“This is not a tourism-friendly film,” laughed Irish actor-writer-director John Connors when he introduced the world premiere of his debut dramatic feature to a packed audience at Oldenburg Film Festival. Indeed, The Black Guelph is miles removed from the marketable Celtic cliches that have helped boost Irishness into a global brand. This is gritty urban epic about inter-generational trauma, poverty, drug addiction, sexual and physical abuse, with an undertow of political rage at the Irish government and Catholic church elites who conspired to cover up decades of crimes against vulnerable children,
So far, so bleak. But The Black Guelph is also a gripping crime thriller, an acutely well-observed social drama and a stirring plea for empathy in cruel times, all driven by a high-calibre ensemble cast. Connors and his team have taken painful subject matter and made it feel humane, heartfelt and often surprisingly funny. The director cites Ken Loach and Martin Scorsese as important inspirations. There are echoes of other actor-driven personal passion projects here too, notably Gary Oldman’s Nil by Mouth (1997) and Peter Mullan’s The Magdalene Sisters (2002). Impressively, this indie production was shot in just 21 days in the middle of Covid lockdown, with rigorous testing that consumed a third of its modest budget, yet it still has the glossy finish of a mainstream feature.
Given its emotive and still-raw back story, heart-tugging script and slam-dunk performances, The Black Guelph should find a healthy audience beyond the festival circuit, despite a few possible stumbling blocks. Named after a political faction in medieval Italy which fiercely defended papal power, that obscure title will be a tough sell, while the thick Dublin accents and slang-heavy dialogue may confound some viewers. In Oldenburg, even this English-language dialogue came with English subtitles, a sensible solution for non-Irish audiences.
Best known in Ireland as an award-winning actor, often in underworld gangster roles, Connors is also a high-profile public advocate for his native Irish Travellers community, one of the most disadvantaged and marginalised ethnic groups in Europe. The Black Guelph draws heavily on the struggles of this deprived underclass, which was disproportionately affected by the notorious “industrial schools” set up across Ireland to deal with orphaned and neglected children, many of which became church-run hotbeds of child abuse. One of these abandoned schools becomes a heavily symbolic key location in the film, where former victim Dan (Paul Roe) returns almost half a century later to try and make peace with the horrors he endured there at the hands of a diabolical priest, portrayed in hazy flashback by Kevin Glynn.
But the main dramatic engine of The Black Guelph is Dan’s grown-up son Canto (an intense, kinetic performance from Graham Earley), the boss of a gang of small-time drug dealers on a deprived housing estate. As father to a young daughter, with another baby on the way, Canto is under pressure to go straight and get a legal job from his long-suffering partner Leah (a magnetic, turbo-swearing, eye-rolling Laura Larkin), who has banned him from their apartment after too many broken promises. But before he can contemplate leaving crime behind, Canto needs to clear his unpaid debut to ruthless drugs kingpin Ryan (a coolly sadistic portrayal by Connors himself).
Dan is back in Dublin after decades in exile to finalise his compensation claim for childhood abuse, agreeing to the “blood money” pay-off through gritted teeth as well-spoken lawyers berate and patronise him. He also hopes to reconnect with his estranged son decades after abandoning him. “Don’t do what I did,” he pleads to Canto. “Don’t take the coward’s way out.” Coincidentally, for different reasons, both Dan and Canto become entangled with emotionally damaged single mother Beatrice (Denise McCormack) and her autistic 18-year-old son Virgil (Tony Doyle). These fragile side-plots end badly in heartbreak, violence and ruin. Toxic masculinity takes many forms, as wounded fathers pass their pain down the generations,
The Black Guelph riffs on familiar crime-thriller beats and social-realist conventions, occasionally veering into melodramatic cliche. The baggy, repetitive plot also feels a little bloated at over two hours. But this is a less formulaic and more layered film that it first appears. After all, it opens with a quote from Dante’s Inferno, which party inspired the screenplay’s dark ruminations on illicit, uncontrolled lust. Most of the key character names pay winking homage to Dante – Beatrice, Virgil, Canto etc.
Music is a rich presence in the film too, from bursts of Dublin gangsta rap to Celtic folk-rock to ethereal Gaelic choral singing, The use of sound design is particularly strong, with distorted vocal effect lending extra menace to the nightmarish flashback scenes. Above all, the performances are uniformly excellent, with the compelling texture of documentary naturalism at times. Connors knows these people, these streets and these emotional scars intimately.
As it gathers to its grim conclusion with the inevitability of Greek tragedy, The Black Guelph becomes a quietly furious critique of power, corruption and lies among Ireland’s elites, from the police to the church to the upper echelons of government, Connors initially tried to finance his film through the official Irish funding bodies, but he claims it was rejected as the wrong film at the wrong time. That certainly resonates with the story’s depiction of shameful cover-ups, victim-blaming and legal gagging orders. The Irish state;s official scheme offering financial compensation for survivors of clerical sexual abuse was actually closed down in 2011, despite warnings that hundreds of victims would miss out on any redress. Connors dedicates his film to “all those who still suffer in silence”.
Director: John Connors
Cast: Graham Earley, Paul Roe, Tony Doyle, Denise McCormack, Laura Larkin, John Connors, Kevin Glynn, Casey Walsh
Screenwriters: John Connors, Tiernan Williams
Cinematography: Carl Quinn
Editing: Tiernan Williams
Music: Daniel Doherty
Producers: Tiernan Williams, Maria O’Neill
Production company, world sales: Cluster Fox Films (Ireland)
Venue: Oldenburg International Film Festival
In English
125 minutes
