How others will see it. An amiable and workmanlike film, The Farmer's Daughter provides good roles for several deserving Hollywood actors, which include not only the above, but also Charles Bickford as Cotten's butler, Harry Davenport as Barrymore's doctor, and Rhys Williams as a conniving painter.
One of Young's three burly brothers is played by James Arness, later of Gunsmoke fame. It's one of his first films, and he's billed as James Aurness.
Many viewers, especially those who have seen their share of classic movies, will roll their eyes at the story. Cotten, a three-time congressman, is unwed and lives with his mother. The opposition party picks Young, despite her unknown name and her blank slate of political or business experience. (Expected question: "What have you accomplished?" "Ya, I feed the chickens, ya!") The silliness progresses to a climax when Cotten joins Young's Herculean brothers in breaking and entering, assault and battery, and what not to recover the rascal Rhys Williams, who thereafter sings like a songbird for the character of Ms. Young.
How I felt about it. The cast is in fine form, and watching these actors earn their paycheck is the ultimate pleasure for The Farmer's Daughter. The story is the political version of A Star Is Born, only Cotten's career doesn't melt away unlike the unfortunate spouses in the various incarnations of that Hollywood chestnut.
The story is pure Hollywood, but it is interesting that the two rival parties aren't named. Young's views are Democratic, however: a higher minimum wage, public bread lines, milk for schoolchildren. Since Cotten's party hesitates on such socialistic positions, he apparently is a Republican. Why the Republican stronghold of the Barrymore/Cotten clan encourages the political ambitions of the Democrat-inspired Young is unclear, although politics does make strange bedfellows.
In short, The Farmer's Daughter is mildly engaging, but works better as actor's showcase than as satisfactory political comedy.