O Sal da Terra

Salt Of The Earth is best known as a blacklisted film made by many of the artists whose lives were destroyed by HUAC and the complicity of the film industry. While the film's very exsistance is a tribute to the determination of the artists to do the right thing and not be silenced, it is much more than that. It is also a moving film tribute to the underclass of America who suffer greatly due to injustice and inequality. The film portrays the strike of Chicano mine workers in New Mexico. Their demands, which the company took 15 months to meet, included such outrages as safety, equality, and indoor plumbing. The most interesting aspect of the film is the way in which the women of the community are forced to take a leading role. By linking the oppression of the workers to the workers' oppression of their wives, the film becomes not only a pro-union film but also a feminist one. The story is stirring, and the scenes where the women are attacked for standing by their men are unforgetable. Salt of the Earth probably has more to do with everyday American lives than 99 percent of Hollywood films. Its humane portrayal of regular people fighting for their rights cannot help but awaken the common elements in us all.

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.

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.

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!

I had never worked a day of construction until the Summer of 2001. I applied, got hired, and immediately recieved rank of apprentice under the dumbest white guy I'd ever met. While I'm trying to learn maps and numbers, all the minorities were grouped together for the grunt work. I didn't know it, but it seems that there is a war between the whites and the Mexicans on most construction sites, and apparently the port-a-johns are used as the venue for slanderous discussion. Salt of the Earth is almost fifty years old. It illustrates inequality between whites & Chicanos, male & female, and rich & poor. Is it possible that fifty years later nothing has changed? We've achieved nothing as a human race. Sadly, this lack of achievement is what allows this film to have great meaning to modern-day viewers like myself. I've got a tag line for this movie: "Don't fight 'til the end. Fight to win."