La hija de Ryan

It's not hard to see why the critics disliked Ryan's Daughter so much. Films like Midnight Cowboy and Easy Rider had come along and made lots of money and won lots of plaudits. Therefore Ryan's Daughter, a three-hour, 70mm epic must have seemed like something of a fossil – it certainly wasn't hip or trendy. But while Midnight Cowboy and Easy Rider have dated pretty badly, Ryan's Daughter seems timeless.

That's not to say that Ryan's Daughter is without its faults. The story is wafer-thin, some of the writing (surprisingly for Robert Bolt) is lacklustre and the film runs out of steam before the end. But I'm more than able to forgive the film its faults, as it contains some wonderful scenes and some of the best visuals in cinema.

My fondness for Lean's much maligned film is secured in the first few frames. In a long wide shot we see a cliff with a microscopic figure running towards the edge. Then we see the film's heroine, Rosy Ryan (Sarah Miles), chasing a black umbrella that is floating down towards the sea. It's a breathtaking start with some of the best photography committed to film – the skies, in particular, are gorgeous.

And it's the start of the film that I enjoy the most. At the beginning the film is quite light and it has lots of energy. It also presents you with a central character who is full of hope for the future – I like the way Rosy, skipping along to Maurice Jarre's magnificent score, tosses her trashy romantic book into the sea, thinking that she wont have to live vicariously through other people anymore. And then when this is cut against Charles (Robert Mitchum) arriving on the outskirts of the village by bus, you realise what everything means – Rosy's white knight is arriving.

But the film doesn't stay light and breezy for long. In fact, things go downhill on the wedding night – after expecting great things from her husband and this curious piece of human behaviour called sex, Rosy only gets a minute or so of love from Charles. It's not like it is in the books she read.

After this you're introduced to Major Doryan (Christopher Jones), a shell-shocked English soldier who's been sent to Ireland. Right from the first moment you know he and Rosy are going to get involved. Therefore it's a good decision on Lean's part not to delay the inevitable. And I think the scene in the pub where Rosy and the Major meet and begin their affair is easily the best in the film, and certainly one of my favourites in cinema. It's just so imaginatively done. The photography, the editing and the scoring are perfect.

I also like Rosy and the Major's first sexual encounter. It's done without any dialogue (well, until Rosy has come twice) and again it's impeccably shot. And although I'm sure all the critics scoffed at the nature shots, Lean makes it work. And Lean makes it work because he was a genuine romantic. I mean, the reason why the vast majority of romantic films are risible are because they're not sincere – they feel incredibly cynical. But Lean can film a sex scene with shots of forest canopies and not make it laughable. But the scene also works because of Miles' superb acting. Her face captures all the trepidation and excitement that such an encounter would inspire.

It's actually criminal that Miles didn't win an Oscar for her performance (she was nominated). She makes Rosy, a woman who is cheating on her good-natured husband, both despicable and understandable – it's to Miles' credit that she isn't afraid to show Rosy's ugly side; sometimes she's a petulant brat.

And I also think that Mitchum's performance is underrated. He makes a dull character interesting. But I think it helps if you're familiar with Mitchum's work. I mean, it's strange to see the original Max Cady play a cuckold. And it's even stranger to see him last seconds in the sack and get beaten up.

And although his performance gets a lot of stick, I think Christopher Jones is fine in the film. He certainly looks the part. And although a lot of his dialogue had to be cut because the man was a mess on set, it actually works for the character. I mean, with hardly any dialogue it make his romance with Rosy a lot less banal – it gives it a bit mystery. Plus, what would an English officer and a poor Irish schoolteacher's wife have to talk about? The relationship makes much more sense as a sexual one – Rosy may love her husband but the Major gives her what she's missing.

Another refreshing element of Ryan's Daughter is the portrayal of the English and the Irish. All too often in any film set in Ireland, the locals are universally pure hearted while the English are universally loathsome. Here you have small-minded Irish peasants and English soldiers who are just doing their job. You also have an IRA that kills police officers in cold blood. Yeah, the film may be simplistic, but at least it doesn't have a sentimental, misty-eyed view of the common man.

And how can I talk about Ryan's Daughter and not mention the storm sequence? It's quite a remarkable piece of film and again it features some breathtaking photography – there's one shot where the waves crashing against the cliff seem to be blown backwards and another where the spray is sucked upwards into the sky. Anyone with a pair of eyes should enjoy it.

However, as much as I love the film, I do think it splutters towards its conclusion. I certainly don't mind it being three hours long, but the film does seem to run out of ideas towards the end. But that's only a minor complaint. On the whole, I think the film's fantastic.

