The Proud Valley UK | 1940 | 76 minutes Credits In Brief Director Penrose Tennyson Paul Robeson plays a discharged American sailor who winds up in a Welsh Screenplay Alfredda Brilliant, Louis Golding, mining village where he proves an asset to both the local choir and at the Jack Jones, Roland Pertwee, Pen coal face. Unfortunately a disaster closes the mine, until the coming of the Tennyson (story "David Goliath" by Second World War necessitates that it be re-opened – a task that entails Herbert Marshall) someone undertaking what basically amounts to a suicide mission. Music Ernest Irving Photography Roy Kellino, Glen MacWilliams Cast David Goliath Paul Robeson Dick Parry Edward Chapman Simon Lack Simon Lack Mrs. Parry Rachel Thomas “The artist must take sides. He must elect to fight for freedom or slavery. I have made my choice. I had no alternative.” - Paul Robeson Part of a loose movement of films depicting the difficulties facing communities and workers around the Welsh coal mining industry, THE PROUD VALLEY is perhaps the most immediate and rousingly polemic of them all. This is not least due to the involvement of Paul Robeson, a singer, actor and star of stage and screen, already famous by the time of production of THE PROUD VALLEY in 1939. The coal industry was a key component of the industrial revolution, and for Wales it was an essential part of its economic development. By 1913, Cardiff, the Welsh capitol, had become the largest exporter of coal in the world. In fact, in some form or other, mining had long secured Wales’ economic viability, since before the Roman conquest of Wales in AD 78. By the 19th century it had established itself as a true powerhouse. Unfortunately, the industry also relied on child labor, awful working conditions, health risks and worse, leading to prolonged working-class unrest, including a number of uprisings throughout the 19th century. While the Mines and Collieries Act 1842 emerged from the unrest, explicitly prohibiting female labor and labor by children under 10, it was largely ignored, and by the time Robeson arrived in the Rhondda valley, the situation had changed little in nearly a century. The groundwork for Robeson’s participation in the Welsh miners’ struggle, providing the memorable foundation for THE PROUD VALLEY, had been laid in the mid-1920s, as the UK was gripped by a general strike over declining pay and extended workdays for British miners. The epicentre of the British coal industry, Wales was hit particularly hard by the crisis. Conditions continued to decline as the Great Depression took hold, compounded further by lack of public support, poor health conditions and safety concerns. Between 1844 and 1909, over 1000 workers had died in the Rhondda alone, and things hadn’t improved much by 1938, the year in which THE PROUD VALLEY is set. In 1928, Robeson was performing in London’s West End, in a production of Show Boat. An essential component of his mythology, Robeson’s performance garnered great acclaim and critical attention from white audiences, while drawing the ire of black critics, understandably offended by the use of the N-word throughout the show. Nevertheless, Show Boat was the performance that featured the iconic, career-making performance of “Ol’ Man River”, generally considered to be the definitive version of the song. Robeson found himself the darling of the White British establishment, receiving a Royal summons to perform for King Alfonso XIII of Spain in the Royal Command Performance at Buckingham Palace, and forging friendships among parliamentarians and the aristocracy. Robeson and his wife, Essie, purchased a house in London, and were to remain in the UK for nearly 10 years. During his time in Show Boat, Robeson met with a group of Welsh Miners, who had marched to London to protest and raise awareness of the miners’ struggles in South Wales, a situation mirrored in THE PROUD VALLEY. The encounter resonated with Robeson, and as his star continued to rise, his political awakening matured into strident activism and advocacy on behalf of the miners and other groups involved in the struggle. Although he now called London home, Robeson continued to work in film and theater, including return visits to the US. In 1933 he starred in the US production of THE EMPEROR JONES, from a play by Eugene O’Neill. While the film was well received, particularly Robeson’s performance, it fell foul of a plethora of black male stereotypes, not to mention, again, excessive use of the N-word (to the Mines, Miners and Mining point where censors excised the word from prints intended for black audiences). Robeson found the experience to be an instructive one, and, at his wife Essie’s coaching, found nuance in a character that was essentially another stereotype. In a pre-civil rights landscape, THE EMPEROR JONES can still be seen as a breakthrough; Robeson’s casting made him the first African