THE EMERALD ISLE

By: Kenji

Céad Mile Fáilte!

A beautiful island. Here’s to the Ring of Kerry, the Cliffs of Moher (above), the 12 Pins in Connemara, Funghi the dolphin at Dingle and the miniscule bearded man in green velvet smoking a pipe on the fence at Cleggan in Connemara who doffed his hat to me with a twinkle in his eye and then was gone. Ah ha, but i took his photo just in time! And so, i’ve cruelly retained a certain power with the little folk, but rest assured, having come to know their charming ways, i’ve desisted from reproducing it for public astonishment.

The first cinema in Ireland (the Volta) was opened in 1909. Ireland has had the highest rate of cinema admissions in Europe; whether this continues with the sickness of the one-time Celtic Tiger economy remains to be seen..

Cinema of Ireland

This list is of notable Irish-set films by both native and non-Irish directors

Not on this site:

Flight of the Dove
The Hangman’s House
The Rising of the Moon
The Shamrock Handicap

The Quiet Man, the popular romance in lovely Connemara surroundings, albeit with morre than a hint of the Oirish blarney and foitin spirit.

With its Irish subject matter i’m includuing the Belgian/co-production animation The Secret of Kells

In Bruges involves Irish protagonists but i’m unsure whether it fits here

and some filmed in Ireland, though set elsewhere:

Excalibur
Henry V (Olivier)
Braveheart
Saving Private Ryan

Juanita Wilson is a promising director, whose short The Door was filmed in Ukraine, while her feature As If I’m Not There is set in the former Yugoslavia.

The Secret of Roan Inish, a charming magical tale

“Experimental Film Society is an independent, not-for-profit film production company specialising in avant-garde, independent and no/low budget filmmaking. It was founded in 2000 in Tehran, Iran. Its aim is to produce and promote films by its members. Experimental Film Society unites works by a dozen filmmakers scattered across the globe, whose films are distinguished by an uncompromising, no-budget devotion to personal, experimental cinema. Experimental Film Society is responsible for rescuing and preserving many of its members’ films, which otherwise might have been lost forever. All the materials and films in this society are original and had made by EFS filmmakers. The current office of EFS is in Dublin, Ireland”

My lists on neighbouring Celtic countries: Bonnie Scotland and The Welsh Connection.

Suggestions welcome.

The Dead (John Huston’s classy and respectful final film)

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BEYOND FILMS:

here’s a French song about an area i love, Connemara (where The Quiet Man was filmed)

Ireland has produced a wealth of literary greats: Joyce, Yeats, Wilde, Shaw, Swift, Heaney, Beckett…

“A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.” (James Joyce, The Dead)

W.B.YEATS: THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

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The Durable Mike Malloy