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.

So who's right? Is it a dull, lumbering vehicle with beautiful photography and little else, or is it nothing short of a masterpiece?

Nothing short of a masterpiece.

So what explains the critical shellacking it got back in the 1970s, and the lazy kicks in the ribs it continues to get today? I have only a weak suggestion, scarcely an explanation at all:

It was the zeitgeist. The early 1970s - although the trend really began in the late 1960s - saw the rise of a dreary, kitchen-sink style of film-making which is easiest to recognise by its dingy cinematography (although that's not all here is to it); it was the style in which the young lions of 1970s American cinema (Francis Ford Coppola, Martin Scorsese, Steven Spielberg, and if "THX-1138" is the kind of film people say it is, George Lucas) made their name. It's true that time has not been kind to this style, and that the greatest films of the 1970s (like this one) owe nothing to it, but to be fair, it IS possible to make good films in this style, and a few such were made. The greatest asset of standard 1970s film-making is, as it happens, one also possessed by Lean: the ability to be in deadly earnest, to banish any hint of irony or sarcasm when it's not wanted. But this doesn't change the fact that "Ryan's Daughter" is not only different from what was modish around the time it was made; it ADVERTISES this difference. It might very well have the most beautiful cinematography of any film shot anywhere at any time. What's more, gorgeous photography is part of the essence of the film, not something that one can grime down in one's imagination to reveal a distinctively '70s film, in which the composition of shots doesn't matter, there's no atmosphere to speak of and everybody mumbles half-formed thoughts in ungrammatical sentences. This film, simply and unmistakably, doesn't belong in the era in which it was made.

At any rate the stated reasons for condemning he film don't sound at all convincing. Pauline Kael made a big deal of the fact that she couldn't accept Robert Mitchum as a mild-tempered cuckolded husband, which leads me to conclude that (a) she'd just seen "Cape Fear" the previous night, and (b) her brain was tired that week. In a way I can appreciate her difficulty, since when I saw the film, I wasn't aware that it WAS Robert Mitchum until I saw the end credits, so entirely convincing is he (and everyone else, for that matter). Another thing I've seen written a couple of times is that the film is "over-produced", a charge it's hard to make sense of. So Lean made a better film than, strictly speaking, he had to, in order to be faithful to the script? And this is meant to be a CRITICISM?

The only complaint that has justice on its side is the one directed at Maurice Jarre's score, too relentlessly jaunty at ill-chosen moments, particularly in the early arts of the film, without enough meat on the bones of the tunes to justify the fact that the music is really doing little to help. But even here, criticism is exaggerated. A majority of films released since, say, 1990, and this includes a majority of GOOD films, have musical scores that contribute even less, and are even more ill-judged; with "Ryan's Daughter" far more than with those films, complaining about the music seems petty.

Nothing so beautiful as "Ryan's Daughter" could possibly be other than good; the story is a fine one, simple in shape yet morally complex, and it's honestly told, with each point of view made vivid. The three hours are there to be relished. Lean uses the length of his film to make you wish it were longer still.

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?

There seems a common thread in most reviews for "Ryan's Daughter", you will read that the film does not work, it not as good as Lean's earlier masterpieces, it's too long, too boring and too "big", ALL NOT TRUE!! I'm sure most of those reviewing this magnificent motion picture have only seen it on a VHS tape or Television screening, which is the only explanation for these strange comments. For those who saw "Ryan's Daughter", in it's original 70mm presentation or even in the recent Australian 35mm screenings, you will understand the intimacy and beauty of this wonderful film. Having enjoyed it's longest run in the world at Sydney's Ascot Cinema (approx 2 years) the Sydney movie goers went back again and again as they fully appreciated this fine movie. Hopefully Warner Bros are preparing a fabulous transfer from the original 70mm elements (a quality 70mm print still exist, thanks to the poor US box office) to give us a quality DVD and make the long, long wait worthwhile. I hope WB can add some better extras than the trailer and short "making of" MGM added to the Laserdisc, it would be good to see the 2004 BBC Documentary "Ryan's Daughter Revisited" with Sarah Miles as featured extra. Also surely MGM must have produced a lot of additional promo material as this was their premium and much anticpated 1970 release. Congratulations to those who love this movie, for those who critise it hopefully one you will get to see "Ryan's Daughter" as it was intended to "get" what Lean was doing and how successful he was at delivering. No one can argue that the cinematography is perhaps the BEST ever.

12 out of 10.