The word ‘alcohol’ is virtually synonymous with ‘Ireland’, and such stereotyping acts as a double-edged sword in some respects. On the one hand, the assumption that the Emerald Isle is a nation of drunks, alcoholics and general tipplers is not a particularly wholesome international image to peddle. On the other, it does wonders for the tourism industry, and without this international cultural perception, cinematic gems like The Irish Pub would be viewed by next to nobody.
A documentary concerned with, would you believe, the Irish pub, The Irish Pub focuses specifically on the the smaller, three generations of family-run types you’d usually find in old rural towns. The film features public houses from Mayo to Cork, Dublin to Donegal and everywhere in between, and cuts between interviews with the bar staff and their customers. The cast features a whole host of publicans, their aged clientèle, and whoever’s holding the camera. It’s directed by solicitor-turned-filmmaker Alex Fegan, who deserves congratulations for whatever epiphany he had to leave behind that particular profession.
Yes, as a documentary this is an informative movie. Various little tidbits of information are thrown around, from the astounding ages of the pubs as well as a plethora of amusing anecdotes. Did you know, for example, that a young Winston Churchill would roll marbles along the clay floors of Blackhorse Avenue’s ‘Hole in the Wall’? Fascinating factoids abound in this film, but they merely scaffold the conflicting yet effectively blended cocktail of melancholy and ever-so-slightly hopeful pessimism that runs throughout.
Publicans acknowledge that their trade is in decline, due to a combination of a downward-spiralling economy and a greater number of people choosing to drink at home instead. In addition to both their (generally) elder years and those of their similarly matured clientèle, they present a tangibly bleak outlook for their craft. That said, many describe the 80’s as a far worse period of decline, and the whole bunch collectively overcame that decade-long hurdle. A resurgence in cultural tradition nudges the negative clouds away somewhat, and according to them, the future is bright.
This counterbalance of wonder with woe is supplemented by some fabulous displays of wit. In delivering, the assorted staff prove that years of babbling from behind the bar honed their skills as storytellers; much like the film itself, the actual interviewees range in tone from articulate shoe-gazing to light-hearted wisecracking ; one particular barman from Cavan incites roars of laughter from the engaged audience.
A beautiful clarinet score underpins the whole movie, which at a mere 76 minutes long won’t eat up much of your time. The Irish Pub is one of those films that says a lot with relatively few words. Knowing full-well that its cast and their surroundings carry the film with ease, Fegan made an excellent decision to stand back let them do the talking. Go see it, and definitely head out for jars afterwards.
Simon says: this movie made me really happy. That never happens.