The Swallow – Film Review
by Brian Merriman

Written and directed by Tadhg O’Sullivan
Starring Brenda Fricker and Juno

Funded by The Arts Council

Oscar winner Brenda Fricker is about to publish her memoir, ‘She Died Young: A Life In Fragments’, from Head of Zeus this month. This Oscar-winning actor (Best Supporting Actress for My Left Foot in 1989) has always held a special place in the Irish arts world, not just for the distinction she has brought to the sector, but for her own way of living her life as a neighbour and friend in Dublin 8.

Last year, The Swallow, a feature film by Tadhg O’Sullivan, was widely acclaimed at the Dublin International Film Festival. It now has a long-awaited general release to coincide with the release of the anticipated memoir. The film’s location in Co. Clare is breathtaking and perfect.

O’Sullivan, a well-known documentary maker, studies the land, sea, wildlife, flora, skyscapes and textures in great detail with his all-seeing camera. It is a visual treat that produces a vivid palette of colour and light throughout the 71 minutes.

It’s a poetic story. The isolated location and artist allows for a slow study of a time of personal deep reflection on what might have been. Fricker has a most expressive face, her sighs say a multitude and her physicality adds to the sense of the pace of this journey, through intimate memory and lost love.

O’Sullivan has a great musical soundtrack from opera to contemporary to underscore his visual portraits. This film is a personal study, one where Fricker not only feels at home but manages to forensically add value to the simplest of moments. Her solitude amidst the moving land and seascapes is ably supported by her dog Juno, who often conveys the warmth of their owner’s emotions, now being reflected upon as old photos, souvenirs and postcards prompt a recollection of a time and opportunity lost.

The underscore of Oscar Wilde’s timeless children’s story of The Happy Prince clarifies so much. The swallow epitomises the devotion, support, friendship and harmonic companionship that Fricker’s character now laments.  It also gives a gentle backdrop to the love that was once shared between these two women (a brief appearance by Sorcha Kenny).

The Swallow is a love story lost in the past, and perhaps a time when there were no words to properly validate it.

It is also a wonderful opportunity to allow us to see and be reminded of just how much Fricker relates to the camera. How she, too, can paint a character that emotes authentically when so few words are used. It is a real treat to see her in a fitting vehicle skilfully and carefully crafted by the art of O’Sullivan.

The Swallow can only further encourage us to read the actor’s memoir when it is published, as the character of the isolated artist appears to be at one with Fricker herself.  It’s a quiet cinematic love story whose mellowness lingers long after the cinema lights illuminate.