Film-vie de Ford, ô grand jamais l'idylle a été aussi proche du vrai. Le rêve verdâtre fordien sorti d'une brûme westernienne. L'Amour, la vie, les instants plutôt que la grande histoire, tel est le cinéma de rêve, de miracle et de contemplation. Cinéma-vie, tel une émancipation joycienne.
Not the kind of film I would normally fall for, but really good in its own right. Obviously the stunning colours and the careful phonographic construction of the scenes helps. But the the script, on the basis of not so strong story, just keeps on delivering without pushing any of the devices too far.
A bit of a fairy-tale.Eire was dirt poor at the time this film was made with large levels of illiteracy in the rural areas and Eamonn de Valera's Ireland was a rather down-trodden theocracy. .Victor McClaglen rather stole the show from John Wayne.My views only.
The finest technicolor images, and Ford's ensemble literally snowballs into a communal utopia that is sadly supplemented of only the vaguest gestures outside of the male homosocial. An incomplete exchange. Wayne and O'Hara put enough into their full-bodied performances to sublimate that (this work is also naturally done by Ford's endlessly creative blocking, shooting). But then again, she's dragged through the mud.
Hollywood's seductive portrayal of imaginary village life in the Emerald Isle, circa forever. John Wayne returns to the family turf to claim his birthright and the only attractive girl for his spouse. Although mainly the quiet man, occasionally JW reverts to 'yee ha' wild west mode, particularly when on horseback. Not a privation or potato famine in sight, b' gorrah.