It's 50 years old, but it still tells the truth.
This movie needs to be screening somewhere, all the time, in Bush's America. Hell, Bush's world.
From
IMDB:
"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 existance 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."
The script can be read online
here. (It's in Google cache. The Geocities site has exceeded its bandwidth.)
I love this scene (Striker Ramon is uncomfortable with his wife, Esperanza, participating in the action):
ESPERANZA
No, you don't. Have you learned nothing
from this strike? Why are you afraid to
have me at your side? Do you still think
you can have dignity only if I have none?
RAMÓN
You talk of dignity? After what you've
been doing?
ESPERANZA
Yes. I talk of dignity. The Anglo bosses
look down on you, and you hate them for
it. "Stay in your place, you dirty
Mexican" -- that's what they tell you.
But why must you say to me, "Stay in your
place." Do you feel better having someone
lower than you?
RAMÓN
Shut up, you're talking crazy.
But Esperanza moves right up to him, speaking now with
great passion.
ESPERANZA
Whose neck shall I stand on, to make me
feel superior? And what will I get out
of it? I don't want anything lower than I
am. I'm low enough already. I want to
rise. And push everything up with me as I
go ...
RAMÓN
(fiercely)
Will you be still?
ESPERANZA
(shouting)
And if you can't understand this you're a
fool -- because you can't win this strike
without me! You can't win anything without
me!
He seizes her shoulder with one hand, half raises the other
to slap her. Esperanza's body goes rigid. She stares
straight at him, defiant and unflinching. Ramón drops his
hand.
ESPERANZA
That would be the old way. Never try it
on me again -- never.
And from the end:Ramón holds the baby in the crook of his arm. He hands the
portrait of Juárez to Luís. The boy gazes at it with
respect, wipes the dust off it, and readjusts the torn
frame. Ramón heaves a long sigh. Unsmiling, he looks off at
the receding convoy. Esperanza watches him. There is a
pause. Still not looking at her, Ramón says haltingly:
RAMÓN
Esperanza ... thank you ... for your
dignity.
Esperanza's eyes fill with tears.
RAMÓN
You were right. Together we can push
everything up with us as we go.
ESPERANZA'S VOICE
Then I knew we had won something they
could never take away -- something I
could leave to our children -- and they,
the salt of the earth, would inherit it.