How Green Was My Valley (1941): Eitan's Take

It's a shame that John Ford's How Green Was My Valley has come to be known as "the film that beat Citizen Kane for Best Picture" when it should have already rightfully earned its place among the most well-regarded films of all time. Kane is a distinctly American film, with the labored intellectualism of Orson Welles driving a plot about business, ego, and the "American Dream." Meanwhile, How Green Was My Valley is a different kind of story, built upon foreign family ideals and the traditions of a far-off land few people seem to care about (Wales). However, I feel as though the values set forth in this wonderful -- though utterly depressing -- film are universal: family, faith, hard work, and preserving even the most painful memories of childhood as a way to stake out a vision for the future.

Although Kane was truly a masterpiece of cinematography, it's unbelievable that few look to this film as a perfectly shot specimen of celluloid. Every frame could be a photo; the bleak Welsh coal-mining landscape is rendered beautifully in a gritty black and white, and the angelic face of Roddy McDowall is photographed in such a remarkable way that you feel his optimism break through the dark clouds of grief that permeate the rest of the movie. I've always been a big fan of the look and feel of Ford's similarly depressing/uplifting The Grapes of Wrath (even though it doesn't hold a candle to the book), and it's clear that he knew he had hit the right note with that film one year prior and wanted to stay on a roll. My favorite John Ford movies are still Stagecoach and The Quiet Man, but this one is definitely up there -- maybe even better than The Searchers if I'm even allowed to say that publicly.

I said last night that I was impressed with the unpreachy, totally creepy and awesome Rebecca and how its win broke the trend of "important message movies," and How Green Was My Valley is definitely a sort of return to that mold. Nevertheless, I don't fault it, and I definitely don't fault it for beating out Kane. Orson Welles' masterpiece seems to have won in the end, so I'll tip my hat to Ford's film and award it a solid 8/10.

How Green Was My Valley (1941): Shira's Take

When I haven't gotten enough sleep and a movie can't keep me awake, I of course don't blame the movie. But when I got exactly the amount of sleep I needed and didn't have a very stressful day, and still a movie can't keep me awake, I think the movie is at fault. How Green Was My Valley opened with dreamy narration, beautiful shots of a small Welsch village, and emotion-invoking music. And throughout the movie, those aspects of it never faltered. It was just the interchangable characters and lack of interesting plot that made my eyes droop for parts of it. As is often the case so far with best picture winners, this was a very lovely-made movie, but I just couldn't care too much about the story.

One notable thing about How Green Was My Valley is that almost all of the movie had background music. I think this was very effective in making the viewers feel attached to the valley. It almost felt like home to me by the end--especially in scenes where Huw Morgan, played by Roddy McDowall, goes off to school outside the valley and the viewer gets to compare the atmosphere of the city to that of the valley. 6/10, though it scores higher for prettiness.