The story of charming Michael McBride (Sean Connery) and his move to the small town of Rathcullen as caretaker of a huge estate previously managed by Darby O’Gill (Albert Sharpe). It’s a movie that has haunted Irish people for decades, and surely the source of so many twee stereotypes. I know I looked at it incredulously as a kid growing up in a Dublin suburb. I shuddered at its portayal of superstitious villagers and green pastures, at its sheep, and at its god-awful little people (fairies the cast meet along the way).
And, oh yeah, I all but vomited when I first heard Connery butchering my accent, with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. When he isn’t bursting randomly into song that is. I mean, what’s his excuse? He’s from Scotland, and of Irish descent. On watching the movie again, even I couldn’t understand what he was saying. It’s like he’s taken the Irish accent and put it through a blender. Okay, maybe I’m being too harsh — this is a Disney film, after all. But still, fail.