| Collector's Corner March 2003
 The Quiet Man
- Starring: John Wayne,
Maureen O’Hara, Barry Fitzgerald, Ward Bond, Victor McLaglen,
Mildred Natwick, Arthur Shields
- Directed by: John Ford
- Theatrical release: 1952
- DVD release: 2002
- Video: Academy Ratio
- Sound: Dolby Digital 2.0 mono
- Released by: Artisan Entertainment
He's a nice, quiet, peace-lovin'
man come home to Ireland to forget his troubles.
-- Michaeleen Flynn describing Sean Thornton
Sean Thornton (John Wayne) has just returned to Ireland
from the United States. He’s running from something painful in his past and wants to
be close to the old family place in Inisfree. He hires Michaeleen Flynn (Barry
Fitzgerald), the town cabbie, matchmaker, and bookmaker to take him from the train
station. On the way, Sean sees the little thatch cottage known as White O’ Morn, home
of seven generations of Thorntons. He reminisces about his sainted mother and her love of
Inisfree and their ancestral home. Michaeleen tells him White O’ Morn is now owned by
the Widow Tillane (Mildred Natwick). Sean says he’s going to buy the place, though
Michaeleen gives him little hope that the widow will sell.
Closer to town, Sean gets off the buggie and wanders into
the woods. In one of the prettiest scenes in film, the idyllic landscape and the gently
ambling sheep mesmerize Sean, when a redheaded vision of loveliness appears. Sean is
instantly besotted. The next morning, he sees her at Mass. Michaeleen tells Sean that her
name is Mary Kate Danaher (Maureen O’Hara), but warns him away.
Sean: Why, what's the matter? She isn't
married or anything, is she?
Michaeleen: Married? Married? That one? No, not likely, and her
with her freckles and her temper. Oh, that red head of hers is no lie. Still, a man might
put up with that, but not with her lack of a fortune.
While Sean is offering to buy White O’ Morn from Widow
Tillane, squire Will Danaher (Victor McLaglen) makes a counteroffer. When the widow sells
it to Sean, the squire vows revenge. Their relationship gets worse, until Danaher tries to
start a fight in Cohan’s Bar. Father Lonergan (Ward Bond) comes to the rescue, and
makes the two men shake hands. But the squire warns Sean to stay off his property and away
from his sister. Making an enemy in a small town is problematic enough, but the squire
turns out to be Mary Kate’s brother, and he has to give permission for Sean to court
Mary Kate.
The people of Inisfree conspire to get Sean and Mary Kate
together, but the squire refuses her dowry if she marries Sean. She demands that Sean
fight her brother to get her dowry. Sean misunderstands Mary Kate’s need, thinking
her greedy. Truthfully, she only wants what is rightfully hers. She thinks Sean won’t
fight because he doesn’t love her. The townsfolk think him a coward. The truth is,
something far more compelling is keeping him from fighting.
By the way, this is a comedy.
John Ford, John Wayne, and Maureen O’Hara had agreed
in 1944 to make The Quiet Man, but Ford couldn’t find any producers interested
in giving it a shot. Most considered it a silly Irish love story, only fit for the art
houses and guaranteed to lose money. From 1944 until 1951, Ford tried to raise the money
to make the film. Why did he care so much? This was to be Ford’s most personal film,
and the film that showed the world what he valued and cared about; it's as close to a
soul-baring statement as the man would ever make. But no one wanted it.
Wayne pitched the idea to Herb Yates, the head at Republic
Pictures. Yates also thought it would lose money, but offered to make it under the
condition that Ford, Wayne, and O’Hara would make a Western for him (that film was Rio
Grande) to cover the costs of The Quiet Man. Ford needed a new home for his
Argosy Pictures company, and even though Republic was low on his list, he took their offer
when he couldn’t find others. After they made Rio Grande, Yates was still
trying to kill The Quiet Man. He started by lowballing Ford on the budget, offering
$1.2 million. Ford wanted $1.8 million, but they finally compromised at $1.5 million (Ford
brought The Quiet Man in under budget by $17,491 after Wayne and O’Hara
offered to cut their normal salaries).
Yates was constantly causing disruptions. He warned Wayne
that the film would ruin his career. He told Winton Hoch that he was using too much green
in the picture (Hoch won the Academy Award for his cinematography in The Quiet Man).
Yates tried to change the title to The Prize Fighter and the Colleen. By the end of
the filming in Ireland, things had gotten so bad that Bond (Father Lonergan) crawled up
one of the walls and chalked in a big "Fuck Herb Yates!"
When the final cut arrived, Yates refused to release the
picture as Ford had delivered it at 129 minutes. He demanded that Ford cut it to less than
120 minutes. Ford’s response will tell you a lot about the man. Ford provided the cut
film for a Hollywood hotshot preview audience at a private screening. Everyone was
enjoying it, and when it was in the middle of the culminating scene, the screen went
blank. Yates jumped up and asked what the hell had happened. Ford told him that he had
simply cut the last nine minutes out. No ending! Yates relented and the film was
eventually released at 129 minutes. It went on to be one of Republic’s most
profitable films ever, and won Ford his fourth Best Director Academy Award.
