Just one of the guys

Color cinematography only enhanced her flame-haired beauty, tough leading men made her seem even tougher and a tempestuous director of iconic westerns gave her the role of a lifetime. Dublin-born Maureen O’Hara became one of Hollywood’s most reliably mesmerizing leading ladies for more than three decades -- starring in such classics as “How Green Was My Valley,” “The Black Swan” and “The Quiet Man” -- and her travails as a truth-speaking woman in a resolutely male-dominated business are only part of the rollicking charm of her recent memoir, “ ‘Tis Herself” (written with John Nicoletti). Now 83, O’Hara is as straight-talking as ever, a glamorous old-school mix of equal parts vanity, generosity and nostalgia.

What about your Irish heritage was most beneficial in navigating your acting career?

We were always taught there is nothing you cannot become, provided you’re willing to make the sacrifices necessary. A lot of people were just discovered licking an ice cream, but when they don’t do further study, it slips away from them pretty easily.

What were your first thoughts of America when you came over as a teenager?

I landed off the Queen Mary in New York City and thought, “Why are so many men bald?” But I found people were kind and gracious. And on the train from New York to Los Angeles, we stopped at a town and I saw Indians sitting in circles at the railroad station. I thought it was wonderful, because in Ireland my favorite movies were gangster movies and westerns.

Your first Hollywood movie was 1939’s “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” What do you most remember of it?

The magnificent sets built out in the Valley, and running around barefoot and getting terrible blisters on the soles of my feet. And crowds of extras who came from all parts of the world. I love to talk to people and chitchat with them about their country. It was wonderful. And hotter than holy hell.

Your co-star, Charles Laughton, was also your mentor. What kind of man was he?

He was the finest actor in the world. Of course, everybody teases me when I say he had a County Cork mother, so he was half-Irish, and that was one of the best things about him! (Laughs) But he was a magnificent director and actor and friend.

You were famously dubbed “The Queen of Technicolor.” Who would you say was king?

I never thought of that. [Pause.] Well, by God, if you have a great queen, why do you need a king? [Laughs.]

John Wayne was undoubtedly a movie king. What best describes his friendship?

Somebody who supports you, who’s proud of you, who helps you, who involves you in his family and the love between him and his kids. His kids call me Auntie Maureen.

He once said of you “She’s a great guy.” Do you think you got along better with men?

Well, not one of them has ever turned me down as a costar. Not one has ever said, “God, not that woman again.” I was proud of the fact that the men I’ve known have admired me and liked me and respected me.

What was the secret to the way you, Wayne and director John Ford worked together?

Respect. And when Ford would get tough and nasty, we forgave him. At times we wanted to punch him in the nose. He treated us all the same. He treated Duke the same way he treated me, Ward Bond, Jimmy Stewart. But when you’d think about it going home at night, you were proud of your day’s work. A lot of directors, you went home weeping in misery, ashamed of what you’d done. But Ford was a genius. He was talented, and intolerable.

What do you most cherish about making “The Quiet Man”?

The fact that it was made in Ireland. We got to go home. We fought to get it made from 1943 to 1951. We had to make “Rio Grande” to get the financing. It was a labor of desire and ego and love and wishing and hoping, and thank God we finally made it, because everybody said it was a silly little Irish story that would never make a penny.

Who would you like to see play you in the movie of your life?

Nobody! It would kill me if they decided to make a movie about me. It would be the most tragic thing. I hope they don’t.