American lead in a US sound film. It wouldn’t happen again for another two decades. Robeson’s return to the UK brought controversy when he announced to the press his decision to reject performances in French, German or Italian as “having nothing in common with the history of (his) slave ancestors”, and criticizing the “inferiority complex” of fellow African Americans. A period of travel followed, including to Berlin - where he witnessed Nazi ideology first hand - and, at the invitation of Sergei Eisenstein, a visit to the USSR. There, he delivered a speech to Soviet Cinematographers at the House of Cinema (in Russian), and performed songs for his hosts, including, naturally, “Ol’ Man River". Next up was SANDERS OF THE RIVER (1935), a film by the legendary Zoltan and Alexander Korda. For Robeson, the film was a valuable personal experience, meeting with the film’s 400 African actors who were living in the UK (including Wales), and apparently discovering his ancestry as a descendant of the Nigerian Igbo tribe. However, while the film went on to launch Robeson to stardom, his role required him to once again conform to stereotype, this time as the “noble savage”, contrary to assurances made to him by the Kordas. Still, Robeson was able to largely transcend the cliché and crass imperialist exoticism to deliver a subtle, layered performance under the circumstances. In any event, audiences turned out en masse, and the film was a big hit in the UK. While the film satisfied the easy aspirations of the British colonial imperative, Robeson was ultimately able to observe that “if in Britain there were those who lived by plundering the colonial peoples, there were also the many millions who earned their bread by honest toil.” And so to Robeson’s experience in Wales. Following SANDERS, the now in-demand actor worked consistently, delivering SHOW BOAT, THE SONG OF FREEDOM, BIG FELLA, KING SOLOMON’S MINES and JERICHO in quick succession. A film hiatus followed, allowing Robeson to pursue stage work. More importantly, throughout this period, Robeson had returned repeatedly to the UK, developing his relationship with the people of South Wales. He sang in the Welsh towns of Cardiff, Neath and Swansea, culminating in a 1938 performance in Mountain Ash, with an audience of 7000, to commemorate the loss of 33 Welshmen in the Spanish Civil War. Robeson’s artistic and political maturation was ripe for the circumstances that became the project known initially as DAVID GOLIATH, the foundation for THE PROUD VALLEY. The original story was written by Herbert Marshall, a man with impeccable Leftist credentials. A communist and producer, Marshall was educated in Moscow, where he learned Theatre, direction, and even translated works by Sergei Eisenstein. In London, Marshall had directed Robeson in a play called A Plant in the Sun under the auspices of the Leftist Unity Theater, and wanted to create a vehicle for the actor. With his wife (the magnificently monikered Alfredda Brilliant), Marshall worked up a film treatment that was promptly rejected. Shortly after that, Marshall himself was stripped of his Associate Producer credit on the project. Marshall claimed that producer Sergei Nolbandov was at least partly responsible for his ousting, and that producer Michael Balcon had reneged on his assurance of a two-film deal for Marshall if he bowed out of THE PROUD VALLEY. Balcon, of course, was and is a famously contentious, albeit key character in the British film pantheon - a recent Sight & Sound article describes him as a “middlebrow demagogue”. His account of the film’s inception claims that, contrary to other reports, THE PROUD VALLEY was an idea born on a train ride that only later found the perfect delivery method in Marshall and Brilliant. Whoever came up with the idea, the script was finally developed from the Marshall-Brilliant treatment into a script by ex-miner Jack Jones (who appears in the film), left-wing novelist Louis Golding, and the eventual director, Pen Tennyson, hashed out in a series of discussions along with associate producer Nolbandov. The final film credits Marshall and Brilliant with the story, and Tennyson, Jones and Golding with the screenplay. Considering the imbroglio surrounding the writing process, it’s remarkable anything coherent emerged at all. Penrose “Pen” Tennyson is a curious, fascinating character in film history. He had joined the project at Balcon’s behest, impressed by his helming of THERE AIN’T NO JUSTICE the preceding year, from a script Mines, Miners and Mining co-written by Nolbandov. At the time of that film, Tennyson was the youngest feature filmmaker in the country, barely into his mid-20s. As production on THE PROUD VALLEY began, the young director had cut his teeth as assistant director to Alfred Hitchcock, including THE MAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (when he was just 22), and THE 39 STEPS.