Review of The Grapes of Wrath (1940) by Anna B — 06 Jan 2014

I know this is a tired, shallow criticism, but the book really was better. Steinbeck's overwhelming sadness and anger are conveyed beautifully through Toland's photography, and it has profoundly affecting moments.

Unfortunately I was really distracted by the bad accents, and the original plot, which is already pretty wonky, is stretched and poked around much to the film's detriment. Grapewin gives the only authentic performance, and Carradine hams it up like he's in a B-movie.

You can't ruin this story (hence my score), but it seems like somebody was trying.