Monday, March 16, 2009

Kiss Me. I'm Irish?

"Do you not get it, lads? The Irish are the blacks of Europe. And Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland. And the Northside Dubliners are the blacks of Dublin. So say it once, say it loud: I'm black and I'm proud."

Though I'm sure there are residual traces of it somewhere deep in the depths of my genetic make up, I'm not Irish. However, like every one else in this nation--heritage be damned--I'll be celebrating that hallowed saint. We've all appropriated the holiday to our own whims (much like the Welsh born St. Patrick was appropriated by the Irish themselves). An excuse to let loose has emerged.

As many might be able to deduce from the opening quote, my own little homage to the snake eradicator is one of film. Though I don't really hold a candle to my cinematic friend Bjorn Schey over at HBH, I'm going to give a small run down of my favorite Irish movies. My criterion is minimal. First, the film must have a plot line that in some way centers around Irish identity. Second, and in many respects the most important factor, the film must be great.

Though they are vastly different, there are five films that loom largest for me. Without further ado, here is my top 5:

There is, in my mind, one director that stands above any other in the annals of Irish cinema--Jim Sheridan. Perhaps it shows my shortsighted and uninformed nature to state this but his oeuvre does more to convince than my words could. He's been nominated for six Academy Awards. I'm not so simple to think that that alone is convincing enough but I would suggest any of his "Irish" movies to anyone and feel confident they would come back a believer. However, there are two that stick out above the others for me. 5) My Left Foot--powerhouse performance by Daniel Day-Lewis and 4)In America--an endearing tale of a family of Irish immigrants trying to make it in America.

Nestling itself in the middle of the pack at number 3 is Bloody Sunday. No issue is as attached to Ireland as much as the long fight for independence in Northern Ireland. This particular movie depicts a famously gruesome page in the long, strife filled history of that struggle. Like I mentioned at an earlier date to some folks who know of my disdain for the front man of U2, "even with Bono wailing over the ending credits, this film packs a serious punch." This Paul Greengrass directed film uses a documentary style to bring the viewer into the film, to authenticate the material to the viewer, and thus elicit every last ounce of emotion out of the audience. It works.

At a very close second is The Wind That Shakes the Barley. A Ken Loach directed film dealing with the Irish War of Independence and subsequent Irish Civil War, it won the Palm d'Or at Cannes in 2006. Known for his socialist views, Loach, for many, is as much a social and cultural commentator as he is a filmmaker (Raining Stones, A Fond Kiss, etc). Though he had never done a "historical" film, Mr. Loach certainly did not shy away from the sensitive material. His unflinching honesty imbues the movie with both gritty realism and transcendent beauty. In short, it mimics life in all it's brutal and sobering glory.

While most of the above movies deal with serious topics, my favorite Irish movie of all time is a humorous one. Though it is easy to dismiss humorous movies, it would be unwise to do so with this particular film. So often humor is created at the expense of realism. This phenomenon seems to have only grown in recent memory with the onslaught of absurdist humor at the box office. However, The Commitments achieves both social realism and genuine laughter.

Unemployment Official
: Mr. Rabbitte, you've been collecting unemployment benefit for two years. Are you trying to tell me you can't get a job?
Jimmy Rabbitte: We're a third world country - what can you do?

This award winning film from the early 90s was directed by Alan Parker. It shows the harsh realities of Irish life (i.e., low living standards,unemployment) with acerbic wit. It's rife with some of the most intelligently hilarious quotes to grace a cinema (for those that didn't know, the opening quote is from the film). It's protagonist is Jimmy Rabbitte, an aspiring (and unemployed) young man seeking to create a soul band out of a rag tag group of Dublin misfits. Despite the great music they create, the end result wasn't what Jimmy Rabbitte wanted but like The Lips reminded him, "This way it's poetry."

And like the movie itself, there is a sense of that "poetry" attached to our perception of the Emerald Isle. Jimmy encapsulated Ireland. Despite the oppression, despite the economy, despite whatever ills might be tossed their way, the Irish are able to lift themselves "above the shite." With all that goes on in this world, an elevating disposition is a nice asset...So go ahead and kiss me. Damn straight I'm Irish.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Just Look What Thoughts Will Do

I've always been amazed at how much dedication people have for certain things. Whether it is fighting poverty in Appalachia, defending human rights in repressive lands, obsessively rooting for a team, planning parties, or simple participation in a church, there is always someone deeply involved. I'm not amazed at what they are dedicated to, just the dedication itself.

My amazement at this dedication stems from my own self-consciousness. Ironically, I think it also has a correlation to my previously stated issues with bumper stickers. Though I didn't exactly get deep into an explanation, a large (and perhaps silly) issue I have with bumper stickers is the perception it creates in others. I don't mean the perception having bumper stickers creates, but the statements they make. Perhaps it is ridiculous, but I feel that having a bumper sticker inadequately defines me as a person. And that people would incorrectly reach assumptions about me because of a bumper sticker I may display.

Of course I see the absurdity in worrying about what other people think or assume. Assumptions will be made no matter what. Refusing to display a bumper sticker isn't going to change that fact. It's my own neurosis rearing its mighty head once again.

The correlation with dedication is my own reluctance to be "involved" in things. Going even deeper, I worry that perhaps I'm afraid to invest myself too much...to open myself up to something outside my personal sanctuary. I'm not sure where or why, though. It certainly hasn't always been like this.

Involvement is a comfort. Fervent devotion to something larger than yourself, no matter the forum--religious, sporting, or political--is reassuring. We sense our own inadequacy, which is why we derive a sense of worth by putting so much into things we see as larger than ourselves.

Though I doubt I'll be slapping any bumper stickers on Golden Boy any time soon, I'm slowly figuring out how to allow myself to be involved. I'm slowly learning how to differentiate between things of consequence and those that are petty and inconsequential, particularly those good for nothing self-conscious thoughts. Like the Red-headed Stranger said, "watch those thoughts, they'll get you down."