James Cromwell had been working in Hollywood

James Cromwell had been working in Hollywood for decades before he took on the role of Farmer Hoggett in Babe (1995). By then, his career had fallen into a frustrating pattern. He was typecast as a character actor, shuttled into supporting roles that drew little recognition. By the mid-1990s, he admitted privately to friends that he was worn down. He had been passed over for bigger parts, watched younger actors take leads, and felt that his work, no matter how sincere, often went unnoticed. When he accepted Babe, he thought of it almost as a last gamble. If this film didn’t connect, he was ready to step away from acting altogether.
The production did little to ease his doubts. Cromwell spent long days on set in Australia, much of the time reacting silently to an animated pig and carefully trained animal performances. His dialogue was minimal, which made him worry even more. He feared audiences wouldn’t even notice Farmer Hoggett, that he would simply fade into the background of a children’s story. In his own words, he thought the movie might be “a little nothing.”
But director Chris Noonan encouraged Cromwell to trust silence, to let stillness carry weight. Farmer Hoggett, he explained, wasn’t meant to dominate the story but to anchor it. Cromwell leaned into that restraint, shaping a quiet dignity that stood in contrast to the noisy, chaotic energy of talking animals. What he thought was invisible became essential.
When Babe premiered, Cromwell’s doubts vanished almost overnight. The film became a worldwide hit, praised for its warmth and originality. What surprised him most was how often people mentioned his performance—not the special effects, not just the clever animals, but the gentle, grounding presence of Farmer Hoggett. His tenderness in the famous “If I Had Words” scene became one of the film’s most unforgettable moments.
The recognition went far beyond anything Cromwell expected. In 1996, he earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor. For someone who had been on the verge of quitting, the nomination stunned him. He later admitted that the honor and the opportunities that followed were nothing short of a rescue. Casting directors who had once overlooked him now took notice. Cromwell said openly that Babe had saved his career at its weakest point.
In the years after, he embraced roles that showed his range and strength. He played a corrupt police captain in L.A. Confidential (1997), a cruel prison warden in The Green Mile (1999), and the visionary Dr. Zefram Cochrane in Star Trek: First Contact (1996). Each role reflected a renewed confidence, built on the validation Babe had given him.
Cromwell has often spoken about how close he came to walking away before Babe. For him, the movie was more than a children’s tale about a pig who wanted to herd sheep—it was a story of perseverance that mirrored his own life. At a moment when he felt invisible, the world finally saw him. In his words, the role came “like a gift.” What he thought might be his farewell became the turning point of his career.
His story carries a simple but powerful lesson: sometimes a single, unexpected role can transform years of doubt into recognition. Even the smallest part can change everything