2/10
Disembowel yourself with Rusty Razor Blades rather than watch this movie
19 May 1999
What has Ireland ever done to film distributers that they seek to represent the country in such a pejorative way? This movie begins like a primer for film students on Irish cinematic cliches: unctuous priests, spitting before handshakes, town square cattle marts, cycling by country meadows to the backdrop of anodyne folk music. Quickly, however, it becomes apparent that the main theme of the film is the big Daddy-O of Irish Cliches - religous strife. It concerns a protestant woman who wants to decide where her Catholic-fathered child is educated, which would seem like a reasonable enough wish, though not to the '50's County Wexford villagers she has to live with. Rather than send them to a Catholic school, she decides to up and leave for Belfast, then Scotland, where a few more cliches are reguritated. While she's there, her father (who looks eerily like George Lucas) and family back home are subjected to a boycott, which turns very nasty. I'm not going to give away the ending, not because I think people should go see this movie, but because it's not very interesting. One of the problems with the film is the central character: we're supposed to sympathise with her but end up instead urging her to get a life. The villagers are presented as bigots whose prejudices should be stood up to, but traumatising your kids seems an innappropriate way to go about it. In addition, it takes on burdens which it staggers igniminiously under when it tries to draw analogies with the current Northern Ireland peace process: the woman is told by her lawyer that she "must lay down preconditions" for her return. The film is allegedly based on a true story but it's themes have been dealt with much more imaginatively, and with less recourse to hackneyed cliches, in the past.
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