How Green Was My Valley

Two years ago, in the wake of THE KING’S SPEECH winning the Oscar for best picture, I heard a podcaster bring up a rather valid point. He noted that many in the blogosphere who had wanted so dearly for THE SOCIAL NETWORK to take top honours were comparing that moment to some of Oscar’s other supposedly egregious moments. He further noted that some voices online had gone so far as to say that THE KING’S SPEECH win was a reprise of CITIZEN KANE missing best picture in favour of HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY.

He pointed out something that has rang true with me ever since – that he wagered that many of those calling the award for HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY an err in judgement likely hadn’t even seen it. A valid point and one I think can be extended to other “egregious Oscar moments”.

While I never hollered all that loud about it, I was one of those who always wondered what happened in the 1941 Oscar race. Having finally seen HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY last week, I think I finally have a few theories.

For those who haven’t seen it (which I wager would be many), HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY is the tale of a small Welsh town. It’s a town where the main lifeblood is a mine, and all who live there rise and fall with the goings on in the pit. When times are good, everyone shares in the prosperity; when times are tight – which is often – many have to scrape to make ends meet. The crux of the story is a family of nine named The Morgans. The youngest, Huw, is the smartest by far, and the family’s great hope for doing something better with his life.

The film was directed by John Ford, who was already legend in Hollywood at the time (VALLEY would score Ford his third Oscar for Best Director). While he wasn’t even the studio’s first choice for the project (William Wyler was originally attached), Ford came in and took great strides to breathe life into the project. Not only was he able to make a Malibu ranch stand in for a Welsh country town, but he did so with a rather deft touch. The end result is a handsome film – one that finds beauty both in rolling fields and cobbled brick roads. It’s also a film with a message about acceptance within a community, and enough nods to workers rights to make it a fitting companion film Ford’s GRAPES OF WRATH.

This all leads us to the obvious question: “Is it better than CITIZEN KANE?” and the answer, unfortunately, is unclear.

For starters, the tone of the two films couldn’t be more different. KANE is a cynical look at America as it was in 1941, and indeed where it was headed. As much as it is a story of one man and how he never was able to find love on his terms, it is a scathing indictment of the blurry line between those in power and those who convey their message.

VALLEY, meanwhile, is a bittersweet glance to the past – the years before 1941 and the places that early Americans called their homes. It does not have an axe to grind or a flag to wave. All it seemed poised to do was make Americans examine who they are by reminding them of who they were. It too would make comment about the state of affairs in America, but with a few teaspoons less venom than KANE

While CITIZEN KANE was loaded to the rafters with tricks and techniques to achieve its subtle visual splendour, VALLEY used no such sleight of hand. Its visual glory, from the marching of the tenors through the town to the imposing dangers of the mine are all on display.

Finally, one cannot forget the talent involved. Lest we forget that the 26-year-old whiz-kid behind CITIZEN KANE was not universally liked in Hollywood back in ’41. He was so antagonistic in fact, that a major media mogul tried to have him and his project blackballed. Ford on the other hand couldn’t be more well-liked. Already a legend, he had worked his way up through Hollywood almost from Hollywood’s birth. Kane might have had his Band of Brothers with The Mercury Players, but Ford had a virtual army of name actors that worked with him and followed him loyally.

But the question remains unanswered: Is HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY better than CITIZEN KANE?

Citizen Kane

Had you shown me both films one afternoon in 1941, I would likely say they were equal. As with a lot of great art, there is no comparison since the two pieces are doing such radically different things. They are both affecting, both handsome, and both wickedly relevant. One seduces with splendour, one poses with panache, and both leave the viewer with the bitter taste of loss in their mouth.

What Oscar voters in 1941 did not know – what they couldn’t have known – was the legacy these two films would leave. That’s why it seems so curious, that’s why we are hellbent on heckling some seventy-two years later. KANE has gone on to be dissected, hailed, puzzled over and mimicked. VALLEY meanwhile has gathered some moss. It is still every bit as beautiful as it was in its day…but it doesn’t hold nearly the influence that its fellow nominee now does.

As I said before, Oscar voters have never had a sense of legacy. They seldom check off their ballots thinking about what choice will “look right” in the future, and they just as seldom check their ballots thinking about what choice encapsulates the moment. They vote with their heart, and they vote with an eye to the past. Why else do you suppose so many Best Picture winners tell stories from years gone by (a trend poised to continue this year)? This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but sometimes it can make a decision look curious in hindsight.

While I’ve long been a fan of CITIZEN KANE – one who actually enjoys it along with respecting its technique and influence – this has long been a moment in Oscar history that has intrigued me. Now that I have the whole story, it intrigues me even more. I might still love one film more than the other, and it’s easy to see how one film became more influential…but it makes sense…

…in a “spring of 1942” sort of way.

18 Replies to “Battle Born: The Year Oscar Took a Walk with Kane in a Green Valley

  1. I don’t know about you, but I correctly predicted THE KING’S SPEECH when it won.

    Also, even though I like the film, there’s no way I’m going to compare THE SOCIAL NETWORK to CITIZEN KANE.

