6/10
Propaganda Potboiler
13 June 2005
Based on true events, Salt of the Earth tells of Ramon Quintero (Juan Chacón), a Mexican-American, and his wife, Esperanza Quintero (Rosaura Revueltas). They have two kids, with one more on the way. They live in a small New Mexican town that seems to exist only because of the local mine where Ramon works. The Quinteros are getting by, but it isn't easy--they live in a small, somewhat rundown house, Ramon has had to buy a radio that Esperanza wanted on a payment plan, and so on. The mineworkers are unionized. When the mine institutes new rules that decrease safety/increase the probability of accidents, the miners object. After a near-accident, they decide to go on strike, but focus the strike on inequality between the Mexican-American workers and the "Anglo" workers. Salt of the Earth is the story of the strike, which goes on an inordinate length of time. At one point, even the workers' wives end up striking in their place.

Like The Passion of the Christ (2004), this seems to be a film that many people evaluate for its ideological basis or even the cultural facts surrounding the film more than they rate for its value as an artwork.

I agree that the cultural facts surrounding the film are fascinating. Salt of the Earth has been the only "blacklisted" film in U.S. history to date. This is due to a number of reasons. The film was produced in the early 1950s, during the McCarthy era, when the U.S. government was officially paranoid about communists and other leftists. Salt of the Earth director Herbert J. Biberman was part of the famed "Hollywood Ten" who were ostracized when they refused to testify before the House of Un-American Activities Committee in 1947. Also, Salt of the Earth exists to express its leftist politics. So even if Biberman hadn't been part of the Hollywood Ten, the subject matter still would have been problematic for the era. You can read about the cultural milieu of the film in much more detail in The Suppression of Salt of the Earth: How Hollywood, Big Labor, and Politicians Blacklisted a Movie in Cold War America, by James J. Lorence, published in 1999 by the University of New Mexico Press.

As for the film's ideology, if I were to rate it on that I'd be giving it a 1. I'm not a leftist in the least. I'm not pro-union. I'm a Libertarian in the vein of the U.S. Libertarian Party. My opinion of the film ideologically includes that (1) the mine should have hired other workers, (2) the strikers should have been arrested if they blocked the road or touched anyone or their property who was trying to get past or through their picket line (non-consensual initiation of physical and property manipulation should be prohibited, in my view), (3) the eviction (later in the film) should have been carried out; anyone and everyone physically interfering would of course be arrested, (4) the repossession was just, (5) Ramon should have looked for another job if he didn't like his present one and his employer wouldn't change the conditions he disliked. On the other hand, I do agree with the film's take on female empowerment.

But, I disagree that we should be judging a film on our opinions of the film's ideological basis or on cultural facts surrounding the film. We should be talking about whether the film works as an artwork. Whether it's a good film outside of cultural facts or our agreement or disagreement with the film's politics, philosophy, etc. On those grounds, I think that Salt of the Earth isn't a complete disaster, but it has a lot of problems. I ended up giving it a 6, equivalent to a letter grade of "D" in my system.

The first problem for me was that Salt of the Earth plays as if it is very thinly veiled propaganda. Maybe I shouldn't call it "propaganda", as that reveals my ideological bias. What I mean, more accurately, is that the drama doesn't seem to unfold "naturally". Most of the dramatic hinges of the film seem to be anchored to the need for making a point in a rhetorical argument. For example, the radio is brought up to make an argument against the idea of buying on credit. This is a difficult problem for any film primarily concerned with making ideological or philosophical points. Biberman didn't quite solve it.

The cast is a mixture of professional actors, amateurs and locals, including people who were involved with the real-life strike that served as the basis of the film. The majority of them, professional or not, come across like amateurs. Revueltas, one of the professionals, often sounds like she's reading her lines, and in a relatively stilted manner, whether she's narrating or appearing in a scene. Chacón, despite his unlikable character, actually comes across as more convincing, although he's one of the amateurs and his performance isn't entirely successful, either.

Biberman's direction tends to be pedestrian at best. The script, by Michael Biberman (a relative, I'd assume) and Michael Wilson, could be used as the definition of "potboiler". There is little artistry to the structure of the story or the dialogue; it just chugs along, linear and banal. On the positive side, the story is certainly coherent, there is little fat that could have been trimmed, and so on. Potboiler construction tends to guarantee that level of competency, so it isn't entirely negative.

The primary attraction to Salt of the Earth, as an artwork, is its politics, since that's about all there is to it. I wouldn't cite its cultural history as an additional attractor, as the relevance to cultural history is solely based on the film's politics. It's not really worth watching to see what all the fuss was about, because it's likely to disappoint you on that end. If you're sympathetic to the film's politics, however, you might enjoy it for that reason.
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