La Fille de Ryan

It is such a major tragedy that one of the greatest directors in the history of film, David Lean was so savaged by the critics after pouring vast stores of time, energy and devotion into this production. It has long been clear to me why "Ryan's Daughter" was so poorly received. After Lean's previous epics, everyone was certain that, with all the time and money that went into this film, and with its lengthy running time, it would simply have to be a similar type of show. When people bring such expectations to a movie and are confronted with something so daringly different, they often focus on what they didn't see and miss the virtue of the picture they saw. This film is too "slow", too absorbed with the subtle dynamics of the interaction between its characters for a viewer who is burning to see vast battle scenes, mighty parades and mobs of extras caught up in violent historical struggles. The "spectacle" in this film (and spectacle it is indeed) comes from the exquisite widescreen lensing of stunning Irish coastal scenery. The fabulous storm sequence with villagers battling raging surf in their efforts to retrieve floating contraband is, in my opinion, unmatched in all the thousands of movies I have seen. The drama of the central characters' lives and the depiction of the way the eternal conflicts that continue to trouble their nation work to destroy normal existence for them....this all works for me. I guess there are going to be many who just can't buy into the whole thing, but I can only feel sorry for them. To me, Lean did create an epic here, but not the traditional kind that everyone came to see. It is a "feast-for-the-eyes", intimate epic of the tumultuous emotional life of a little village caught in a swirl of hatred, suspicion, prejudice and seething conflict with an occupying army. One of my dearest hopes is that I may live to see a handsome DVD release of this splendid masterpiece before too much more time elapses. It should NEVER be viewed in some pan-and-scan edition on an ordinary TV! Seen this way with all that glorious cinematography cropped and miniaturized, "Ryan's Daughter" could indeed be seen as a failure. I always wonder how many magnificent David Lean films we will never see as a result of the unproductive years that resulted from the crushing effect on the director of the widespread rejection of this wonderful creation. What a travesty!

Despite all the nay-saying, this is one of my favourite films. Every now and again, everything clicks for you in terms of how a film is put together. I never tire of watching this movie. And despite what anyone else thinks about the music, I thought it was some of Maurice Jarre's finest work. Apparently it was some of his own favorite composition work. I hope someday to get over to the West coast of Ireland and see some of the scenery in person. I thought that the acting in the film was some of the most courageous work that some of the actors had ever taken on. The film was just long enough for me. As for the esteemed David Lean, no one---and I mean no one--was ever as good at making mankind seem so small and insignificant when compared to the forces and spaces in nature. He was able to take Freddy Young's cinematography and bring out the best in it. I liked it when I was younger, and I like it even more now. I respect it very much and pity those who are unable to savour it. I admit that very few people will be able digest it in it's entirety. Thank god I'm not one of them. Thank-you Mr. Lean wherever you are.

The art of David Lean in making film masterpieces from the 1940s to this last epic in 1970 is now a forgotten talent. Lean was the best at producing cinema that really was for the cinema. You can feel the cameras rolling, the scenes moving at a pace moviegoers can absorb and thrill to. Ryan's Daughter belongs with the best of Lean, and has long been underrated. The acting is wonderful - John Mills is outstanding, Leo McKern and Trevor Howard impeccable, Sarah Miles and Robert Mitchum excellent with just the right amount of awkwardness the parts require. Christopher Jones gave just the right amount of weight to the shell-shocked, traumatised World War I survivor of the trenches. The scenery lent itself to panoramic filming and the storm was a fantastic achievement on film for the period.

Unfortunately, Lean's epics don't come over half so well on the small screen. I wish we could see all these films again in the cinema. I saw the revival of Gone With The Wind in 1968 in a big London cinema and it was marvelous. Wouldn't it be wonderful to see Lawrence of Arabia, Dr Zhivago, and Ryan's Daughter again on the big screen?

I love this movie. Saw it again last night on the big, wide screen at the Astor, from a beautiful new print. There is much to deserve love: the artistry of the film making; unspeakably fine cinematography; superb use of music and sound (hearing nothing but the wind in the trees during the forest scene is breathlessly sensual); and major and minor characters who each in their own way reflect the eternal enigma of human longing for life and transcendence. The film's evocation of human lives caught up in the inexorable forces of nature and history at this particular moment and place is profoundly arresting. There's a timelessness about this movie which makes the criticisms I've heard - about miscasting, stiff acting and the like - melt away into irrelevance, or even shows them to be virtues. I love the way the film maintains narrative integrity but has a foreordained, mythical quality as well: the overwhelming, all-penetrating power of nature and fate seems to make the human doings at once piercingly real and immediate, yet disconnected, almost surreal. But the touches of humour and sharp, immediate visual detail (often wittily drawn from the visual history of paintings and caricatures of village life) save us from any kind of authorial portent or angst: the greatest wonder of this artful work is that there is nothing between us and the story, except perhaps the icy whip of the ocean wind gainst our faces. The range of characters both in kind and in how we experience them is enlivening - from the formidably down to earth Father Collins, to the captivatingly tragic and symbolic figure of Doryan. And Michael the retarded angel is the ultimate figure of grace.

I wish someone would do a little project to re score this film with an Irish soundtrack. The score by Maurice Jarre is god awful and rips away any romance or passion that's under the surface. It also completely undercuts the visuals making the piece feel off kilter and parochial. Where the bolt script isn't quite as bad as some say it is.