Kino Gaelach: 5 scannáin every Gael must watch

Cinema does not have to be an instrument of Anglicisation, but a means for our liberation.

The necessity of Gaelicising Irish cinema

The success of the Kneecap film this year demonstrates the potential and momentum of scannánaíocht as Gaeilge, along with the recent successes of An Cailín Ciúin and others in previous years. A long-awaited golden age of Irish-language cinema may await us, but it’s worthwhile appreciating the classic works of Gael’s cinematic consciousness before we move on to the inevitable blockbuster adaptations of An Rúraíocht agus an Leabhar Gabhála Éireann.

Mise Éire (1959) - George Morrison

When one thinks of making a Gaelic cinema list, there is simply no choice over whether to include Morrison's epic, which inaugurated the rise of the cinema of the Gaels. Celebrating the Éirí Amach na Cásca of several decades previous, it is the visual apotheosis of the mythic ‘old-Ireland’ boomers love to fear fearmonger young Gaels about. Overflowing with unabashed patriotism and nostalgia for its heroic footage, newsreel and imagery of that fateful week - provided vitally by Gael Linn's archives - it is a portal to a forgotten world.

It could be said it is more representative of the Aisling of what ‘16 promised, as opposed to the unrealised potential of what the early free state produced. Still, to fully establish a Gaelic and Free culture (including cinema), as Mac Piarais would have wanted, we must once again remember the dream upon which they were fighting for, the vision that did not come to pass. In that sense, Morrison's Mise Éire is to the Independence generation what The Cranberry's Zombie, Paul McGrath and the Toy Show Musical is to the denationalised and cultureless boomer generation.

Tríológ Bhéaloideas Éireann - Tomm Moore

For younger and more modern viewers definitely the most famous or immediately recognisable of the list is this fabulous trilogy of animated films on classic themes of our cultúr agus béaloideas dúchasach. Collected together, these works provide a perfect introduction to the cultural universe of the Gael.

The first work, Rún Cheannanais Mhóir (The Secret of Kells), contrasts the ancient mysticism of the Gaelic monks, best expressed in the titular book, with the barbarianism of the pagan Lochlannach. After that there is proper homage paid to pre-Christian vitalism which still lives within the soil and landscape of our nation, in Amhrán na Mara (Song of the Sea). Finally then, the most recent effort, Na Conriochtaí (Wolfwalkers) encapsulates the fighting spirit of the Gael against the degenerate Anglo-modernism of Cromwell..

In a sense, the three reflect the tripartite elite castes of Gaeldom: na druí (priestly), na filí (bardic) agus na fianna (warriors).

Song of Granite (2017) - Pat Collins

Though it may be slightly lesser known compared to some of the other titles I have included here, Collins’ meditative and Tarkovsky-esque tribute to the nation’s greatest sean nós singer, Seosamh “Joe” Ó hÉanaí, is a gentle triumph. Shot in a crisp but stark black and white, the film tells the story of Joe’s life from childhood to old age, with all the magic but also the challenges of having the gift of a perfect voice. It encapsulates the serene loneliness and detachment that comes all great artists, but specially the Gaelic bard. At once loved by all, and again forgotten and misunderstood.

It also helps that Collins’ direction and the film's crisp cinematography give the impression of a Gaelic Tarkovsky, which helps us imagine the totally unrealised potential of developing an arthouse cinema of the Gaels, unlike some of the more immediate crowd pleasures on this list.

Poitín (1978) - Roibeard Ó Cuinn

A much more raucous and controversial feature, but in no way underserving of its placement here. Ó Cuinn burst the lid on the image of cozy, nostalgic Éire Oifigiúil perhaps portrayed by the first film we discussed here in favor of a realistic representation of all the disorder and chaos that comes with such neglected communities as an Gaeltacht. Cyril Cusack's Michil is a classic character in Gaelic storytelling, echoing the vengefulness of Ó Direáin's Ó Mórna.

While not to everyone's tastes, the work is a necessary supplement to the insipid infantilisation of the Gaeltacht and rural Ireland that some Anglicised nationalists have, depicting the West as a quaint little province of hobbits - as in the hideously kitch ‘The Quiet Man’.

Arracht (2019) - Tomás Ó Súilleabháin

With all that being said, I think it's worth closing with a work which reminds the viewer why exactly much of the rural West has been so neglected in the modern Irish era. Ó Súilleabháin's harrowingly evocative depiction of An Góta Mór pulls no punches, depicting the brutality of what British occupation of our vital resources really looks like in a time of crisis. Watching, one is plunged into the Sisyphean task Dónall Ó Héalaí's Colmán and Saise Ní Chuin's Kitty have in attempting to live through such apocalyptic times. While obviously not anywhere near their level, the cosmic battle of the Gael against our modernity lives on, with emigration, anglicisation and homelessness still plaguing our next generations.

The tragedy of Gaeldom's fall, massively exacerbated by the 1840s, has largely been served its cinematic apex here. In going forward, one wonders whether we could help encourage pictures which are equally epic and visually powerful, but instead celebrate the triumphs of the Gael, such as the Battle of Clontarf or the culture's resurgence against the Normans in the 14th century. Other than simply honouring out oidhreacht, a visual representation of our nation at its best, on such a scale, could potentially salvage the soul of our civilisation and people more than a political programme or economic policy ever could.