Ryan's Daughter

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ** (add a half-star if you're seduced by gorgeous scenery)
DVD Quality Rating (out of 5): ****

As an enormous fan of much of the work of British stalwart David Lean, it pains me to say that there is so much wrong with the Lean-directed/Robert Bolt-scripted Ryan's Daughter (though the quality of the DVD itself is excellent) that it's difficult to know just how to begin cataloging it. Let's start with the fact that there is - maximum - one full hour worth of actual content here, yet the film drags on for well over three. The oft-used phrase "What were they thinking?" comes to mind throughout, but I cannot provide any intelligent answer. It's not that the movie lacks for themes, encompassing as it does W.W.I, the British occupation of Ireland, "the Troubles," informers, marriage, adultery and the dismal lack of sex education in the Ireland of this time period (the best of this "education," interestingly enough, comes via a priest). Yet the Lean/Bolt handling of all this, while adhering to the director's perfectly appointed style that combines expansive vistas and restrained emotions (this time, with more obvious sexuality than his movies usually possess), is surprisingly heavy-handed.

From the townspeople's constant tormenting of the "village idiot," played with relish (and ham) by John Mills, who won an Academy Award for his obvious efforts, to the repetitious reminders of the heroine's passionless marriage, we get (and get and get) the point. The first fifteen minutes of Part II is very nearly a silent film, missing only the "title cards" and complete with the overacting and heavy-duty music (Maurice Jarre's score is generally horrible: obvious and repetitive to near distraction). The performances, while adequate, aren't enough to carry it. Robert Mitchum offers his usual low-key acting, with an okay Irish accent; Sarah Miles is pretty and lightweight here, while Christopher Jones is properly one-note (his character is depressed, after all, though depression and sexual passion rarely go this hand-in-hand). Yet any other dozen performers of the time period could have done as well or better. I suspect the casting came from something more than mere talent: Miles was married to Bolt at the time, and Jones (Wild in the Streets) was the "hottie" du jour, whose final celluloid appearance for over 25 years this film marks. Trevor Howard, as the priest, handily outdoes everyone.

Ryan's Daughter is a beautiful movie to view, with the Irish scenery often breathtaking. Just as breathtaking, however, is the anti-Irish bias on display - not surprising, given Lean's and Bolt's very British upbringings and the political situation going on at the time. Still, the stupidity, nastiness and mendacity of the Irish depicted here is pretty appalling. "Period" movies often seem to date less badly or obviously than do films set in contemporary times, and this one is no exception.

There are also some truly lovely scenes throughout: my favorite is one between Jones and a corporal played by Barry Jackson, in which the later confesses his fear of going to the front. By the finale, however, more than three hours in, you might be forgiven for remarking, as did my companion, that Ms. Miles comeuppance haircut would fetch top dollar in today's East Village bohemian scene. She looks the perfect little "punk" biscuit, and for a moment the movie threatens to inadvertently soar before glumly plodding onwards towards retribution, reconciliation and a very restive fanny (mine, and most probably, yours).

The transfer quality is excellent, befitting the film's fine visuals, and the DVD comes complete with "Overture," "Intermission," "Entr'Acte" and "Exit" music (if you haven't already had enough of the "Jarre-ing" score), aping the manner in which the film was first released in its reserved-seat engagement format. There's a bevy of Special Features, too - including a tri-part 35th Anniversary Documentary, which fans of this film will mostly likely want to watch.