Hollywood in the 1930s was a great era for collaboration, under the steady guidance of the studio system. It wasn't an age in which independent filmmakers could thrive, but by and large they didn't need to since studio output was of such high calibre. And yet, there were still times when producers and directors had such a burning desire to get a project off the ground that they just had to strike out on their own. The director, producer and indeed the writer of Our Daily Bread is King Vidor, a man of such good sense, knowledge and professionalism that he was able to make a picture that is head and shoulders above the typical indy feature.
With neither studio backing nor stacks of cash, Vidor couldn't get the perfect set-up. Most of the cast are bit players or B-movie stars, so they are a rough bunch, but nevertheless carefully chosen. Lead man Tom Keene I have only seen in one other lead role, and that is in the DeMille silent The Godless Girl, where he is billed under his birth name of George Duryea. Like many silent stars his career dwindled but never quite fizzled out. His voice and manner bear more than a passing resemblance to James Stewart. He doesn't have half the talent, but he has that same honest charm and boyish enthusiasm. He really comes into his own when making a speech and whipping up the crowd – close your eyes in those scenes and you could almost believe it was Jimmy himself. Karen Morley was a fairly prominent character actress, and while she is not outstanding she is not conspicuously bad. Barbara Pepper fulfils the typical bad girl role, and isn't really required to have any more dimension than that. Addison Richards is a little wooden but certainly has presence. And John Qualen is always entertaining, and he proves himself fully able to expand his silly Swede persona beyond a mere comic relief caricature.
And Vidor was lucky with his collaborators. As well as securing the services of a competent technical crew, he managed to get nine-times Oscar winner Alfred Newman, before he became Fox's in-house composer and was just a jobbing musical director. Newman's score for Our Daily Bread is delicately touching in a way that film music rarely was, and the massive orchestral finale he provides gives the picture a truly symphonic feel. It is clear the composer absolutely understood the necessary tone, and he is undoubtedly the most crucial contributor after Vidor.
But what about Vidor himself? As always his work is supremely beautiful, and he directs with both heart and head. He begins the picture with cramped interiors, with little space between camera, players and the back wall. In the earliest scenes on the farm the space is still not properly opened out – the camera tends to point towards the ground and trees block the horizon. Only when the commune is established and the land cultivated are we hit with the full majesty of the outdoors. These are typical Vidor shots – sublime, sweeping, almost surreal landscapes that seem to call to something deep within us. As the picture progresses we move from straightforward realism into cinematic fantasy, with montages, aesthetic imagery and an increasingly prominent musical presence.
I haven't yet touched on why Vidor – a respected industry insider with a healthy career at MGM – had to do Our Daily Bread off his own bat. It was of course too politically controversial at the time for the majors to consider. It's a shame he couldn't have done it with studio backing, and that it was virtually ignored in its day. And yet such is Vidor's determination he has pulled off a production that may not be entirely smooth but at least has no gaping flaws. And as for the politics, whether or not it represents a crazy dream or an attainable paradise, Our Daily Bread's appeal should be universal, because it is above all else a stirring and evocative paean to human endeavour.
With neither studio backing nor stacks of cash, Vidor couldn't get the perfect set-up. Most of the cast are bit players or B-movie stars, so they are a rough bunch, but nevertheless carefully chosen. Lead man Tom Keene I have only seen in one other lead role, and that is in the DeMille silent The Godless Girl, where he is billed under his birth name of George Duryea. Like many silent stars his career dwindled but never quite fizzled out. His voice and manner bear more than a passing resemblance to James Stewart. He doesn't have half the talent, but he has that same honest charm and boyish enthusiasm. He really comes into his own when making a speech and whipping up the crowd – close your eyes in those scenes and you could almost believe it was Jimmy himself. Karen Morley was a fairly prominent character actress, and while she is not outstanding she is not conspicuously bad. Barbara Pepper fulfils the typical bad girl role, and isn't really required to have any more dimension than that. Addison Richards is a little wooden but certainly has presence. And John Qualen is always entertaining, and he proves himself fully able to expand his silly Swede persona beyond a mere comic relief caricature.
And Vidor was lucky with his collaborators. As well as securing the services of a competent technical crew, he managed to get nine-times Oscar winner Alfred Newman, before he became Fox's in-house composer and was just a jobbing musical director. Newman's score for Our Daily Bread is delicately touching in a way that film music rarely was, and the massive orchestral finale he provides gives the picture a truly symphonic feel. It is clear the composer absolutely understood the necessary tone, and he is undoubtedly the most crucial contributor after Vidor.
But what about Vidor himself? As always his work is supremely beautiful, and he directs with both heart and head. He begins the picture with cramped interiors, with little space between camera, players and the back wall. In the earliest scenes on the farm the space is still not properly opened out – the camera tends to point towards the ground and trees block the horizon. Only when the commune is established and the land cultivated are we hit with the full majesty of the outdoors. These are typical Vidor shots – sublime, sweeping, almost surreal landscapes that seem to call to something deep within us. As the picture progresses we move from straightforward realism into cinematic fantasy, with montages, aesthetic imagery and an increasingly prominent musical presence.
I haven't yet touched on why Vidor – a respected industry insider with a healthy career at MGM – had to do Our Daily Bread off his own bat. It was of course too politically controversial at the time for the majors to consider. It's a shame he couldn't have done it with studio backing, and that it was virtually ignored in its day. And yet such is Vidor's determination he has pulled off a production that may not be entirely smooth but at least has no gaping flaws. And as for the politics, whether or not it represents a crazy dream or an attainable paradise, Our Daily Bread's appeal should be universal, because it is above all else a stirring and evocative paean to human endeavour.