Sometimes the best of things end up in the weirdest of places. This VCD set surfaced in my domestic helper's collection, she having obtained it from her previous employer. Nevertheless, K-9 and I decided to catch it last night, the premise of it all being interesting and a cast that could be relied on to deliver a good performance.
This is fact and not fiction, being based on the memoirs by Frank McCourt. The memoirs themselves supposedly make for a good read and that's on my reading list for this month definitely. Frank, born in a poor family in Brooklyn in 1930, during the heights of the depression, is forced to do a reverse-migration along with his members back to Limerick, Ireland,, his native land. Ireland gets no better. Frank's father, Malachy Sr, relinquishes control of his life to pints of Guiness, condemning his family to an existence which makes the 7 levels of Hell seem like a Vegas playland.
The movie tackles issues aplenty. Life in pre-war Europe, literally the dark years, alcoholism, extremeties of the Catholic-Protestant divide, the hypocrisy of it all, the blind faith of people living then (which exists till today), extreme levels of male chauvinism (if you happened to be a female married to an incapable alcoholic, god bless your soul, for feminism didn't exist as yet and you'd be condemned to an existence of pittances acquired through someone's charity. For the factory was NO PLACE FOR A WOMAN). How anyone could accept this without an opinion is unfathomable, for the lady was immensely stronger emotionally than her significant other, had her head on her shoulders and displayed enormous levels of courage during those dark years. Trying to make ends meet and raise up a bunch of rugrats on pittances is no walk in the park, especially when society clamps down on you hard on the basis of gender inequality and you have a spouse who is MORE than content to drink away his rather rare wages, the dole money and charity, refusing a single moment of sobriety that would hit him hard with a dash of reality. Malachy Sr, no doubt, was an inept spouse and father. Oh and lets not exclude the church in this one, with confessions and prayer supposedly being the only path to salvation. Okay so your soul gets salvaged post-mortem, but who's to be responsible for the immediate needs of the kids? Sure Christ could convert stone to bread, but if you can't do likewise, there isn't a point in being obsessed with an individual who expired 2 millenia ago! Inspite of having the power to obliterate entire cities today, we still choose to give credit to a faceless entity for every single event, be it good or bad. How weak!!??
Amidst all these social constraints (and horseshit may I add) which relegate humans to 'subterranean' levels even animals wouldn't accept, we see hope in the form of Frank 'Frankie' McCourt. Looking to make that crossing across the Atlantic once again, the 'Statue of Liberty' promising to liberate him from his hellish confines. The transition of an individual from boy to man, albeit subtle, could never have been better translated on screen.
Suckers of history would love this one. And why not? Nothing could paint a better picture than someone's memoir (though there is an inherent risk of exaggerations and half-truths), it is a good foray into that period nonetheless.
Emily Watson and Robert Carlyle are in this one, with an outstanding portrayal of their characters. If the historical context of it all doesnt appeal, watch it simply for their superior acting and excellent direction by Alan Parker. Better still, get the book if you can!
*peace*
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