Of all the Ways in Which “The Grapes of Wrath” is Offensive, Nothing is More Offensive than Equating It with the Film “Boyhood” (Part II of II)

(Continued from Part I)

The only character I cared about in the “Grapes of Wrath”–and I use the word “care” quite loosely here–was the grandmother. In a book that had no sense of direction–from the beginning, through the middle and right to the end–the demise of the grandmother was the one certainty. Because grandma’s death was quite obviously going to be the sole action in the book, the only emotion I had while reading the novel was to root for her long, painful death. Steinbeck deprived me of even that joy, because grandma’s death arrives nowhere close to the end.

It’s been suggested that my hatred of the novel “The Grapes of Wrath” is irreconcilable with my adulation for the movie “Boyhood” (2014), based on the theory, I suppose, that in both “The Grapes of Wrath” and “Boyhood,” nothing happens.

Of all the offensive things about “The Grapes of Wrath”, nothing is more offensive than equating it with “Boyhood.”

“Boyhood” is a triumph in artistic vision (as explained in my review). That alone distinguishes it from “The Grapes of Wrath,” which has no semblance of art or vision.

But more substantively, they don’t compare in depth.

“The Grapes of Wrath” is about the Great Depression. The Great Depression isn’t all that complicated. In fact, it’s so simple that it can be summarized in one sentence: “The Great Depression sucked, in really miserable ways.”

“Boyhood”, on the other hand, is about life, which is quite complicated. It’s so complicated that it can’t be fully captured in a sentence, or a book, or even in a movie. The film is remarkable because it comes as close as possible in achieving the impossible.

Anyone who thinks that “The Grapes of Wrath” is somehow akin to “Boyhood,” either in its goodness or in its badness, has lost all sense of taste. That mere suggestion is an offense to the great achievements in art that humanity has to offer.