Showing up at the Fleadh
The guessing game all week had to do with who would show up and who would not show up.
I’m talking about the Galway Film Fleadh which just ended its 35th edition yesterday. Needless to say, a lot of the fun of attending film festivals is getting to see and hear from people involved in the making of the movies. Sometimes they show up, and sometimes they don’t.
Kate O’Toole showed up. She wasn’t involved in making any of the movies (as far as I know anyway), but it doesn’t feel like it’s the Fleadh unless she’s there. For the first time in ages I got hold of an opening night ticket and, along with the Missus, was in the audience for the big evening. Kate always used to introduce the film fest because she was the Fleadh’s board chair. She’s not the chair anymore (she’s still on the board, though), but they still bring her out because no one gets you in the mood for movies like she does. My dream is to someday attend all the same parties she does.
Jimmy Smallhorne showed up. He is the one who came up with the story (inspired by his mother and her friends and their Dublin community) and co-wrote the screenplay for The Miracle Club. Twenty-five years earlier he had stood on that very same stage to introduce his first movie 2 by 4, which I think kind of blew everyone away. (It blew me away anyway.) There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as he talked about how much The Miracle Club meant to him and how moved he was when a memorial plaque prop in the movie (for Maggie Smith’s character’s son) had the very same birth date as his mother’s. (It also happened to be the date as the Missus’s birthday, although not the same year.)
Matthew Modine showed up. Well, he didn’t actually appear at the world premiere of his new movie The Martini Shot even though he was in Galway. He was there to give an actors masterclass. I don’t know if he went ahead with the masterclass, but he didn’t show up at the premiere because mere minutes earlier the Screen Actors Guild went on strike. (Shortly earlier the stars at the London premiere of Oppenheimer had walked out of the theater.) I don’t know if any of the other actors in the movie were meant to be there as well, but they didn’t show up either. Modine did do an interview the next day (apparently about everything except his movie) on the radio.
Joan Baez did not show up. She wasn’t actually supposed to be there, but she was scheduled to do a live video interview after the Irish premiere of the documentary Joan Baez: I Am a Noise, but one of the film’s (three!) directors, Maeve O’Boyle, was there to explain that Joan had to cancel for unavoidable reasons. Still, Maeve provided plenty of fascinating background stories and extra information.
Everybody—and I mean absolutely everybody—who had anything to do with the movie Made in Dublin was at its world premiere and was brought on stage and asked to say something about it. That included director Jack Armstrong, his co-writer Chris Harris, producers and most of the cast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a large a group of people so happy and gratified to be someplace before. The movie is about an aspiring actor who can’t catch a break, and the actors in the movie (many of whom are early in their careers) seemed to appreciate how fortunate they are to be working and to be getting applause at a film festival.
John Murry showed up, and boy, when he shows up, he really shows up! He was the subject of the movie (which ended up winning the Fleadh’s Best Irish Documentary award) The Graceless Age: The Ballad of John Murry, and once the screening was ended, he bounded to the front of the auditorium to give us an extended rendition of his “Little Colored Balloons.” He was clutching an aluminum can, and though I can’t be sure, I strongly suspect it wasn’t sparkling water. Accompanied by and bantering with enthusiastic keyboardist Conor, Murry seemed to making up whole new verses on the spot as he went on. By the time the song had ended, it had somehow morphed into John Lennon’s “Imagine.” He entertained many, many questions from the audience—as well as just speaking at length extemporaneously. He was joined by the doc’s director Sarah Share. The last time I saw her was at another Fleadh 22 years ago when she was presenting a documentary about Shane MacGowan. Let’s just say that Murry was much more generous giving his time to the audience than MacGowan was two decades ago.
Seána Kerslake did not show up. She was in Galway, and she was supposed to be at the screening of the excellent Ballywalter, but she had an even better excuse than Matthew Modine. She was minding an ailing infant. (Hmmm… could that be why her character was pregnant and restricted to bedrest in the first season of Bad Sisters?) I don’t know if Patrick Kielty was meant to be there, but he didn’t show up either. He would have had to travel farther than Kerslake because he lives in London. That isn’t stopping him, though, from commuting to Dublin weekly starting in September, as he will be hosting Ireland’s most-watched chat/entertainment show. (Ironically, in the movie he plays a man who makes a weekly journey to Belfast.) The guy he’s replacing landed in a spot of bother since relinquishing the job, though it’s not entirely his fault. There’s a whole scandal going right now involving the state broadcaster RTÉ, but I’m digressing.
Director Prasanna Puwanarajah did show up to talk about Ballywalter, and I have to say that he gave one of the best interviews I have ever heard a filmmaker give at the Fleadh.
Ballywater was one of two “bally” movies I saw at the Fleadh. (Quick language note: “bally” is an anglicization of the Irish baile, meaning town.) The other was Ballymanus, and the co-directors of that heartbreaking documentary did show up.
While I did manage to see the festival’s Best Documentary, as per usual I missed the Best Irish Film. It was Apocalypse Clown, which, according to the program notes, “follows a troupe of failed clowns as they embark on a chaotic road trip of self-discovery after a mysterious solar event plunges the world into anarchy.” I also didn’t see the Best Irish First Feature, John Carlin’s tense thriller Lie of the Land. I did see one of the two films (Thaddeus O’Sullivan’s The Miracle Club and Lisa Mulcahy’s Lies We Tell) featuring actor Agnes O’Casey (great-granddaughter of playwright Seán), who won the Bingham Ray New Talent Award.
I was very sorry to have missed the program “Irish Talent: New Shorts 1: Way Out West.” One of the included short films intrigued me. Written and directed by Dina Sragalj, it was described thus: “Scott survives on the streets of Galway. He does not have a cup or a sign in front of him. Though he is without a home, he is more content than most. With time and patience, others start to notice his humanity.” The title: His Name Is Scott.
I can’t believe I’ve been attending the Galway Film Fleadh for a quarter-century now. But like I keep saying, it’s important to show up. After all this time, though, I think I’m getting a bit long in the tooth to party with John Murry. Still, I definitely wouldn’t mind being at a party with Kate.
-S.L., 17 July 2023
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