I've seen Lon Chaney Jr. in close to a couple dozen movie and television roles, and except for his signature 'Wolf Man' from 1941, I never thought he was that good an actor. But WOW!, he gives a stunningly brilliant performance as the mentally challenged Lennie in this movie adaptation of John Steinbeck's classic novel. Not only in his mannerisms, but in the disciplined cadence of his speech to affect a truly unique character in film. As soon as I heard it, I hearkened back to my childhood watching those old Warner Brothers cartoons, and even though I can't remember which one it was, I can clearly hear in my mind the words "Which way did he go George, which way did he go?" Referring of course (in the picture, not the cartoon), to Lennie's overseer and traveling companion. Burgess Meredith is completely natural as Lennie's buddy George, with the patience of a saint and a heart as good as gold.<br /><br />But George and Lennie are just the beginning. You would be hard pressed to find a film of any era to be so rich in characters, each of which evokes such a strong response from the viewer. I marveled at the performance of Roman Bohnen as Candy; the scene in which his old sheep dog was led away is one of the most uncomfortable moments I've ever experienced in pictures. I've yet to see Bob Steele in any of his Westerns where he comes across as such a dominant character, even when he's portraying a villain as he does here. Did you catch the neat way he mounted his horse right after first meeting George and Lennie? - it was so smooth that it takes a few seconds to realize what he just did.<br /><br />The biggest surprise for me while watching was how the picture confronted racism head on in the bunkhouse scene with Crooks (Leigh Whipper), talking about what it means to be a black man. Just the way it's done, you never get the impression he's using the so called 'race card', to evoke sympathy. He simply conveys how being black has made him a lonely man. That sense of isolation is further reinforced by the characters of George and Curly's wife Mae, all of whom just need someone to talk to.<br /><br />Having read the book so long ago, I don't remember the set up for the finale, but that might be the only thing in the picture that could have been handled better. When George showed the stolen gun to Slim (Charles Bickford), it telegraphed the ending for those viewers unfamiliar with the novel. It would have been much more powerful for George to reveal his intent when he finally finds Lennie at the pre-arranged meeting place in the swamp. It also bothered me that although Slim was complicit in George's act (by not trying to stop him), he stopped the sheriff to point out George.<br /><br />Now that I think about it some more, Slim might have been the most conflicted character in the story, straddling both sides of an issue on many levels. He was a threat to Curly, but never openly challenged him. He didn't approve of Carlson (Granville Bates) meddling with Candy over his sheep dog, but was the voice that convinced Candy that putting the dog to rest was the right thing to do. There's a lot more than meets the eye with Slim's character, and his presence in the film nagged me throughout; maybe that was Steinbeck's intent.<br /><br />One of the neat things about catching this picture the other night on Turner Classics was the commentary by host Robert Osborne following the film. He explained an intricate detail about the movie bill that Curly's wife had in her hand about mid way in the story. One of the films on the card was "Zenobia", released the same year as this picture, and like this one, was also produced by Hal Roach. Even seventy years ago, film makers found unique ways to promote their own properties.