Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane became the default choice for greatest American film, but Welles himself preferred “the old masters,” by which he meant: “John Ford, John Ford, and John Ford.” With striking black-and-white photography, flawless editing, and revelatory performances, Ford’s adaptation of John Steinbeck’s Nobel Prize-winning novel makes a strong claim for Kane’s lofty position. The Grapes of Wrath surrounds the viewer with the profound sadness of a Beethoven sonata. Before the story even begins, the characters already have suffered as many hardships than the heroes at the ending of a tragedy. Darwin, however, would offer more insight into this story than Aristotle. The Joads, a family of Oklahoma sharecroppers, have become an obsolete organism. Nature has reduced their once fertile soil to a dusty wasteland. Whenever they manage to pick themselves off the ground, some harsh force drives them back down, whether natural, economic, legal, or political. Their struggle to survive even requires physical acts of self-defense. Nevertheless, this species retains its dignity. Their search for meaning amidst such suffering elevates their humble dialect to poetry. Beyond their words, though, a gallery of genuinely woeful faces will haunt the viewer quite permanently.
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