“Here’s a good stick to beat the lovely lady!”
A quote from a famous scene from John Ford’s The Quiet Man, one which sees John Wayne kicking and shoving Maureen O’Hara across several miles to demand an outstanding dowry from her stubborn brother in order that their marriage can proceed in peace and dear Maureen can stick the dinner on. Get the money or beat the shite out of the brother. Or first one and then the other. All the while the pair are followed by the simple folk from the village, laughing and placing bets and providing useful lovely-lady-beating apparatus. Through 2018 eyes it’s a misogynistic horror show, but any of the many that have seen and loved the film in the near-70 years since its release will tell you that it’s all better in context. Slightly.
Ask a viewer from outside the island about romantic films and Ireland and The Quiet Man is likely to be the most common answer, the film being seen as a timeless classic that showed the softer side of its director and gruff leading man, telling the story of an American returning to the idyllic Irish countryside of his youth to settle down, falling for a fiery local and going through an antiquated courtship process to win her heart and her brother’s blessing. The film’s appeal perhaps has much to do with the romantic depiction of Ireland itself that the film shows. A good setting goes a long way in a love story, and the beautiful scenery of County Mayo, green fields and thatched roofs and windy seasides lushly photographed by cinematographer Winston Hoch (who won an Oscar for his work), does much of the heavy lifting to convince the audience that what they’re seeing is all very romantic. When the backdrop is beautiful, everything else starts to look better too, even a loutish cowboy’s temper tantrums at his new bride and her thoughts and feelings. It’s ready-made tourist-bait, Wayne’s Sean Thornton comes over from America already in love with Ireland itself when the film starts, and though Maureen O’Hara is charming indeed, it’s Ireland that the film wants its viewers to fall for, an idealised Ireland shown by an American with Irish roots; Ford’s parents hailing from Galway. Of course, The Quiet Man has Irish admirers and its own merits, but it’s a postcard, both in its depiction of the island and in the relationship between Wayne and O’Hara. The character of Mary Kate Danaher is strong-willed, but ultimately pretty compliant, literally having dinner ready on the table by the time her brother and the Duke are done duking it out in the film’s famously prolonged fist fight. Like a lot of ‘fiery’ female characters, hers is something of a controlled flame. Within Ireland itself, do we respond to on-screen romances like this one?
A survey conducted by EliteSingles a couple of years ago named Pretty Woman as Ireland’s favourite romantic comedy, with other popular stables like Bridget Jones’ Diary and When Harry Met Sally and more making up the top ten. Love, Actually is another popular one that features on that list, a holiday staple that frequently finds it’s way back to the big screen when the Light House and others are looking for winter programming. It’s a selection box of a film, too much for some but loaded with enough storylines that at least one will tug at the heartstring of most viewers. It’s also a noted favourite of our dear Taoiseach (or at least his €5 million comms office). These films are of course idealised as well, it nearly always comes with the genre, but their appeal also comes from how easy it is for those watching to put themselves in the shoes of Julia, Renee and company. Needless to say, Leap Year, the patronising Amy Adams diddly-idle rom-com extraordinaire, didn’t appear on that list.
50 CinÉireann / February 2018
Love is in the Eir
Words: Luke Dunne