I have always felt a
strange mystical connection to Ireland that I've never quite been able
to explain and have often dreamed about Connemara, a place I have never
visited. Even when I was a boy, my favourite songs were not those on the
Hit Parade but ballads such as Danny Boy (okay, it's not Irish),
and the more obscure Eileen, Tumble Down Shack in Athlone,
and Rose of Arranmore. Given that connection, it is odd that I never
saw John Ford's The Quiet Man until this week, perhaps because I
thought John Wayne was a wooden and unconvincing actor and did not think
that the film would bring me any closer to the Ireland of my dreams.
Based on Frank Nugent's
adaptation of Maurice Walsh's Saturday Evening Post 1933 short story
Green Rushes, The Quiet Man was produced by Republic Pictures,
not a major studio at the time but the only one willing to take a chance
on a film about the Irish. They were well rewarded with a film that won
Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Cinematography
as well as four other nominations. Wayne plays Sean Thornton, a boxer from
Pittsburgh who gave up the ring after he accidentally killed a man in a
fight. The ex-prize fighter returns to Innisfree to buy the Irish cottage
in which he was born and sets his eyes on Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O'Hara),
a redhead with an infamous temper.
Mary Kate's older brother,
'Red' Will Danaher (Victor McLagen), a town bully refuses to consent to
his sister's marriage and it is left to alcoholic Matchmaker Michaleen
Flynn (Barry Fitzgerald) and the local pastor Father Lonergan (Ward Bond)
to trick Danaher into changing his mind. When brother Will realizes he's
been tricked, however, he refuses to pay the dowry that includes family
treasures, furniture, and 350 gold coins and Mary Kate refuses to consummate
the marriage. This leads to an inevitable confrontation with Thornton and
a barroom brawl that clocks in at nine minutes.
Though partly filmed in
Ireland with scenery that is verdant and beautiful, The Quiet Man
has an artificial quality to it that all the Barry Fitzgerald colloquialisms
do not change. Though it was a personal favourite of Ford and is all in
good fun, it is an overly romanticized film complete with Hollywood stars,
quaint Irish brogues, horses and carts, and balladeers ready to burst into
song at every tavern. The brogues, however, are not the only quaint items
in the film. There is also the macho attitude that makes it imperative
that a man has to physically confront a bully regardless of the odds.
It also brings the audience
to applause as they watch a man drag and kick his wife five miles by her
hair, then receive a stick by a villager with which to "beat yer lovely
wife with". I realize the scene is played for laughs and maybe Mary Kate
deserved such treatment for her materialistic obsessions, but it still
resonates poorly with this twenty-first century viewer. I think those with
a strong feeling for Ireland would be better off avoiding the blarney of
The Quiet Man and reading James Joyce, Dylan Thomas, or simply listening
to the exquisite Danny Boy, a song that never fails to bring tears
to my eyes.
GRADE: B
Howard
Schumann