 
  Review by
        Eric Hillis
  Directed by: Pat Collins
  Starring: Barry Ward, Anna Bederke, Philip Dolan, Lalor Roddy,
    Sean McGinley, Brendan Conroy
 
  
      "There's not much drama, more day to day stuff."
    
    
      That's how the central figure of
        That They May Face the Rising Sun attempts to describe the
        book he's currently writing. It's a statement that could sum up director
        Pat Collins' film, an adaptation of the final novel of
        John McGahern. This is a film almost completely devoid of the
        sort of elements screenwriting gurus insist are essential. There's
        practically no conflict and the biggest drama comes when two old men
        reenact a scene from The Playboy of the Western World. It's about the
        simple joy of living day to day, of friends drifting in and out of your
        life and your kitchen, of being content with your lot. It's
        beautiful.
    
    
      Set in pre-Celtic Tiger rural Ireland, the film will likely draw
        comparisons with recent Irish films like
        The Quiet Girl
        and
        Lakelands, but the contemporary film it has most in common with is Jim
        Jarmusch's
        Paterson. Like that film it's centred on a quiet man with literary pretensions
        who lives with a beautiful and artistic foreign wife in a community that
        looks up to him. Such are the similarities, I wonder if Jarmusch read
        McGahern's novel.
    
    
      Joe (Barry Ward) and Kate Ruttledge (Anna Bederke) met in
        London, where the latter worked as an assistant to an art gallery owner.
        They left the hustle and bustle of the English capital to begin a new
        life in the west of Ireland, making a fist of running a small farm while
        Kate remains in her role, making monthly trips to London. Joe has had
        modest success with a previous novel and is in the process of trying to
        fashion a followup. His inspiration comes from the people who wander in
        and out of his life, who make up the film's supporting cast, all played
        by aging men and women who possess the sort of beautifully craggy faces
        we see on screen too rarely.
    
    
      Like Paterson, Collins' film is largely composed of vignettes, most of which involve
        some neighbour popping in for a chat with Joe and Kate, or Joe similarly
        checking in with one of his elderly neighbours. There's Jamesie (Philip Dolan), a local farmer and the town gossip, who walks in a right shoulder,
        left foot fashion which gives him the appearance of an inquisitive duck.
        There's Patrick (Lalor Roddy, quickly becoming one of my
        favourite character actors), a cantankerous old duffer who seems skilled
        at everything from carpentry to laying out the dead. There's Bill (Brendan Conroy), an intellectually challenged man whose life was damned by the stigma
        of being born out of wedlock in Catholic Ireland. There's Jamesie's
        brother Johnny (Sean McGinley), who occasionally returns from
        England, where he works a demeaning job cleaning toilets in a car
        plant.
    
    
      The interactions veer from kindness to cruelty, from withholding
        emotions to spitting them out as though trying to quash a fire. Joe acts
        as a neutral party observing the tos and fros of men who have known each
        other for longer than he's been alive. He's like Patrick Kavanagh's poet
        watching life pass him by on the Inniskeen Road, but unlike Kavanagh's
        narrator, there's no bitterness here. Joe doesn't feel like he's missing
        out on anything. In his eyes he has it all: a woman he loves, a home in
        a picture postcard landscape and work that satisfies him.
    
    
      The closest the film comes to introducing conflict is when Kate's uncle
        (John Olohan) arrives from London with the news that he is
        planning to retire from running the family gallery and that it can only
        remain in operation if Kate returns to London. Kate is given until the
        following May to make a decision, and as the narrative ticks off
        Christmas and New Year's Eve we grow apprehensive that Joe's idyllic
        life might come to an end. Being an Irish male and thus terrified of
        conflict, Joe naturally avoids broaching the subject with his wife, but
        it occupies his thoughts and finds his way into his book, which morphs
        into an elegy for a life he expects to soon expire.
    
    
      The film itself is an elegy to a disappearing Ireland, to a time when
        ambition was for those who left, while those who remained found either
        contentment or madness. It's a film about pausing to take it all in,
        whether it be the way the slats of a half-constructed outhouse frame the
        sky or the first spring warbles of a distinctive songbird. Collins
        bookmarks his scenes with images of the Irish countryside that are so
        beautiful you'd happily gaze at them for the remainder of the film. But
        this film is all about its human characters, and how wonderfully human
        they are. We fall in love with every one of them, even those who can't
        love themselves. We listen to their bad jokes, their expressions of
        hope, their confessions of regret. We watch as Joe and Kate glance at
        one another during someone else's monologue, and we admire how easily
        they can sit in the shared silence of a love that doesn't need verbal
        validation. We're touched by all of it.
    
     
      
      That They May Face the Rising Sun is on UK/ROI VOD now.
    
    