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Becoming ‘One of Us’: Ethnic discrimination, community and American values in Sweet Land

2023; Wiley; Volume: 46; Issue: 3 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/jacc.13465

1542-734X

Robin E. Field,

Italian Fascism and Post-war Society

The American film industry has long featured stories about immigrants that establish and interrogate what it means to be American in the twentieth century. Early examples such as Charlie Chaplin's silent film The Immigrant (1917) portray the uncertainty, or even illusion, of the American Dream as the ubiquitous Immigrant arrives in New York City only to become “hungry and broke” in short order; and Chaplin's comedic antics serve to underscore, rather than downplay, the difficulties of life in America for the new immigrants (The Immigrant). Beloved dramas as diverse as I Remember Mama (1948), The Godfather (1972), and Avalon (1990)—featuring Norwegian, Italian, and Eastern European Jewish families, respectively—demonstrate how integral the extended family is to the perpetuation or disintegration of the cultural values of the homeland. Films in the twenty-first century question which immigrants are welcome in the United States, as seen in Gran Torino (2009) and A Better Life (2011); examine the potential for interethnic romantic relationships, as in Brooklyn (2015); and examine the challenges of American-born children in understanding the immigrant parents' culture and values, as in The Namesake (2006). While Gran Torino, A Better Life, and The Namesake are set in their contemporary moment, most of the aforementioned films turn to the early decades of the twentieth century to dramatize the tropes of the American dream, assimilation and cultural plurality, and shared values. Films provide an essential media for [Americans] to engage with their national past. In fact, historical films arguably rival academic histories as the primary way Americans connect with their history. Although history textbooks may provide factual knowledge about the American past, movies enable us to see substantive historical significance in the past in ways history textbooks cannot. Ali Selim depicts such discrimination in his film Sweet Land (2005), wherein a young German woman arriving in a rural Minnesota community in 1920 is ostracized—“She is not one of us,” the minister says bluntly—because of her “Germanness” (Sweet Land). The film reveals the forgotten past of anti-German sentiment in the early twentieth century, information that may allow white viewers of European descent to comprehend the pervasiveness of anti-immigrant discrimination in the United States and think more critically about their understanding of immigration laws, language acquisition, and cultural assimilation. With the advent of the First World War and the eventual entry of the United States into the global conflict, nearly eight million German Americans were pressured to end all German cultural practices (Siegel and Silverman 2017). Anti-German sentiment resulted in “the sanctioning of the German language and hostility toward public displays of German ethnicity” (Thompson 2015, 93). Sweet Land depicts the complications experienced by German Americans regarding “Americanization,” a movement during the First World War culminating in state and local legislation demanding immigrants and their American-born children speak English, learn American civics and values, and pledge allegiance to the United States (Wiley 1998, 230). While certain American immigration stories depict the arrival and acculturation process positively, Maris Thompson argues that the “Americanization stories” of first- and second-generation German immigrants early in the twentieth century are much more fraught because “the process of cultural adaptation was circumscribed by institutional forces of language sanction and accusations of disloyalty” (2015, 93–94). If “[f]ilmmakers narrate a past that is a history of the present,” as Rommel-Ruiz argues (2011, 4), Sweet Land reminds viewers that discrimination against immigrants has always been a part of our national narrative. The film portrays the difficulties experienced by the Norwegian immigrant, Olaf Torvik, in marrying the German immigrant, Inge Altenberg, in 1920; and bookending this love story is the Torvik grandson's dilemma decades later about whether to sell the family farm. Structuring his film nonchronologically—a frame narrative set in 2004 and 1968 bookends the primary story of Olaf and Inge's early struggles, set in 1920—allows Selim to connect the struggles of the immigrant generation to the lives of their children and grandchildren and to interrogate what values existed in the past and whether these values are similarly held in the present. Importantly, the struggles depicted in 1920—ethnic discrimination, fears