1952, Year in Review: The Quiet Man

The Quiet Man

Directed by John Ford

Starring: John Wayne, Maureen O'Hara, Victor McLaglen, Barry Fitzgerald

Grade: B

There's something permanently lovely about John Ford's "The Quiet Man", even if watching regressive sexual politics and unending traditionalism isn't exactly my cup of tea. If there's one knack Ford had it's for capturing community spirit and togetherness through the internal conflict of an ingrained collective. In two of his Oscar wins, The Informer and How Green Was My Valley, the Irish and Welsh villages debate over how to solve the problems of betrayal and capitalism respectively, and the approach towards the conflict in "The Quiet Man" doesn't differ greatly from that of these pictures.

Set in Innisfree, a village in Ireland, the film is a romantic comedy of sorts, devoted to the relationship between a disgraced Irish-American boxer (Wayne) and the sister of the village's chief land-owner, 'Red' Will Danaher (McLaglen). Sean Thornton's return to the town after a lengthy absence instigates resentment in Will, who wanted to buy the Thornton property. Moreover, the newfound Americanised ideology of Sean angers Danaher, and exacerbates their relationship considerably. Through the help of the townsfolk Thornton is finally able to court Maureen O'Hara's Mary Kate, despite the remonstrations of brother Will, but in the process further complicates his and her position within the community.

Essentially "The Quiet Man" is about the difficulty of cultural convergence, and the problems one faces when encountering a very concentrated way of life. Mary Kate is in love with Sean but she's also fiercely protective of her background and tradition, to the extent where she'd give him up to preserve a level of perceived dignity. I don't necessarily feel that Thornton was that cavalier a presence for audiences at the time, since post-war American life seems, by all accounts, a period in which people wanted to negate tradition. Still, it is mostly left up to Sean to do the converging, since Ford is evidently keen to reinforce those core cultural values and woo us into buying into Innisfree as a home from home.

Despite the undeniable candor "The Quiet Man" feels too reverent of Ireland's salt-of-the-earth, brazen, simplistic life (considering Ford's Irish heritage, it's little surprise) that it often distracts us from considering whether that's an appealing option to Sean. The indiscretion which forced him to give up physical confrontation altogether reveals a more sinister element to his character, yet this other persona is referred to so sparingly that Sean comes across as little other than a charming, quiet man marooned in an environment that feels specifically designed to test his patience. A late decision to show his fists acts as a realisation of the conviction of his earlier actions, but is a fundamental encouragement of unhealthy, needless aggression and curbs the ambitions of an otherwise successful fighter.

But then, the film works so well at crafting humanist qualities in its characters that I feel a tad guilty about denouncing it for neglecting Thornton's perspective. After all, he's rather like the only visitor in a circus of attention-seeking souls that court petty playground feuds and rollercoaster romances. Maureen O'Hara too indulges in Innisfree's salutation of drama as a fixture of rural insularity, and even as Mary Kate often forms the serious obstruction to happiness for both herself and Sean, it's telling that she isn't silly enough to think that he won't eventually come across to her way of thinking. Sean is only an outsider as much as the town will allow, and the majority of Innisfree's gala parade are always on his side.

Showcasing a celebratory attitude towards resistance to change, "The Quiet Man" doesn't comprehensively address the resentment estrangement often leads to. Still, the impressive ease with which Ford establishes a commonality that appear so wholly self-governing and sustainable ensures that it ranks as a fetching achievement. Bruises come with building bridges but the strain ends there.

Academy Awards

Wins:
Best Director: John Ford
Best Cinematography, Colour

Nominations:
Best Picture
Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Victor McLaglen
Best Writing, Screenplay
Best Art Direction, Colour
Best Sound, Recording

Continuing the Old Theme...

I'm clearly in classic mode. Updating of the website has been very slow over the last few months, but I've managed to create pages for all years between 1937 and 1942, so if you're interested whether I think How Green Was My Valley should really have beaten Citizen Kane, you can now see. Hopefully, write-ups will ensue for some of these films, and I'm planning to integrate some awards into the pages -- although this will probably just be winners for now since the amount of films from these years is hardly substantial.

