One of the greatest pleasures in visiting and residing in Cannes for any considerable length of time is the ability to visit and partake in many delicacies of the daily, open market which features a cornucopia of exotic delights ranging from fruits and vegetables to cheeses of all kinds along with meats, breads, pastries and prepared foods such as ravioli, lasagna, cassoulets, etc. As well, there is a fresh flower market attached which is comprised of unusual floral offerings of exotic and brilliant colors.

Many Cannois make a daily, early morning trip to the market to purchase what they need for that day’s meals while the city’s restaurateurs do the same as they cater to the needs and desires of the visitors to the tourist region.

I always wondered what an average meal prepared in the home of a resident of Cannes was like?

As I was at the market early one morning not so long ago, I heard the distinct and unmistakable roar and rumbling of a Harley Davidson motorcycle! Such a machine causes a noticeable stir here as it forces its way through the narrow, cobblestone streets with a monstrous clamor as opposed to that of the ubiquitous scooter.

In addition, the figure astride the great machine was tall, slim, athletic and clad from head to toe in form-fitting black leather, the outfit included an opaque black helmet. He looked like he was straight out of a Luc Besson movie — a French hit man!

But he was a she – and I knew her! This sexy apparition with overtones of the dominatrix was Dany who had come to the market to shop for dinner for her family. I had met her and her husband Jacques one or two afternoons before at a small beach restaurant.

Dany was striking in the “leather getup” along with the Harley. But striking or not, she was, this morning, a housewife shopping for her family of four. To my delight I was invited to share their dinner that evening which I did with much gratitude for them and the farmers of the region who provided all the raw materials for what resulted in a fabulous meal — lamb stew!

There are many great movies about the struggles of farmers — these come immediately to mind: “East of Eden,” “The River,” and “Milagro Beanfield War.” But I’ve decided to chat about what might be my favorite old movie of all, “The Grapes of Wrath,” starring Henry Fonda and directed by John Ford. It brings to the screen the great John Steinbeck novel and is unforgettable! Remember, sound movies were only a few years old and the technology of cinema in its infancy!

And for heaven’s sake don’t allow yourself to be put off by its “oldness” — it doesn’t matter! “The Grapes of Wrath” is a great work of art that has more than stood the test of time.

Movie Review:

The Grapes of Wrath

Directed by John Ford
Screenplay Written by Nunnally Johnson

Starring: Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, and John Carradine
Based upon the novel by John Steinbeck (below)

“In the vast library where the celluloid literature of the screen is stored there is one small, uncrowded shelf devoted to cinema’s masterworks. Films which by dignity of theme and excellence of treatment seem to be of enduring artistry and to be recalled not merely at the end of their particular year, but whenever great motion pictures are mentioned. To that shelf of screen classics, 20th Century Fox added yesterday its version of John Steinbeck’s “The Grapes of Wrath,” adapted by Nunnally Johnson, directed by John Ford and performed at the Rivoli by a cast of such uniform excellence and suitability that we would be doing its other members an injustice by saying it was headed by Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Carradine and Russell Simpson.” (New York Times Review, January 25, 1940)

The above is the first paragraph of the review from the New York Times in January 1940 as this great (and already hailed as a classic) film opened. The art of the cinema was in its very early days — an often turbulent marriage of creativity, technology and business. But it already had great artists expressing themselves within the genre and more than a few of them worked together for weeks or months or even years to create this great film (Henry Fonda, Jane Darwell, John Ford, Greg Toland, Nunnally Johnson, John Steinbeck, etc.). I was not quite four years old when this review was published and probably didn’t see the movie for a few years but I may have “seen” it right away and don’t remember. My family (like so many others) were movie-goers and didn’t miss many major releases. I was usually taken along after the age of four or five years.

But I watched the movie again today, and tears flowed three times: when Muley was despairing over the loss of his land, when Ma Joad was looking at her earrings and the memories of more promising times, and when Ma was pleading for her son Tom to stay and help her keep the family together. The motion picture is a popular artform and, as a result, at times it offers societal and historical markings or signposts of significant events that are at play in the consciousness of a nation (or nations). “The Grapes of Wrath” is such a movie or film or artistic statement. Adjectives like wonderful, powerful, beautiful, heart rendering, searing, indignant, etc. are used to describe the experience.

And an experience it is as you travel with the Joads, an Okie family cruelly uprooted from their lands during the dustbowl of the depression era ’30s. The evil ones are the sinister bankers and nameless corporations who take advantage of these defenseless “salt of the earth” farmers who have fallen on hard times.

Their homes or shacks are treated as trashy inconveniences by armies of tractors as the land is cleared to be made ready for other uses. Meanwhile the Joads (along with thousands of other dispossessed) head for California (see still photo below), the “land of milk and honey,” lured by deceptive promises of work and fair wages. Once there they discover more lies, inhumanity and injustice.

But the steely resolve of the Joads (led by Ma) does not allow for meek acceptance. They soldier on, resolute in their faith that hard work and good living will in the end allow them to mark out for themselves lives of quiet dignity and integrity.

All the while Tom Joad, the hot-tempered maverick son, plays out his role as the quintessential American hero — the fundamentally good man who while good, will not stand for injustice and at the conclusion of the film kills a hired bully forcing him to leave the family and take flight. Ma says to Tom, “Tommy, ain’t you gonna tell me goodbye? ‘Oh, I read no fault in you,’ ‘What are you goin’ to do?“ And Tom, played magnificently by the very young Henry Fonda says, “I’ve been wondering if all our people got together and yelled… Maybe I can scrounge around and find out something… I’ll be everywhere, I’ll be there when a cop beats up a guy.” So Tom leaves to look into this terrible imbalance in things, promising his mother (and us) to be a kind of “Shane-like” figure — to stand up for the little guy everywhere he can and to be unafraid because that’s what real Americans are at their core!

Back to the first paragraph of the 1940 New York Times review — it says it all. “The Grapes of Wrath” has stood the test of time — a wondrous and powerful evocation of an important American novel and issue. It doesn’t get better than this!