about “undesirable” immigrants, and the rapacity of “big business”—are as relevant to twenty-first-century viewers as they were to the small farmers in Minnesota who people this film. Sweet Land is a richly nuanced depiction of the difficulties of immigration, anti-German prejudice in America following the First World War, and the values prized by families and communities both in generations past and today. Selim's depiction of ethnic discrimination in the early twentieth century underscores its historical specificity, in that white Americans of German descent do not experience such prejudice today; and his use of the frame narrative including the later generations of the Torvik family reminds viewers of the continued relevance of America's immigrant past to the present moment. Ultimately, Sweet Land illustrates the absurdity of prejudice and discrimination, a message that resonates long after the film ends. For white Americans unaccustomed to experiencing bigotry personally, this film offers an important reminder that ethnic discrimination—not only racial discrimination—occurs regularly for immigrants to the United States, whether they arrived one hundred years ago or today. Sweet Land begins and ends with a frame narrative that moves beyond the 1920 thread that comprises the majority of the film. The opening shots take place in 2004, when Inge is on her deathbed and her grandson Lars, then in his fifties, watches over her. Once Inge passes away, Lars inherits the land that she and Olaf farmed together for 48 years. Lars is offered $2.2 million for the property by a real estate developer who plans to build 1200 homes on the land. Standing in his grandparents' fields, Lars gazes across the landscape as the developer says, “It's what your grandparents would want” (Sweet Land). The rest of the frame narrative that begins the film—and indeed, the bulk of the film set in 1920—grapples with this assertion: Would Olaf and Inge have wanted Lars to sell their land to secure a financial windfall? The 2004 thread continues with Lars brooding over contracts at his kitchen table, and the 1968 thread begins as Lars remembers some foundational moments from his young adulthood that will help him make his decision about whether to sell the land. In 1968, his grandfather Olaf passes away, and Lars spends time with his grandmother Inge and her old friend, Alvin Frandsen, during the visitation in the Torvik farmhouse and after others left for the night. Inge insists that the coffin containing Olaf stay in the house one last night before the burial: “He belongs here with me,” she asserts when her son Einar, Lars's father, tells her that the funeral directors will be picking up the coffin (Sweet Land). Young Lars speaks with his grandmother, Inge. Old Inge remembers her past with Olaf. In the conclusion of the frame narrative at the end of the film, the younger Lars then asks of the photograph, “Can I keep this?” His grandmother replies, “Someday” (Sweet Land). Inge's voice is heard even as the frame narrative jumps back to 2004, where the older Lars mulls over the paperwork for the sale. The blurring of time here reminds viewers that the older Lars is remembering the past to inform his present decision. While the younger Lars's question is overtly about the photograph, its symbolic resonance is much deeper. “This” means the photograph, but also its representation of the past. The photograph depicts the rocky beginning of Inge's relationship with Olaf and her difficulty being accepted into this Norwegian immigrant community as a German. Yet, importantly, it also places Inge on the land and in front of the house, establishing her claim to this place as home. Young Lars's question in 1968—“Can I keep this?”—also symbolizes the land itself, infused with his family's history, making him the man he is in 2004. Whether the older Lars will “keep this” land segues to the 1920 story of Inge's arrival and her difficulties in being accepted by the Norwegian American community. This return to the past offers the older Lars, mulling over “what to do” in 2004, a way forward. His decision about whether to sell the family farm depends upon the lives of the previous generations, specifically how Olaf and Inge defied prejudice to remain true to their most cherished values about the bonds of family, friendship, and the community. Young Inge arrives in Becker County, Minnesota, in 1920. The reason the conversation occurs in Norwegian soon becomes clear. Inge speaks very little English and therefore has a difficult time understanding the conversations around her spoken in English. Selim's placement of the scene between Inge and Else creates empathy for Inge, as viewers understand the frustration she feels in not being able to communicate. This frustration reaches its peak in the scene at the Lutheran church where she is to be