In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias, they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love — they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock. This famous quote from Harry Lime in The Third Man (1949) comes to mind when considering Ireland's output of film and television in recent decades. Cursed by the violence and division of its history, the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland combined have produced more than their share of fascinating fare.
From Drama to Comedy
On film, that history has inspired heavily dramatic work such as Angela's Ashes (1999) or Jim Sheridan films like In the Name of the Father (1993) and My Left Foot (1989). But lately, Irish comedy — angry, ironic, and absurd — has tended to shine through the preceding gloom. This is especially evident in the recent Netflix series How to Get to Heaven from Belfast from writer-producer Lisa McGee. Funny, yes, but this eight-part comedy-mystery is pitch-dark around its edges.
The Plot Thickens
Three childhood friends — Saoirse (Roisin Gallagher), Robyn (Sinéad Keenan), and Dara (Caoilfhionn Dunne) — are drawn together after hearing of the untimely death of their old schoolmate Greta (Natasha O'Keeffe). They share a ride to crash the family's wake, but when Saoirse actually sees the deceased, she realizes the corpse is not Greta. Since Greta's husband is the top cop in the community, Saoirse is at a loss on how to proceed, except to return to the scene of a crime from the quartet's school days that haunts them all. Saoirse, who happens to be the showrunner of an Irish mystery series, opts to turn detective herself, enlisting the help of Liam (Darragh Hand), a constable who arouses more than Saoirse's sleuthing instincts.
It is a compelling mystery, encompassing a missing investigative reporter, a fiendish nun, and a formidable hit woman named Booker (Bronagh Gallagher, known from The Commitments) apparently working for a secret organization. In its own Irish spirit, the darkness does not get in the way of a good time. Keenan's Robyn is a formidable character, a woman who brings ferocious mom energy to every challenge. But Dunne's Dara may be the show's comedy MVP, in a subtly poignant turn as a woman challenged by reconciling her Catholicism with her lesbianism.
Lisa McGee's Signature Style
One would expect nothing less of Lisa McGee, who made her reputation with the sublime three seasons of Derry Girls (2019-2022, also on Netflix). Set in the 1990s with an accompanying period-friendly soundtrack, it too follows a group of young women coping with issues institutional, social, and familial. While the Troubles are manifest in their lives — such as suffering the indignity of passing through British checkpoints or dealing with an IRA member hiding in the boot of the family car — much of the girls' time is spent on more age-appropriate concerns, such as sneaking off to a concert, meeting boys, or in the case of Nicola Coughlan's character Clare, coming out as a lesbian.
Presumably, it is the character of Erin (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) who is McGee's proxy, a young woman with literary aspirations. Jackson's performance is unerringly hilarious. Though the time and setting are specific, anyone who was ever a teenager could understand Erin's default setting of personal outrage in the face of injustices both significant and trivial. Erin does not differentiate much. It was a pleasure to see Jackson take on a role in How to Get to Heaven from Belfast, although in a role profoundly different from Erin.
