrath" but he can't carry a picture in the lead.
There are some humorous moments among all the trite sentiment but it's a curiously painful humor. When somebody comes suddenly into possession of eight hundred dollars (a fortune in 1933 rural Georgia), the first thing they do is buy a brand new Mercury convertible. By the next day it's a wreck but nobody cares. "It ain't hurt the runnin' of it none." It's something of a struggle to get through it.
Except possibly for Elizabeth Patterson, Charley Grapewin's resigned and practical wife, the characters seem to have the minds of children. And not cute or charming children, but self-indulgent charlatans who steal, lie, bamboozle, finagle, and make promises they know they'll never keep. That's how the movie begins and that's how it ends.
Jeeter Lester's ancient mother has disappeared from their dilapidated shell of a farm house. Maybe she's gone off into the woods. She might be lost. She might even die up there. So Jeeter sits on his porch and mutters that maybe he'll go up and take a look for her sometime -- maybe next week. And he dozes off. Is this supposed to be funny? Director Ford insinuates his usual themes -- Danny Borzage's accordion music, "Shall We Gather At The River", my Grandpa built this country and now the bank is going to take it away, a scene in what may be a graveyard (Jeeter has forgotten where all his children are buried), the humiliation of the Poor Farm hanging over their heads. But it just doesn't work with this lot.
The cast is pretty good at their job, except we have to note that a little bit of the dithering but sly Charles Grapewin goes a long way. He was fine as the truculent Grandpa in a supporting role in "The Grapes of Wrath" but he can't carry a picture in the lead.
There are some humorous moments among all the trite sentiment but it's a curiously painful humor. When somebody comes suddenly into possession of eight hundred dollars (a fortune in 1933 rural Georgia), the first thing they do is buy a brand new Mercury convertible. By the next day it's a wreck but nobody cares. "It ain't hurt the runnin' of it none." It's something of a struggle to get through it.