married to Olaf, just hours after she arrives in Becker County. Minister Sorrensen asks Inge a question she does not understand, and Olaf quickly translates it for her into Norwegian. Minister Sorrensen stops him, saying, “Only English in the church.” Inge then mutters under her breath in German, about which the minister asks, “Spricht Deutsch?” (Sweet Land). Relieved and smiling, Inge begins speaking German to the congregation, not realizing they are dismayed by this language. Minister Sorrensen hisses: “Nein! English only in the church” (Sweet Land). Only then does Inge realize that something is seriously wrong. In the 1920 thread, Selim depicts the profound anti-German sentiment that rocked the United States once the country entered the First World War. At the beginning of the twentieth century, eight million persons of German ancestry lived in the United States (Kirschbaum 2015, 40). As was common with many other immigrants in the nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries, German immigrants and their descendants practiced the language and customs of their heritage while also assimilating into American culture. Given that German Americans “were undoubtedly the most solidly established of all the minorities” in the United States at the beginning of the twentieth century (O'Connor 1968, 365), the surge of anti-German prejudice and discrimination that arose during the First World War is striking. German Americans felt so assured of their place in and their influence upon American society that they believed they could prevent the United States from entering the war (375). Yet once the country did enter the war in 1917, that reluctance by German Americans to engage in war against Germany was used against them as a sign of treason. Hence, they were forced to make a choice about retaining their cultural ties to Germany. As Richard O'Connor notes, “German-Americanism disappeared forever. It could no longer exist. In those febrile times, the German-American had to make his decision to be either German or American. With startlingly few exceptions, the choice was made instantly for Americanism” (413). Choosing to be an unhyphenated American may have been motivated by patriotism, but it was also necessary due to the anti-German hysteria that followed President Wilson's declaration of war: “Overnight, or so it seemed, everything German was stigmatized, sauerkraut converted into ‘Liberty Cabbage,’ the frankfurter into the hot dog, the windows of shops bearing German names smashed by ‘patriotic’ mobs, the bearers of German or German-sounding names hounded and often made the victim of mob violence” (412). Speaking German became a sign of subversion and disloyalty (Greve 2014, 132), and therefore most German Americans stopped speaking the language. Indeed, Erik Kirschbaum notes that “hardly anyone spoke German after World War I, and even fewer Americans could still speak any German after World War II. The language that was once heard on many street corners at the turn of the century was all but extinct within just a few years” (40). Within fifteen years after the First World War, German Americans had “shaken off every trace of the hyphen” to become “plain Americans with few or no German interests or sympathies” (Hawgood 1940, 302). Kirschbaum underscores the consequences of this cultural demise: “The sudden and near complete disappearance of what had been such a vibrant and proud immigrant community in the United States is one of the more phenomenal aspects of twentieth-century immigration and assimilation in the United States” 2015, (40). Given the hysteria surrounding German immigrants and their culture, German citizens clearly were not welcome in America in 1920. Thus, in Sweet Land, Inge's German surname evokes the consternation of Else Jorgensdatter, and her use of the German language dismays Minister Sorrensen and his congregation. The prevalence of this anti-German sentiment is further demonstrated in the scene at the train station, where Comrade Vik casually uses an ethnic slur to explains the politics of the farmers cooperative to Inge and Else. He notes that the group did not publicize their anti-war stance, lest people “think that you're a sympathizer or something worse—a lousy German” (Sweet Land). Moments later, Alvin Frandsen sneeringly recalls how the doctors at Ellis Island spoke German: “Working in the United States of America, you'd think they'd learn English!” (Sweet Land). Here again, the bias against Germans may elude viewers, as the film has not yet established that Inge is herself German. But, importantly, these two characters—Comrade Vik and Alvin Frandsen—are later portrayed as the most tolerant, open-minded men in the community, and even they casually impugn Germans, demonstrating how widespread this prejudice was in 1920. The scene in the Lutheran Church makes