The Quiet Man

The Irish joke has been around for a long time, and The Quiet Man clings safely to its durable components: temper, thirst, and whimsey. But two hours and ten minutes of wry smiles and roguish glances, even from masters Ward Bond and Barry Fitzgerald, are pretty wearing.

The billboards say that The Quiet Man "should go down in history as one of the greatest comedies made." It won't, but the film does have some very funny moments, with Fitzgerald and a broken bed providing the best of them. John Wayne dragging Maureen O'Hara over five miles of rolling country will delight paleolithic lovers, and the town's reaction to the final battle between Wayne and Victor McLaglen is pleasantly reminiscent of the call to arms in Tight Little Island. The scene transitions are choppy, however, and until the last half hour, which is fast-moving and entertaining, plot and action lumber along together.

The acting varies from too much to none at all, McLaglen successfully straddles the two extremes, though his face permits the widest scowls and leers ever seen on a movie screen. Fitzgerald, of course, serves up his hoary characterization of the Lovable Old Irishman. Miss O'Hara looks fine herding sheep, but the scene in which she's frightened by lightning is probably the year's worst bit of acting. Wayne as usual is a capable hero.

The coy principals of The Quiet Man may not lure travelers to Ireland, but the scenery certainly will. The Technicolor countryside ought to make any tourist skip the Loire and travel west from Southampton instead.