Ryan's Daughter (1970)

I don't always remember that in the midst of the Great War, the Irish republicans were keen to capitalise on British distractions elsewhere and use this moment to further their cause. Sadly for them, though, they hadn't the weaponry neccessary and getting it to the remote west coast of Ireland was quite a task. In a small village, pub landlord "Ryan" (Leo McKern) is one such man, dedicated to the freedom of his nation but also sensible enough not to pick fights with the army. His daughter, the school teacher "Rosy" (Sarah Miles) has just got married to "Shaughnessy" (Robert Mitchum) and though he's a decent enough cove she's less than impressed by marriage and so proves fairly susceptible to the charms of the newly arrived "Major Doryan" (Christopher Jones) who has been posted here to this backwater as he is clearly suffering from some sort of shell shock. Naturally, they have to keep their burgeoning relationship under wraps, but in such a tiny community and with the omnipresent "Michael" (John Mills) always appearing in the wrong place at the wrong time the likelihood of the gossips finding out, or even just maliciously speculating, has got to be high. Meantime, local insurgent "Tim" (Barry Foster) is awaiting an arms delivery which, despite a ferocious storm, the entire community manage to land - only for the soldiers to be waiting on the road to seize it and apprehend him. Someone must have told the police, but who? Well you can guess whom the villagers turn on, and the effect that has on both "Rosy" and the remarkably loyal "Shaughnessy". Set against the beautiful scenery of Western Ireland, this is a touchingly complex blend of love story and political thriller that illustrates that even though their desire for independence was strong, it was nowhere near as strong as the hold over them held by the church - and that is superbly, if sparingly, exemplified by Trevor Howard in quite possibly his best part since his portrayal of Bligh eight years ago. He's a priest who almost governs his community, he knows when to intervene and when to keep his nose out and he insists that "Michael" is left in peace. Why? "Michael" scurries around the village as if he were an Irish version of "Quasimodo", and is so often the subject of ridicule by the townsfolk who aren't always the most Christian in their attitudes towards him. Despite the fact that he has no dialogue, I think this role gives Mills scope to break the mould of his usually more stiff upper lip characterisations and really shine. McKern also delivers well and the entire village ensemble present us with a vision of a small network of people whom it's great to watch but I reckon would be horrible to live amongst. Mitchum hasn't really very much to do, but he manages to exert quite a stabilising influence as he reconciles with his failings as an husband and by the conclusion there is certainly no sign of a rose-covered cottage for anyone. David Lean reunited with Robert Bolt for the screenplay and with Maurice Jarre for an instantly recognisable score and presented us with a very characterful story of love, lust and a search for freedom in many of it's guises that is well worth a watch.