Salt of the Earth

There is nothing fancy about this film. It just tells a story that has to be told. The events are based on a true labor dispute, halfway the twentieth century, between American miners and the trust that controls their mine (among many others). It is docudrama, using realism, and consequently what you get is what you see. This seems a good choice, considering that there are already too much ambiguous films about trade unions (for example, On the Waterfront, or the various Hoffa interpretations). There is little action, and the film shots are sober, but the suffering of the people guarantees that you remain focused (if you have empathy). Interestingly a part of the characters play themselves. The miners feel that their wages are unfair and decide to strike (with support of their union). The situation is particularly tense, since the miners are of Latin-American origin, and are discriminated by the mining company. Naturally the miners form a picket line in order to stop scabs, and they succeed in this intention. The company decides to begin a war of attrition, and the miners have a hard time, in particular since the local sheriff takes side with the bosses. If we may believe the film story, the police officers are not too lazy to harass the strikers and lock them up. It seems as thought the strike is lost, when the court rules that the picket line is illegal. But then the wives of the miners step in, and take over the picketing. After many months the trust finally caves in. At last a strike with a happy ending!

As a U.S.-born Latina whose family has lived in the northern New Mexico/southern Colorado region since the early 1700s, I'm ashamed to say I had never heard of this film. I was trolling through Netflix for something to watch one night when this popped up in my "suggested films" list. Boy, am I ever glad I watched it.

My grandfather was a coal miner in southern Colorado, and the coal-mining industry (and its effects on Hispanos of the Southwest) has been an interest of mine all of my life. Quite simply, this film brought history to life for me. The actors, location, themes, language, and other details were so authentic, that I felt I was watching a documentary at times. I felt a spiritual connection to my grandparents, who lived and worked in coal mining camps in the early part of the 20th century. I grew up hearing their stories, and the devastation of the Colorado Coalfield Wars and the Ludlow Massacre.

This is, quite simply, a stunning cinematic achievement, especially given that it was written and filmed in 1954. Sadly, many of the prejudices and themes in the film resonate today. Little has changed for many of the hardworking Hispanos who have called the Southwest home for centuries.

In the early 1950's, film studios were under attack from two directions. Small screen TV had put a big dent in theatre attendance, while the Mc Carthyite cold war had put a big chill in the cultural milieu. A formerly lucrative industry found itself suddenly reeling, with a future no longer very certain. In short, the commercial winds had changed and Hollywood needed an overhaul. To meet TV's challenge, studio moguls introduced big screen Cinerama, biblical spectaculars and full-cleavage romance goddesses; to please congressional investigators, they fired unrepentant left-wingers and blackballed them from future employment. Social commentary, never much of a staple, disappeared entirely, while the escapism of Westerns, Tennessee Williams, and bedroom innuendo took over. The 50's had arrived with a vengeance.

Against this backdrop, Salt of the Earth appears to have parachuted in from another planet. In retrospect, the film's look, feel, and values, plus use of non-actors, represent an anti- Hollywood aesthetic in just about about its purest form. Instead of the usual ersatz, there are company shacks, a desolate land, and real workers sometimes speaking a foreign tongue about hot water and labor solidarity. This was and is about as far removed from the fabled dream factory as any commercial film before or since. To my knowledge, Salt is the only professional movie made in America by known communists. And though I've seen it a number of times, I've yet to detect a theme that any conscionable liberal would disagree with. The emphasis throughout is on reform, not revolution.

So why was the movie so thoroughly ostracized. Aside from the obvious negatives, there are two aspects that challenge patriotic assumptions about the power of the individual. The strikers win because of their solidarity, that is, their capacity to overcome internal divisions in pursuit of common goals. But more importantly, theirs is a leaderless solidarity. Unlike so many other labor films, no one person arises in Salt to take charge or direct the actions of the others. No single iconic personality dominates. Community of labor is the real agent of change and victor here, while no one individual can be pointed to as indispensable. Second, through the pivotal role of Esperanza (a professional actress), the individual is shown as flowering amidst the common effort. Far from being submerged in a faceless mass, she discovers through participation a heightened sense of individualness and a wealth of hidden talents. Moreover, a stronger, more confident Esperanza means a stronger, more confident strike effort. In short, it's not individuality versus the group, but individuality from within the group. I don't know how subversive these ideas ultimately are, but I do know they challenge decades of iconic film-making, in which the omnipotent movie star, a John Wayne or a Sylvester Stallone, is transformed into a demi-god and exalted above the common folk. Against this grain, Salt seeks to empower its audience, not dis-empower.

There are many fine touches in the film. I'm glad the workers are not romanticized, nor are the bosses or their law-enforcement allies caricatured. Instead the hardscrabble families are treated as ordinary people, able, nevertheless, to act intelligently beyond the cultural limits placed upon them. Ordinarily, the viewer would expect a heavy hand with such politically charged material; however, the producers have the good sense to hew to a lighter approach that features unexpected deposits of humor, as when the men whine about being forced to hang out the wash. This furnishes both a good laugh and an incisive piece of social commentary. In fact, most of the movie's considerable humor comes from its strong feminist subtext, certainly a striking exception to the Ozzie and Harriet stereotypes of the period.

Despite an obvious appeal to cultural historians, Salt is much more than a mere artifact. There is, of course, no more Mc Carthy-led purge, and miners' wives have long since gotten hot water and indoor plumbing thanks to labor militancy. Nevertheless, the film's social themes continue to reach beyond that long-ago period. Women continue to strive for equality, just as the workers' wives in Salt struggled as domestics against the chauvinism of their husbands. Moreover, the need for racial equality remains as pressing now as it was in Michael Wilson's prescient screenplay. And, of course, there's labor's ongoing battle to get something like a fair share of the wealth it produces. Far from being a dead artifact, the power of this suppressed treasure along with the courage of the men and women who made it, continues to echo across the decades, furnishing inspiration to generations to come.

"The only film in US history to be blacklisted."

That alone is praise!

SALT OF THE EARTH, a powerful film shot on a threadbare budget, mostly with local non-actors, was branded as "communist propaganda" during the infamous McCarthy "Red Scare" and was hardly shown in the USA when first released. However, the film was widely exhibited in Europe, where it was lauded with acclaim. It wasn't until the 1960's and 1970's that anyone in the USA had a decent chance to see this powerful work, and then only in film festivals, union meetings, or college campuses.

It is not propaganda. It is about the struggle for dignity and recognition. The making of this film it testament to that alone! For fear of destruction by "anti-communist" technicians, the film stock had to be smuggled into development labs and worked on in secret! Director Herbert J. Bieberman was arrested during filming, and had to give scene directions by letter and telephone while in prison.

The film the U.S. Government didn't want you see...now part of the National Film Registry. Consider watching this as driving a stake through Joe McCarthy's heart.

At the height of anti-communist paranoia this film was bound to be blacklisted. But its realism, naturalism, cinematography and significant plot make it a work of art. A harsh yet beautiful one. And one that has aged well - not dating itself at all even after the fall of communism. Things were never as simple as a duel. They are even less so now. And much of our hope resides with the fact that within the remaining superpower dissent should be at the very least tolerated - at best a multiplicity of views encouraged.