Ryan’s Daughter (1970)
(On Cable TV, March 2022) You would think that calling a film boring would be the ultimate insult, but language has far worse superlatives available for those films that go beyond the limits of boredom. Boredom, to me, implies becoming uninterested in the film, letting one’s mind wander but still being willing to play along in comes something better comes up. But describing Ryan’s Daughter as “boring” is understating things. A stronger term is sorely needed to accurately represent the experience of sitting through a three-hour-and-fifteen-minute romance set against in an Irish village. There are no humanly explainable reasons why this film should be as long. Hence ruffling through the thesaurus to unleash some serious semantic weaponry. Ryan’s Daughter, then, is an interminable film. It stubbornly refuses to end even as our attention is completely gone, dwelling as we do upon shopping lists, tax filings and looking forward to being stuck in traffic. Worse yet: it’s fractally interminable, meaning that it’s not just the film itself that never ends, but entire sequences, scenes, shots and lines of dialogue that never end. Director David Lean is celebrated for his epic films, but he should have been restrained, forcibly, from ever making this film. His approach is utterly unsuitable to the topic. Ryan’s Daughter could have been reasonably tolerable at 90 minutes. At twice that, it’s a chore approaching torture, with an unsatisfying plot made worse by miscalculations such as a thoroughly irritating village idiot. I saw Ryan’s Daughter because I wanted to cross it off my list of Oscar-winning films, but now that I have done so, there’s no way (short of money or seduction) that I’ll willingly watch this again on my own. Life is short and getting shorter for this middle-aged reviewer: I refuse to make death come closer by wasting another one-eights of one of my remaining days watching this again.