The signs that something is a little zany about Ty Ty Walden and his financially-ailing Southern family aren’t too hard to catch. Within a minute or so into the film, we’re offered some telling glimpses.
Along with two of his sons, Buck and Shaw, we see Ty Ty on a hot afternoon at the bottom of a deep hole, looking exhausted and sweaty. The trio has been shoveling, you see, because they’re dead set on finding—any guesses?— that’s right, gold. The number one thing that the great state of Georgia is known for.
Or perhaps not. Indeed, rather than use their time, energy, and land to grow at least a crop or two and bring in some money, they’ve focused their fervor on this particular mission. Ty Ty, in fact, has been digging for gold on his property for the last fifteen years.
If that all sounds rather quixotic—bonkers would be another way to describe it—wait until what happens further on in the same scene.
The strikingly beautiful Griselda, showing off her buxomy figure in a thin, low cut dress, comes to offer the sweaty fellows some lemonade. Gracious for a cool drink, Ty Ty excitedly raises the pitcher to his lips. And oh, how happy he looks! But that’s more so because he’s staring at this beautiful young woman, to whom he confidently remarks, “If the good Lord seen fit to put a beauty like you in our house, I’m gonna take my fill of lookin’ while I can.” To which the sultry and playful Griselda lets out a flirtatious laugh.
Griselda, you might be interested to know, is not Ty Ty’s wife. Nor is she Ty Ty’s girlfriend. She’s not even an attractive nextdoor neighbor. Instead, she’s his…wait for it…daughter-in-law. That’s right, Buck’s wife.
This interaction is pretty much par for the course. In fact, this general scenario repeats itself in all kinds of twisted forms (some much more so than others) throughout God’s Little Acre—which, despite what it might initially sound like, is actually an engrossing and interesting story.
Directed by Athony Mann, this 1958 film is a close adaptation of Erskine Caldwell’s 1933 novel of the same name. Whether you watch the film or read the book, you’ll enter a narrative quite unlike anything else you’ve likely encountered.
Who is Erskine Caldwell, some might be asking? It’s a fair question. Despite being an immensely well-selling author—and born within the same ten or so years as American literary luminaries like Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Steinbeck—Caldwell today has very little name recognition. Neither his name nor the titles of his novels are likely to ring many bells.
Nonetheless, he was a prolific author. One of his better known works, Tobacco Road, tackles similar themes as those in God’s Little Acre, and uses a similar setting and cast of characters in which to do so. Between these two novels, however, the latter has considerably more energy, intrigue, and—despite how crazy it is at times— . Indeed, as bonkers as it is, you might be surprised how invested in the story you become.
And on that note, let’s return to the nutty and bizarre world of the Waldens.
We left off with Ty Ty adamant about finding gold, and drawing in the daily services of Buck and Shaw to help him. (He has a third son, Jim Leslie, very well to do, who has basically cut himself off from his father.)
Ty Ty’s two daughters are the flirtatious Darling Jill—her name is no coincidence—and Rosamond, who lives in South Carolina with her husband, Will Thompson. The latter is ultimately portrayed as a brute of a man, virile and physically irresistible; he is the de facto leader of a group of mill workers currently out of a job. Buck and Shaw don’t care for their brother-in-law—“lint head” and “townie” they call him—and the feeling is very much mutual: Will’s choice of name calling is “farm boys.”
If you sometimes stayed home sick from school in the late 90s and found yourself with not much to do, you might remember turning on the TV and seeing all sorts of relatively provocative and raunchy talk shows featuring bitter lovers and feuding family members. God’s Little Acre feels a little bit like that.
At least, to an extent. Ernest Caldwell was no slouch of a writer. Not at all. So what was he trying to tap into in this rather lurid and tragicomedy piece of fiction?
Primitive and unrestrained drives seems to be one major thing—the most obvious being sexual drives. Yet the narratives of Ty Ty’s ludicrous quest for gold, and Will Thompson’s life and death struggle as an out of work mill worker are narratives that intertwine closely with the many primitive impulses on display. What are the possible connections Caldwell is trying to draw between the Walden’s economic status (which is low but could be higher, if not for Ty Ty’s quixotic behaviors), and the rampant physical desires that run amok.
Also worth noting is certain characterizations of Ty Ty and Will Thompson—characterizations which single them out from other characters. One of the clearest examples is how strongly and impulsively Darling Jill and Griselda (plus Rosamond, his wife) find him magnetic. They can barely keep their hands off him. A fellow like Pluto Swint—or even Buck, for that matter—seems to have little shot at being a true source of desire.
Last but not least, there’s the title itself to consider: God’s Little Acre. That comes from Ty Ty’s special plot of land, which, prior to a certain inkling that gold might be located on that specific spot, was always devoted to God: whatever grew there, he would give to the church. This special — and frequently moving — plot of land has relatively little significance in the story until the climax.
Putting the merits of the actual story aside, the acting in this film is stellar. Every one of these quirky characters is played with such conviction that, no matter how absurd they are, it’s still possible to develop a kind of sympathetic amusement as a viewer. From the plump and sweaty Pluto Swint (a bumbling character heretofore unmentioned, who is running for town Sheriff and has the hots for Darling Jill), to the wide-eyed and charismatically grinning countenance of Ty Ty, this sultry and sordid story manages to amount to something larger and more thought-provoking than you might at first expect.
There’s no question, though, that this is a very loony story. Yet it shouldn’t be dismissed because of that alone. Maybe it succeeds in saying something insightful, maybe it doesn’t. But it’s worth giving it a chance.
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God’s Little Acre. Directed by Anthony Mann. Kino Lorber, 1958. Accessed December 7, 2021.
Spectatio 