the discrimination that Inge will face in rural Minnesota very clear. Minister Sorrensen accusingly asks Olaf why he is trying to marry a German girl, and Olaf replies that he didn't know Inge was German. “We were at war with Germany!” the minister thunders as the congregation roils in consternation. He continues, “She is not one of us. We speak a common language, we have a common background, common culture. She is not one of us!” (Sweet Land). The minister announces that he will not marry the two, and he directs Olaf to visit Judge Sundby to get the proper paperwork. Minister Sorrensen continues his discrimination against Inge in a later scene at the Torvik farm. Despite the risk of his neighbors' disapproval, Olaf lets Inge stay at his house, while he sleeps in the barn to maintain propriety until they can be officially married. As the first attempt to get the paperwork from the Judge was unsuccessful, Minister Sorrensen offered to write to another minister in Osnabrück, Germany to secure the proper documentation for Inge's citizenship application. When Minister Sorrensen arrives to deliver these letters, he finds Inge teaching Olaf to waltz on their front porch. Later, over a cup of Inge's coffee, he grows even more concerned about the propriety of their relationship. Finally, he erupts in frustration: “You're dancing together. You're living together. God only knows what else…Your Germanness—it's a bad influence. Your Germanness—it's a disruption to my community. Your Germanness—it makes coffee that is too black!” (Sweet Land). Not only does he refuse to give the letters to Inge, but later he preaches a sermon based on 1 Corinthians about associating with “immoral people,” wherein he names Inge and Olaf directly, concluding, “Inge Altenberg and Olaf Torvik, they're not married. Now I find them dancing together, sharing the same quarters, perhaps the same bed. And she is making coffee for him in the morning. You cannot choose to live like that, and also to join with us” (Sweet Land). Minister Sorrensen banishes Inge and Olaf from the community because of Inge's “Germanness”; however, this “Germanness” is a catch-all for any markers of difference. The minister's objection to her coffee being “too black” is one such example: a simple culinary difference is elevated to an example of the wastefulness of Inge's habits in contrast to the ways of this Norwegian community. Minister Sorrensen, as a representative of the Church, uses his authority to block the marriage; Judge Sundby does the same as a representative of the State. In the first scene at the Judge's office, Olaf and Inge interact only with the Judge's clerk, who explains that the requirements for citizenship include a literacy test in English. He assumes Inge is also Norwegian until Olaf explains that she is German. The clerk hastens to the Judge's inner office to relate the situation, returning to announce that the Judge refuses to allow their marriage: “German nationals engage in prostitution, they encourage polygamy, they harbor dangerous political convictions.” The scene ends on an absurd note, with the clerk saying, “Well, I'll tell you what's in her favor. She's not Chinese” (Sweet Land). As a woman of northern European heritage, Inge can “pass” in America as an immigrant of Scandinavian descent, while Chinese immigrants faced discrimination via the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 and its renewals in 1892 and 1902. For Inge, the chance exists to become American, to shed her “Germanness,” in a way that Asian immigrants could not. Unlike “assimilable” white immigrants, non-white immigrants such as Chinese and Japanese Americans were Othered through racial and ethnic discrimination as permanently “unassimilable,” a sentiment that led to the internment of 120,000 persons of Japanese descent in February 1942 due to Executive Order 9066. The second scene involving Judge Sundby portrays him directly rejecting Inge's application for citizenship, ending her chance of legally marrying Olaf. The scene begins with a shot of a photograph of a young man in uniform, with the Judge's voice saying, “My eldest—lost in the war” (Sweet Land). This moment explains Judge Sundby's obstinacy even after Inge wins the approval of Minister Sorrensen and the community. Saying “I can't take the risk,” the Judge argues he has no evidence that Inge is not “a troublemaker” (Sweet Land). Despite Minister Sorrensen vouching for Inge's character, Judge Sundby sees only a German national before him—a citizen of the country whose soldiers killed his son—and uses his legal power to punish Inge for her “Germanness.” Even as the film establishes Inge's difference through her “Germanness,” it also underscores how this Norwegian immigrant community is already an ethnically mixed society. Minister Sorrensen is the most important example. While