No other director has ever won as many awards as Ford.
Ingmar Bergman called John Ford the greatest director who ever lived. Orson Welles watched
Stagecoach 40 times before making Citizen Kane, and told anyone who
would listen that he was influenced principally by the classic filmmakers, "John
Ford, John Ford, and John Ford." Modern directors like Paul Schrader, John Milius,
Wim Wenders, George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, and Martin Scorsese all praise Ford. What is
it they love? And why do the film schools and auteurists constantly leave Ford out? I
think it’s because the beauty of a Ford film is so elusive to describe. Thankfully,
it’s not hard to see.
The first time you watch The Quiet Man, the
painterly beauty of each frame will jump out at you. Watch how Ford sets up the
introduction of Mary Kate (chapter 4), the way he frames her pretty red hair and scarlet
skirt against the green backdrop of the Irish countryside. Notice as she’s walking
away how he keeps the camera still, so that she appears to be moving down instead of out.
In chapter 25, the pictures are as pretty as a Vermeer. The scene also shows what a great
storyteller Ford was. Sean and Mary Kate reconcile in a moving moment of surrender for
both. As so often happens with loving couples, the words are secondary. The actions,
movements, and touching tell the whole story. O’Hara said, "Actually, you could
look at a John Ford film almost with no dialogue, and you’d know what it was all
about." Chapter 25 offers proof.
As with all Ford films, try to concentrate on the
actors’ eyes. In chapter 24, when Sean goes to the preacher for a talk, note the way
Wayne is developing his character with careful moves and using his eyes to tell the story.
In the following chapter, spy on the intimacy obvious in their eyes. Ford picked his
actors based on their professionalism, their ability to do a scene in one take, and their
ability to put up with his gruff actions. But more than anything, he chose them for the
expressiveness of their eyes.
John Wayne, in Film Comment in 1972, called his
role, "A goddam hard script. For nine reels I was just playing a straight man to
those wonderful characters, and that’s really hard." It may have been hard, but
Wayne pulls off one of his best acting jobs ever. Wayne is often referred to as
Ford’s idealized version of himself. Whenever Ford invested a protagonist with
Ford-isms, it was Wayne. Of all their 21 films together, The Quiet Man probably
carries the theme the furthest. Ford even gave Wayne's character his own name. Ford’s
real name was Sean (Sean Aloysius Kilmartin O'Feeny).
The rest of the cast is first-rate. O’Hara, a Dublin
native, provided fire and a barely cloaked sensuality. When Sean pops out of the bedroom
with a silly grin on his face after finally consummating their marriage, you can
understand why O’Hara’s only remark (on the commentary track) is a sly,
"Satisfied man." Fitzgerald, as Michaeleen Flynn, steals every scene he is in.
No director has given us a richer group of weird and wonderful second-stringers than Ford,
and the best of all of them was Fitzgerald in The Quiet Man.
The Quiet Man is currently available on two DVDs,
both distributed by Artisan. One costs $24.98 and says "The John Wayne
Collection" at the top. Don’t buy it. The other version costs $19.98 and says
"Collector’s Edition DVD" at the top. It is the one to get. Both versions
have the same remastered picture and the same "making of" documentary, but the
Collector’s Edition has clearer sound and an abundance of wonderful special features.
Foremost is the opportunity to hear O’Hara on the
commentary track, telling hilarious background stories and righting the trivial
inaccuracies that film historians have come up with over the years. She is unapologetic
about condemning today’s sex scenes and the current state of the craft of acting. She
pulls no punches, complaining about Wayne’s smoking and Ford’s cruelty. But, as
Michaeleen said, that red hair of hers is no lie. And in most cases, I think she’s
right.
There’s also a 30-minute documentary called The Joy
of Ireland. The title is simply wrong, but the piece is perfect. It’s not about
the joys of Ireland, but instead gives us the chance to listen in on the reminiscences of
O’Hara, Andy McLaglen (the second assistant director and son of Victor) and
Wayne’s son Patrick. Most of the cast is dead now, so the opportunity to have the few
still alive talk about the production is precious.
The Quiet Man was nominated for five Academy Awards,
including Best Picture (which The Greatest Show on Earth won, proving again that
the Academy is not always the best judge of films). Ford did win for Best Director, as did
Hoch for Best Cinematography.
During his career, John Ford made over 100 films. Picking The
Quiet Man as his best is like saying the B Minor Mass is Bach’s best
choral work. Or like saying that Romeo and Juliet is Shakespeare’s best play.
There’s just too much greatness across the breadth of the work to single out just one
work. What I can say is that the collector’s edition of The Quiet Man is the
best DVD ever released of a Ford film, and that makes it indispensable for any serious
collection.
...Wes Marshall
wesm@hometheatersound.com |
