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to leave the land where he had been born. It was Ma who watched Grandma (Zeffie Tilbury) die in the desert and then lied to the border patrol so that the family could get through to California. It was Ma who never failed the family, even when it began to break up under the strain of hunger and hopelessness.
Henry Fonda has the simplicity and directness of great acting as Tom who was inexorably forced into the hunted life of an outcast. Russell Simpson as Pa, who had worked hard all his life, only to find that his best was not good enough; Dorris Bowden as the pathetic, childish bride who wanted only a little house; Eddie Quillan as the shallow-witted Connie who planned with giddy hope to be a mail order radio repair man; John Qualen as the shaken Mulie who hung around his wrecked homestead like a ragged ghost; John Carradine as the unbalanced preacher, all are so exceptionally fine that anything but highest praise of their work is impossible. The rest of the cast is packed with wonderful little performances. Dozens of splendid players appear for instants only, contribute telling moments to the film, withdraw. They are far too many for individual credit, but this film is well worth seeing a second time, just for the purpose of examining the many fine performances that are minor in time only.
You will hear, particularly from native Californians, the protest that The Grapes of Wrath is a one-sided picture of a problem. That is true, because the story is the history of dust bowl refugees in California, not of the entire state. There isn't time to show the confusion of the Joads of another generation . . . the people who had the luck or the wit to find themselves a little holding in California while yet there was time, or to show the problem of the Californians who can take care of themselves but who, no matter how sympathetic, just do not have enough to care for thousands and thousands of penniless people.
John Steinbeck's book offered no solution. It was just a story of what is happening to tens of thousands of Americans. The picture offers no solution, either. But it ends with a promise.
In the last scene, the Joad family is once more on its way in the fantastically heaped truck that holds all of them and their miserable possessions. Ma Joad lool;3 ahead down the wonderful, smooth highway. "Nothing can stop us!" she says. "Because we're the people. We go on and on. We're the people that live."
You never can tell who's who in Hollywood, which is one good reason why you've got to be careful what you say and why. Kurt Simon, in his daylight hours, is a 27-year-old messenger boy out at Warners. He calls it a red-letter day if he receives, just once, something better than a "step lively, you!" from his superiors.
But at night he's something different. Vastly different. He is the director of television broadcasts over station W6XAO, and his superiors, if they're lucky enough to be on the show, "yes, sir" him all over the station.
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