The Quiet Man still has a lot to love. The couple riding in the matchmaker’s cart and escaping into the Irish countryside is charming. When she shelters against his wet, white shirt, it’s one of the more romantic moments ever put on film. The beautiful horse race on the beach, the Playfairs jovially riding their two-person bicycle through town, Father Lonergan battling with his fishing — all wonderful to watch. I can (and do) quote Michaleen Flynn all day.
However, Mary Kate dragged by her husband through the fields nullifies everything else. I can’t say how that scene played in 1952, but today it’s offensive.
When we strip away the baggage, this love story is simple. She’s a Four and he’s a Nine, a classic combination. She’s passionate and quick-tempered, having all the feelings for the both of them. He’s laid back, able to disengage from much that riles her. Perhaps as a Four, an open book to all of the village, one more degrading moment doesn’t shame her? Perhaps his display of feelings, no matter how ugly, reassures her of his love?
Nope, it’s all the language of abuse. It’s an unnecessary scene — the intent is quite clear without pulling a woman through sheep dung — that could be reworked, making a movie that is watchable today. I hate to see classic filmmaking consigned to the dustbin. John Ford made his choices, though, and today’s audience will judge accordingly.