Mo Ga Mbo

Mogambo (1953)

Directed by John Ford

Starring: Ava Gardner, Clark Gable, Grace Kelly, Donald Sinden

Grade: B -

While Gone With the Wind saw Clark Gable's Rhett Butler enjoy an emphatic sparring of hard-to-get with Southern Belle Scarlett O'Hara, in John Ford's Mogambo his safari leader, Victor Marswell, has to make significantly less effort to hold a woman's gaze. The years may have piled on but Ava Gardner's Eloise Kelly is infatuated with him a mere twenty minutes into the romantic adventure, and it's an infatuation that does not die down. But if ever you found yourself torn between the talons of two women (a frightening thought in itself), you'd be hard pushed to find two better birds than the fiery Gardner and the precious Grace Kelly, who find themselves consigned to the bottom end of a truly memorable love triangle.

Eloise and Victor's early chemistry and brief clinch are halted by the introduction of animal-lovers Donald Nordley and his wife Linda, to whom Gable's familiar insensitive brute takes more than a fancy to. The attraction is mutual, but with Eloise stranded on the wildlife range indefinitely, and increasingly left out in the cold by the besotted Victor, her sharp wit and bold outspokenness threaten to escalate the situation further. Ava Gardner, who I'd only previously seen in Stanley Kramer's drone, apocalyptic On the Beach, is one of the few reasons the film is enjoyable. Her charisma, executed wildly in head-flicks, eye-rolls, and the occasionally cheeky smirk, reveals the dark and daring incisiveness to a dangerous and exciting character. Her brashness is apparent -- humour spearheaded, red lipstick smeared, bosom ablaze -- and so Eloise is the passionate, tarnished harlot to Linda's graceful, wouldn't-say-boo-to-a-goose purity that makes them counterparts in both love and life.

As Mogambo presses on it becomes clear that Eloise is really the only interesting character in the film (or at least Gardner's is the only performance that digs deep enough into her character), but that doesn't stop the love triangle from keeping your attention, or indeed from encouraging you to draw conclusions from it. The confrontation of such an awkward group dynamic feels in itself rather cavalier, and as the plot unravels further Mogambo acknowledges that sex, passion, deception, can manifest itself in the strangest and most unpredictable of eventualities. The limited number of characters in the film, and its compact setting, makes the infidelity all the more lewd, absurd, but dare I say it naturalistic; a flicker of nature within the midst of nature, if you will. But that really is as far as Mogambo endeavours to explore the reasons for its African wilderness, which become ever more isolated as a part of MGM's fanciful, technicolour extravagance. A word of thanks to the Kenyan government precedes the film (a self-congratulatory pat-on-the-back if ever there was one) but there's minimal exploration of African culture, showcasing a plethora of wildlife but very little else, and the use of Kenya as a base for Mogambo's action translates as disingenuous theatre.

The entire debacle may come across as a misogynistic venture, and this is an accusation largely warranted. Gable has all the power and authority, stemming from his position as leader of the safari and superior knowledge of this outdoor setting, and so his ease of assertion in the film, particularly in terms of his relationships with the two women, are understandable to a point. It's interesting that both Eloise and Linda (different as they are) emerge as rather daring characters, both willing to spurn their Western world for a holiday romance. Kelly's Linda is bored and repressed, and convincingly swept away by a man and climate relatively alien to her, but Gardner's Eloise is a different proposition altogether. Oozing with confidence, sex appeal, and general worldliness her loose cannon struggles to accept Victor's feelings for Linda, but confusingly ends up sanctioning his predatory behaviour at the end of the film.

Mogambo ultimately feels like a bit of a cop-out. With snippets of culture and bites of common sense, too much of the film feels token and frivolous. And when attempting to make light of its moody, jealous, contemptuous relationships, it just doesn't cut it. But for a story that never needed Kenya the women in it need this elder Rhett Butler like a dog needs a bone, and their cravings make for mighty juicy viewing.