How could anyone watch this film and not sympathize with the Morgan family and the troubles it faces? Yes, it's only a movie and although its power is diluted a bit by the inevitable Hollywoodization of Llewelyn's novel, it boasts terrific performances by several actors who rose to the occasion, has a gorgeous score, and is full of imaginative touches and haunting images (so many of the scenes are burned into my memory) by a director at the top of his form. And there's just enough humor to bridge the tragedies that are inflicted on these people. I still delight in the scene where Rhys Williams (the only player who was actually Welsh) and Barry Fitzgerald give a boxing lesson to a sadistic schoolteacher (the only time John Ford flirts with cuteness), but the movie is full of great moments. I'm a cynical, jaded movie-viewer but, even if it sometimes verges on the operatic, I doubt that I would even want to meet someone who could dislike How Green Was My Valley.