    I haven’t seen HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY, so I have no comment on that film,

  2. I actually think the Academy in 1941 were lucky to have two frontrunners out of ten nominees out of a very controlled studio system. Now we have a democratized film industry. If we’re pissed about VALLEY’s win, future generations are going to be livid about what movies the Academy is snubbing right now.

    1. Again, not really the point I was trying to make. As far as those who get grumpy over their films of choice getting overlooked, I’d wager at least a third of them haven’t seen the films they get passed over for.

  3. I actually have not seen either one, but I could see how CITIZEN KANE’s legacy lived on longer than HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY. But like you said, it doesn’t mean one is a ‘lesser’ film than the other. As for The King’s Speech, I predicted the win and was glad it did.

    1. I’d bump them both up the to-watch list.

      KANE is a personal favorite and would be the one I’d start with. Forget about all of the accolades you’ve heard through the year and just settle in for a good story.

      VALLEY, I’d actually suggest as part of a classic double-feature. Piggyback it with THE GRAPES OF WRATH, another gem by John Ford.

  4. I’m not the biggest fan of Ford, but it’s hard to argue that he’s one of the most influential directors we’ve got. I think the Citizen Kane narrative– the battles over its creation, Welles’ hubris, etc– make it much more interesting for film historians to dissect. When you’re writing an article for Entertainment Weekly or the New York Times, which is going to grab the audience more: studio director Ford or self branded bad boy Welles?

    Who knows, if Kane had one, perhaps we would all instead be (rightfully) shaking our fists that How Green or Grapes of Wrath were overlooked for the big prize. But the prize is just a prize; we’ve still got the movies, and how they matter to us is more important than how they matter to the Academy.

    1. Good point – sometimes it’s easier to get attention and read-thru clicks by being antagonistic rather than trying to provide clarity.

      And you’re right, a prize is just a prize. That’s why for the last three or four years I’ve tried to live by a simple award-watching mantra: “The trick is to not mind”.

    1. There we go!

      I think some of them do – whether or not it’s the *right* thought is a different story. There was actually a fascinating article on The Hollywood Reporter this week that outlined a voter’s logic as he filled in his ballot.

  5. The book I’m currently reading – The Big Screen by David Thomson – just had a whole chapter on Kane and delved a little bit into this subject, noting how Kane was both ahead of its time, and thus tougher for Academy-ites to properly process, and a movie with a protagonist that was tough to latch onto emotionally which was not what the country would have necessarily wanted at the height of war.

    When I try to think of a contemporary comparison the one that leaps to mind is, maybe, Driving Miss Daisy winning in 1989 and Do The Right Thing not even being nominated. The Academy, to quote Carmine Falcone, always fears what they don’t understand.

    1. You got it Nick. What would any filmmaker rather have? A little statue that says they turned in their paper on time and got a gold star? Or to have created a piece of work that is lasting and influential?

      Perhaps it comes down to creating a film that encapsulates its time, and one that is ahead of its time?

  6. It was a strong year don’t forget The Maltese Falcon, Sergeant York and Suspicion were all nominated too.

    How Green Was My Valley is an import film for those interested in Ford, it was his last film before going of to make war documentaries/propaganda films. His later films had a different feeling to them. It still stands up as a great film.

    When we talk about the academy as a whole awarding a film, it is easy to forget that they are individual voters. They may get caught up in the publicity, public opinion or zeitgeist of the time, but they are individuals choosing their favourite film. I only tend to have a problem when people vote for a film because it is worthy and not because its good.

    And on top of all that, it’s always worth remembering what Orson Welles said when asked who his favourite three directors were: “John Ford, John Ford, and John Ford.”

    1. Oh I know! That’s something I remind people when they grumble about wins by films like FORREST GUMP and CRASH too. I remind them of the whole field and how they were years where Oscar had so many good things to choose from.

      You’re right, when it all boils down to it, we’re grumbling about 6,000 individual opinions…but sometimes it seems like those 6,000 people are living off in a bubble all their own, away from the rest of the world who look at the same subject differently. Well heck, they are! The bubble is called “Hollywood”.

      Given that final quote, I’m sure that Welles must have thought “If I’m gonna be passed over for anyone, I want to be passed over for John Ford”.

  7. There is a lot of Grapes of Wrath in How Green was My Valley–I commented that the main differences are the weird Welsh names and coal mining instead of fruit picking. But they do play on the same basic themes.

    I wasn’t a fan of How Green was My Valley, not because it beat Kane and beat The Maltese Falcon, which everyone forgets came out that year and was nominated as well. My issues with the film are its provincialism, the evident belief of so many of the characters that this life was the best they could expect, and that even thinking of aspiring to more–even when such aspirations were legitimate–was not merely folly, but somehow unnatural. I’m thinking in particular of the mother.

    As for King’s Speech vs. The Social Network, I think I’d have voted for The King’s Speech between those two, but I’d have thought long and hard about voting for Black Swan over both of ’em.

    1. 2010 was a tough year to choose. I could have gone with 127 HOURS or INCEPTION myself.

      That provincialism is a bit tough to swallow, especially for those of us who never had that sort of life. The truth though is that there are huge swaths of people in the world who will be born, live, and die all within the same region without ever striking out on their own. I don’t think it’s the best line of thinking, but it’s hard to really take shots at those who do.

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