the first scene at the Lutheran Church establishes that he understands German, Minister Sorrensen later reveals that he speaks fluent German and knows a minister in Osnabrück. He likely has family ties to Germany that he has kept hidden from his Norwegian-American congregation. Another example of multiethnic heritage is Brownie Frandsen, Alvin Frandsen's wife. On Inge's first night at their home, Frandsen tries to establish commonalties with her by revealing that Brownie's grandmother was German. However, Brownie vehemently identifies as American, not German: “I'm an American. My mother's mother was German; my mother's father was Irish. My father had Ojibwa blood. But I—I'm an American.” When Inge asks “Deutsche?” to Frandsen, he puts up his hands, saying, “No, no. All clean. All clean. American!” (Sweet Land). Being German, in his mind, means being tainted. While this community is ostensibly “Norwegian” in its cultural heritage, its members also adamantly identify as Americans. This portrayal harkens back to the social concerns of the day, particularly the disdain for “hyphenated Americans” that occurred during and just after the First World War. This insistence upon identifying as American is demonstrated by Inge herself at the film's end. After Judge Sundby denies Inge's citizenship, she asserts to Minister Sorrensen, “Now, I am married. I am citizenship. In my heart, I believe” (Sweet Land). Inge takes control of her own identity to become an American wife. On their first night as a married couple (though legally unofficial), Inge makes dinner for Olaf. After taking a bite, he asks, “This is German food?” Inge replies, “No, just food.” Olaf then gestures to the apple pie on the table and says, “Brownie's pie.” (An earlier scene shows Brownie and Inge making an apple pie and then consuming the entire pie in one sitting.) Inge replies, “My pie.” This scene demonstrates Inge's move from being German—and foreign—to becoming American. Her cooking is not “German food,” but simply food; and the apple pie is as much hers as Brownie's. The frame narrative from 1968 continues this identification. Old Inge asks her teenaged grandson Lars whether he will be playing baseball that year. When he nods, she says, “I love those games” (Sweet Land). Apple pie and baseball—what could be more American? While Inge chooses to become American in many regards, it is important to note that Olaf does not demand that she shed her “Germanness” to be his wife. The 1920 story ends with a rescripting of two earlier scenes from when Inge first moved into Olaf's house. In the first scene, Olaf enters the house one morning after having slept in the barn and calls up the stairs to Inge, intending to come up. Inge, in a panic, yells, “Nein!” and a torrent of other German words, including “Splitterfasernackt!” Olaf comprehends Inge's command to not come up the stairs, but not the literal meaning of the latter word until she fumbles through the English translation: “Nah-ked? Naked?” Swallowing hard, Olaf repeats, “Naked?” He is torn between staying in the kitchen and sneaking upstairs for a glimpse of her body; ultimately, he succumbs to temptation and puts his foot on the stair. As a squeaky board signals his ascent, Inge yells “No!” and he turns around (Sweet Land). This humorous exchange occurs a second time just a few minutes later in the film. Olaf attempts to climb the stairs, and once again Inge yells, “Splitterfasernackt! Nein! Naked!” Olaf's casual reply—“Sorry!”—may have fooled Inge, but viewers are amused by his repeated attempt to catch a glimpse of her (Sweet Land). The final moments of the 1920 thread return to this scenario, but with a significant difference. On the first night of their (unofficial) marriage, Olaf prepares to head to the barn to sleep. He calls up some final words up the staircase: “Inge? Splitterfasernackt?” (Sweet Land). Interestingly, Olaf uses Inge's own German word, not English or Norwegian, to ask whether she is undressed. This use of German is significant, given the prejudice against the German language seen previously in this community and across America at the time. Olaf demonstrates his acceptance of Inge's “Germanness” and his willingness to adopt some of her cultural practices by remembering and using her own language. After Inge affirms she is undressed, Olaf turns to leave the house, rather than trying to peek up the stairs. Inge, however, is ready to be an American wife and speaks in English: “Come” (Sweet Land). The 1920 thread ends with Olaf ascending the staircase to begin his new life with Inge as his wife. By the time of Olaf's funeral in 1968, Inge has been fully embraced by the community, for Minister Thorwald's eulogy states: “We remember his great love for Inge, his wife of forty-eight years” (Sweet Land). Regardless of the legality of their union in 1920, Inge and Olaf