Four Films About the Troubles

My Irish film festival moves on with four different films which have at the center the "Troubles" in Northern Island. Two of them are collaborations between director Jim Sheridan and actor Daniel Day-Lewis, who first teamed with Day-Lewis' Oscar-winning performance in My Left Foot. Their second was 1993's In the Name of the Father, which was my favorite film of that year. It begins with the thumping title song, sung by Bono, accompanying the sight of a pub being blown to bits by a bomb planted by the IRA. We then meet Gerry Conlan, a young layabout in Belfast. He is constantly in trouble with the law, and with the local IRA, who don't want thieves about attracting the attention of the British occupying forces. Gerry moves to London, and through a series of tragic misunderstandings, ends up arrested and framed for the bombing in Guildford, along with three friends. The British police, under intense pressure, incredibly also arrest Gerry's mild-mannered father, and the two share a cell, while completely innocent.

Films about the wrongly accused, as Hitchcock knew, are gut-wrenching, and this one is no different. It is seen how easily a false confession can be wrung out of someone, and how hope in the judicial system is a flimsy one. What makes this film so good is that the central relationship between father and son is the load-bearing wall of a sense of hope, and that the lawyer played by Emma Thompson, who believes in their innocence, gives the audience hope as well as the Conlons. The ending, which has everyone cleared in court, is one of the more thrilling ends of a film in recent memory.

Sheridan and Day-Lewis teamed a few years later for The Boxer. Day-Lewis plays a prizefighter who took part in some sort of violence for the IRA, did his time, and now is back in Belfast. He wants nothing to do with the IRA, and instead is interested in starting a gym for the local youth. Problems arise, though, when he rekindles his love for Emily Watson, who is married to his best friend, who is in prison. A prisoner's wife, in the culture of the Catholics of Northern Ireland, is unapproachable. This film isn't nearly as powerful as Father, but it is a solid work and an illuminating look at a perilous situation.

Sheridan was Executive Producer of Paul Greengrass's Bloody Sunday, a cinema verite-style look at the events of January 30, 1972, in which a peaceful civil rights march in Derry erupted in violence when British paramilitary forces fired upon the marchers, killing 13 and wounding 14. The central character is member of Parliament Ivan Cooper, played by James Nesbitt, a Protestant who is looking for a peaceful solution to the troubles. If the accuracy of the film is to be believed, trigger-happy troops are the flashpoint for the violence, but in the larger sense, it is the British government's refusal to allow a peaceful march that is the mistake. Nesbitt, confronted with the carnage, makes a chilling speech to end the film, letting the British government know that they have "reaped a whirlwind."

Finally, Neil Jordan's The Crying Game, which was a cause celebre back in 1992. It was a flop in England, but caught on with audiences in the U.S. because Americans didn't care about the politics--they cared about the sex. Jordan uses the Troubles as a plot device, but this film isn't about that, really. Instead he compounds the differences between Protestants and Catholics by adding two layers to the mix--the British soldier that the IRA kidnaps is black, and of course, his "girlfriend," is actually a man. The film in essence becomes a love story between two men, whose differences make Protestant/Catholic seem trivial. Stephen Rea gives a terrific performance as the IRA volunteer with a conscience, and Jaye Davidson, who only appeared a few more times in films, is memorable as the person who gave the movie-going public quite a surprise.

Interestingly, in each of these films, the IRA are seen as a somewhat villainous entity, sort of like the Mafia is in the U.S. In In the Name of the Father, the actual Guildford bomber is briefly incarcerated with the Conlons. At first Gerry is enamored of him, but the man is ultimately revealed as blinded by hatred. In The Boxer, the IRA are seen as having internal fighting over the peace process, and one man in particular is also blinded by hatred, ordering a policeman to be killed. In Bloody Sunday the IRA are in the shadows. Nesbitt's character is keen that they keep their guns away from the march, but is told in no uncertain terms that that is none of his affair. In the end, Nesbitt says that the deaths of innocents are a victory for the IRA, because it will only recruit more young men. And in The Crying Game, Rea's character seeks to break away from the IRA, going into hiding, but is found by his former IRA compatriots, who tell him that he is never out, and force him to take part in more violence. From this sampling, it is clear that the artistic community of Northern Island have little use for the violence of the IRA, and were more interested in peace than vengeance.