‘MAN OF ARAN’

Evening Star, Issue 21934, 22 January 1935, Page 10

‘MAN OF ARAN’

SPECTACULAR FILM FOR STRAND ‘Man of. Aran,’ which was privately shown at the Grand Iheatie this morning, comes tO , uue )J''', many advance reports of its noitn, toi its unique subject and the romance of its conception have already captured the imagination of a wide pubhe. y i R J. Flaherty, who made the him for Gainsborough, has related how a chance remark by a fellow; tiaiellci fired him. three years ago, with the desire to visit the Aran Islands and to record for the greater world-the manner of life of their inhabitants, whose bitter struggle for existence seemed to him to epitomise all the nobler qualities of human coll 'fV«® and resource. fhe.se three bttle tracts of bare rock lie oft 'the west coast ot Ireland, swept constantly by a gale, pounded bv the Diiclitv Atlantic on all sule&. ineie is no‘soil in which to sow crops; not a tree, not a shrub grows naturally; fresh water is scarce, and even the fishing is perilous. Yet on the largest of these barren crags, Aran itself, twelve hundred souls exist and tear a scanty livelihood from the reluctant bosom of their enemy, Nature. The film selects for its protagonists in this ceaseless strife a hnndtul ot typical islanders: “ Tiger King, the slayer of sharks; Maggie D.crane, as his wife; and Michael Uillane, his son. All three play what is substantially their own lives belorc the camera, \wth a natural ease and unaffected ness which is remarkable. We sec the woman humping seaweed and scratching precious soil from crevices with her hare hands; the boy fishing from a cliff 300 ft above the sea; the man at work on his curragh—the fragile canoe of tarred hide which carries him through terrible seas. There is a shark fight which, we are told, lasted two davs and two nights before the quarry was towed finally ashore. Ihe excitement of the kill, with “ ligc* Jxing poised in the bows of the rocking curragh, with his hand-made harpoon raised to strike; then the great shark heaving in its death throes, to the imminent peril of the crow, is an experience without parallel in its simple authenticity. There are no studio tricks here. Finally comes the storm, with the little craft riding mountainous seas, steering in a channel between waves against which it seems impossible that anything could Jive, to be dashed to pieces on the rocks as its crew scrambles at the last minute to safety. The dosing scene shows the sea raging over its lost prey, but still master of all. . Narration of this simple story can give only a bare of the film, the storm scenes alone of which surpass mere description. It may be objected that Mr Flaherty has presented only one side of his islanders’ life, showing ns the hardships without the fellcnyship and those happier events which must succeed the day’s toil; centred on the tribulations of three people, his tale omits the spirit of community’ yipon which so isolated a civilisation must surely depend. We see the family of “Tiger” King fending for themselves, but we do not see them helping others; human courage is not complete without human kindness. Yet it seems ungracious to carp at a sincere work of aft, so deserving of praise that it rebukes criticism. The photography alone is beyond all previous essays on similar subjects. The name' of the . camera man has been strangely omitted from the titles, though it is his work upon which most of the film’s artistic value depends, all credit to the director’s guiding hand. One simply cannot visualise how many of the shots were photographed at #11 —the close-ups of the battling shark, towering waves taken within their very shadow, telescopic views of » tiny .boat glimpsed in the trough of turbulent seas. Not only was all this done with, a camera operated in the old-fashioned way, by hand, but the laboratory work was itself carried out under the primitive conditions of the island, which the treacherous sea passage renders far more remote than its thirty miles from the mainland would suggest. To Mr Flaherty and his staff, therefore, belongs an even greater credit on account of; their abnormal technical difficulties. In spite of these, the sound reproduction is excellent. Dialogue has been reduced to a minimum—a wise move this, for the brogue of the islands is too rich for our unaccustomed ears—but the incessant roar of the sea. swelling as the gale rises, shattered with each crashing wave, gives menace to the lowering calm, and terror to the storm. It is the voice of the sea, the real hero of the film, bellowing his challenge to mail, a not unworthy adversary ; who, if dwarfed in majesty, remains undismayed and confident in hope, ft is this sense that inspires ns as we see “ Tiger ” King with his little family watching ‘from the wind-swept cliff the splintered wreckage of their curragh being tossed hither ail'd, thither among the foam far beneath their feet. Tliere is fortitude in the set of their Kps and a light in their eyes of unquenchable trust.