are celebrated as husband and wife from that moment forward. The film affirms that Inge is indeed “one of us,” an American and an integral part of the Becker County community. The beginning of the 1968 thread features Minister Thorwald eulogizing Olaf: “Olaf Torvik was a caring, giving man…He came from Norway in 1910 and homesteaded his farm the next year. He cleared the land with the resolution of a pioneer. A true settler in the best sense of the word, creating civilization out of the wilderness” (Sweet Land). While Olaf was clearly a skilled farmer for nearly six decades, what viewers should take from this eulogy—“creating civilization out of the wilderness”—is how Olaf acted upon the values he believed in. Although Olaf and Inge are shunned by the community, Olaf risks his entire livelihood to help his friend, Alvin Frandsen, to keep his farm. Indeed, Olaf's selflessness inspires others to step up to preserve the community as a whole. While Inge's “Germanness” is the primary obstacle she and Olaf must overcome in 1920, the film also depicts how the farming community of Becker County is under attack by businessmen and the capitalist economic system. 1920 marked the beginning of difficult times for Midwestern farmers. In the 1910s, the prices of cash crops such as corn and wheat had increased significantly (Alston 1983, 893). In fact, “[d]uring World War I, the government guaranteed farmers high prices for their crops and livestock. Farmers put more acres in cultivation and increased the size of their herds. They borrowed money from local banks to buy more land and machinery” (“The Great Depression”). In 1920 the government ended its price guarantees for farmers (“The Great Depression”), and by July 1920 prices of corn, wheat, and other cash crops plummeted (Alston 1983, 890). Because these Midwestern farms were still producing at a great rate, the surplus yield led to a decrease in value for the crops and the land itself (Alston 891). Farmers could not repay their loans; even selling their now-devalued land did not raise the capital to repay their mortgages (“The Great Depression”). Lee J. Alston notes that “[i]n many states thousands of farmers each year suffered foreclosure. In the more agricultural states the odds were such that most farmers had a relative, friend, or neighbor who had lost a farm” in the period of 1926–1940 (887). Under such conditions, hard work was of little consequence, as a successful harvest did not guarantee farmers could pay their bills. The result was an economic and intellectual crisis: “The protracted distress in agriculture led farmers more than ever before to question the merits of the capitalist system” (Alston 1983, 885). Banker Harmo scoffs at Olaf's farming philosophy. Olaf bids on his friend Frandsen's farm at the auction. The true moment of crisis occurs when Olaf admits to Harmo he does not have the money to pay for Frandsen's farm. Incredulous, Harmo asks, “Why did you do this then?” Olaf replies simply, “I just did it” (Sweet Land). Olaf cannot explain his actions or motivations; he simply knows that it was the right thing to do. Harmo then revels in the practical advantage he has gained: If Olaf does not pay for Frandsen's farm in twenty-four hours, Harmo will own both Frandsen's and Olaf's farms. Grinning, Harmo offers him a mortgage, but Olaf refuses: “Banking and farming don't mix” (Sweet Land). Faced with the imminent loss of his own property, Olaf still refuses to enter the predatory banking system that inevitably hurts the small farmers rather than helping them. Olaf's actions bring him and Inge even closer together. The next day they complete their harvest and then walk across their land, newly denuded of crops. Olaf takes Inge's hand, the first moment of physical intimacy the two have shared, despite living together for months. Later, waiting for Harmo to come to take possession of the property, they are surprised to find Minister Sorrensen and the other farmers at the door, not Harmo and his henchmen. Having witnessed Olaf's willingness to risk his entire livelihood to help his friend, the community realizes that Olaf and Inge are not the “immoral people” who threaten their values. Banker Harmo and the other businessmen ready to profit from the misfortunes of small farmers must be combated instead. One farmer hands Olaf a large stack of money, stating that everyone contributed. In an ethical socialist, rather than capitalist, fashion, the community works for the best interest of everyone, rather than leaving each man for himself. Minister Sorrensen then gives Inge the letters for her citizenship application, ostensibly welcoming her as a member of their community. His only words to her, however, are, “I still think your coffee is a little black” (Sweet Land). Interestingly, Minister Sorrensen continues to acknowledge Inge's difference, but