Giant is undeniably a good bit like Texas. Although the lavish spending is not what the movie would lead you Easterners to believe, Giant's rendition is not entirely unjustified. Similarly its typical characters run according to the authentic mold--Texan males are much like Bick Benedict (Rock Hudson, strong and strongly ruled by Hoyle; their women, as in the movie, are in at least a 5-1 ratio of the vacant-minded to the thinking. The people do herd and smile and "honey-chile," even though not as obviously as in Giant. But after all, these characteristics can be found elsewhere in America. If the scenery is less barren in Ohio, the people are essentially the same, and so are the problems they face.

In Giant, Texans and Americans encounter racial prejudice, individualism, and, generally, the problem of deciding exactly what kind of life they want to live. Bick Benedict, the American male-and-father image, reaches two conclusions--that he likes the simple life and that nothing in his life has gone according to plan. Hollywood, with its obvious delight in the movie's extravaganza and its faith in the ultimate triumph of American idealism, succeeds thoroughly in giving him the lie. For the Giant thesis is that everything will turn out wealthy, and all right, in the end.

The most conspicuous example of this false and American idealism is in Giant's handling of the segregation issue, through the somewhat less flagrant problem of Texan prejudice against Mexican-Americans. The movie does depict the trend in Mexican-Texan relations correctly--only the old settlers do not understand the "messican;" the new generation accepts and even encourages him. But as usual, Hollywood has oversimplified, exaggerating the problem in order to come up with a strikingly optimistic conclusion. No Mexican-American would ever be ejected from any restaurant as in the movie. On the other hand, no son of a Benedict would ever marry a Mexican-American (unless she had money). Prejudice, of any kind, is much subtler, more covert, covered with glad manifestations--and is thus much more incurable than Hollywood can conceive.

It is typical of American thinking that the solution to an intricate social problem would be sought in a hamburger-joint brawl, or in a Civil War. Hollywood's implied linking of Mexican social status with Negro social status is specious. But the oversimplification is revealing, because it illustrates the crudity which characterizes the "American approach" to things.

Giant's handling of the individualist in society is equally revealing. Jett Rink, the lonely and withdrawn poor white who strikes oil to become the richest man in Texas, represents, if anything, the Outsider. He may also represent Class Conflict, or Sudden Wealth. The confusion is significant--Hollywood does not know what to do with Jett, the non-joiner, does not know to what to ascribe his "peculiarity." This uncertainty probably stems from the fact that America offers few existing outsider "types" to work from.

By supposing that alcohol and poverty explain Jett Rink, Hollywood unconsciously proves its point: Jett Rink cannot exist in America--he is not sure of himself, he has strange ways, he is not open. So Hollywood must wash him out. But the film's treatment of Jett is no worse than America's. America would marry Jett Rink, absorb him (and his money)--until he was domesticated and merely nouveau riche.

Hollywood's attempt to rid itself of Jett Rink by getting him drunk and rolling him under the table indicates its fear and misunderstanding of the individualist. But Jett's downfall also serves as a "justification" of the standing order. The Giant argument apparently is that individualists are kept poor for a good reason--they drink and they like to work off steam by hitting people. But Hollywood is not content with this--it insists on blaming the individualist for racial prejudice. Jett Rink, in his supreme poor form, calls Mrs. Bick Benedict III (a Mexican-American) a "squaw." Obviously Bick Benedict II (the standing order) would never do this, whether because of his sense of security or his fear of society. But Hollywood's idea that the individualist Jett Rink would be more racially prejudiced simply because he is not "other-directed" is amazing.

The crudities and misconceptions implied in Giant are undoubtedly not intentional. Largely they are the result of an attempt to include too many themes in one film. But, the technical causes aside, the movie as a whole has extremely interesting implications. With all its maternal triumphs and sugar-coated solutions, it is truly American.