now implies that such difference will be accepted by the community. Yet, as noted previously, the approval of the community, along with the letters from Osnabrück, do not convince Judge Sundby to grant Inge citizenship. Afterward, the couple tells Minister Sorrensen that he should consider them married since the legal channels are exhausted. Knowing that Inge and Olaf are valuable members of the community, and that the judge's prejudice prevents them from legally marrying, he accepts their marriage of the heart, saying, “See you both on Sunday” (Sweet Land). Although the law forbids their marriage, and the Church condones unmarried couples living together, the Torvik marriage is recognized by those who matter most: the community. The values espoused by Olaf and Inge return them to the community and build the foundation for their successful marriage and large and loving family. Decades later, these values guide the decisions of their grandson as well. The elderly Frandsen converses with Inge and Lars. In a fitting segue, dirt then falls onto another coffin: Inge's. The film's final scene returns to 2004 to show Lars, his wife, and their daughter burying Inge at the same spot in the fields of the Torvik farm. Just previously, the frame narrative depicts the middle-aged Lars saying to his wife, “I can't.” Echoing Inge's words in 1920 and 1968, Lars's wife says with pride and compassion, “I know” (Sweet Land). Lars cannot—will not—sell his grandparents' farm for financial gain. To do so would betray his grandparents' values and the principles by which they lived their lives. Instead, Lars affirms his commitment to the land and his fealty to his grandparents' values by burying his grandmother on the land as well. The Torvik family's beginnings and the flourishing of its later generations are rooted in their land, as emphasized when Lars's daughter Mae finds a rock shaped like a heart in the soil in the final scene. The heart of the Torvik family is in their land. The question that the teenaged Lars asked his grandmother in 1968—“Can I keep this?”—is finally answered in 2004. Originally, Lars asked to keep the photograph of Inge standing in front of the house, to which she answered, “Someday.” Yet the question not only relates to the photograph, but also to the farm itself. In 2004, that day comes to pass: Lars inherits the Torvik farm and decides to keep it. He also inherits the photograph and all its implications about the past. Lars is the keeper of the family traditions and will pass the family memories to his own daughter. Sweet Land offers a thought-provoking meditation upon the importance of the immigrant past to the American-born generations that follow. The 1920 story about Inge and Olaf certainly could have stood alone as a beautiful film about the struggles of immigrant farmers in the Midwest, but the 1968 and 2004 frame narratives are masterfully interwoven with the 1920 story to underscore the relevance of the past to the present. By focusing upon the third generation, as represented by Lars, and imagining the future of the Torvik family through Lars's daughter Mae, Sweet Land bypasses the typical generational conflicts seen in immigrant films where the American-born children resist the cultural mandates of their immigrant parents. Instead, Sweet Land uses its turn to the past to emphasize the connection between the immigrant generation and the third and fourth generations—and beyond. This multi-generational depiction of the immigrant past is unique to the genre, particularly in its insistence about the importance of cultural memory for Americans who are several generations removed from their ancestral roots and who consequently may downplay the significance of their cultural histories. As Terrence G. Wiley notes of German Americans, “third- and fourth-generation descendants have come to assume that their grandparents and great-grandparents all willingly deserted their ancestral tongues and cultures” (1998, 236). Sweet Land asks viewers to contemplate which values, cultures, and people were under scrutiny a century previously and to make connections to contemporary debates about which immigrants are welcome in America and what values viewers share today. By engendering sympathy for an immigrant of a maligned ethnic group from a century ago, the film implicitly asks viewers to imagine the lives of today's immigrants, many of whom face bigotry and discrimination of the sort that the fictional Inge Altenberg experienced. The film's title is a nod to the traditional patriotic hymn “My Country, ’Tis of Thee”—named “America” by its lyricist Samuel Francis Smith—which dubs the United States a “sweet land of liberty.” It is for us to decide today whether “liberty and justice for all” is merely a platitude or, instead, a value to embrace and assure for every person living in America.