It’s exhausting.
Warning – slight spoilers for good (and bad) tv shows and movies ahead.
At first, I couldn’t believe it – but the sad truth is, I could. To set the scene, it’s 2024. I’m watching one of the biggest shows in recent years – Only Murders in the Building – as it progresses through its fourth season. I’m watching it on a streaming platform that allows me an abundance of media at my finger tips; movies, tv shows, documentaries – pieces of cinema that have barely left the silver screen and are now at my disposal (for a small but rising monthly fee).
We are living in the future, a time our grandparents could only dream of, if they could even bring themselves to imagine it. Surely we’re totally past the use of stereotypes, the use of cultural appropriation. Surely we know more than we used to.
That’s what goes through my mind when Paul Rudd appears on screen – while he appeared in Season 3, his story arc makes it so it should be quite impossible for him to show up in Season 4 – but that said, it’s undeniably exciting to see him. Then I realise he’s not the same character – for as much spoiler free context as possible, he is the stunt man of his character from the previous season – and this is abundantly clear because while the original character was undoubtedly American, this character is not. What is he instead, you ask? Through clear signaling, he’s supposed to be Irish – the flat cap, the Aran jumper, the obsession with drinking and fighting, and of course, the accent – but as with countless times before, it’s not exactly a painting of the modern-day Irish man.
I’m sorry to say that I gave this caricature the benefit of the doubt – this is a show full of red herrings and narrative misfiring – the bad accent must instead be a clue that all is not what it seems, something of an Easter egg for Irish viewers. What if this is the original character, pretending to be someone else? What if he’s watched too many bad “Irish” movies, and he’s exaggerating the accent – although the funny thing is Paul Rudd is an actor who is playing an actor in this role. Of course he knows better than this – Paul Rudd has been to Ireland and loved it, as so many do. So I waited. And waited. And waited for the proverbial penny to drop. You already know where this is going. It never does. By the end of the season, it’s clear that this was either the best Paul Rudd could do, or the director told him to “Irish” it up. Either way, it’s disappointing at best, and borderline offensive at worst.
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Hollywood’s Ireland – Looking through green-tinted glasses
We have all been there. We have all sat in a movie theatre, or the comfort of our own home, and sighed and groaned through one of those “quintessentially Irish movies”. Irish Wish was the most recent in 2024 – this absolute misfire of a film almost got away with it for being Lindsay Lohan’s return to movies, but her character explaining James Joyce is her favourite author rather put the nail in the coffin for me. There are so many Irish authors to choose from who would frankly have been more believable. Before that it was Wild Mountain Thyme in 2020, based on a play called Outside Mullingar and starring Northern Irish actor Jamie Dornan – there were a lot of reasons to have hope with this one, but that too was a big fat flop, complete with exaggerated Irish accents from all three leads, including Dornan. Before that it was Leap Year, and before that it was PS I Love You.
These movies are periodically made, and there’s part of me that doesn’t believe that’s on pure and simple ignorance, nor do I think it’s necessarily malicious. Is it instead that there is a comfort in expecting to see something, and getting just that? Is it really as harmful as we all say it is, when we actually hold some of these movies dear to us? And if we can see it’s supposed to be Irish so clearly, probably because there are Irish people who do wear Aran jumpers, wear flat caps, and may or may not like a pint here and there, are we just getting annoyed for nothing? Is it overly sensitive of us – the cultural equivalent of a teenager slamming the door and exclaiming, ‘No one understands me’?” Is it not just a way to set us apart so we’re recognisable to a global audience?
One might look at a film like The Banshees of Inisherin, or even In Bruges, both directed by Irish playwright Martin McDonagh, and both starring Irish actors Brendan Gleeson and Colin Farrell, and say they play into stereotypes. Does Banshees of Inisherin really look that different to Wild Mountain Thyme? Does In Bruges not lean into the stereotype that the Irish love to drink and they love to fight? Well, I guess we have to look at the context – who has created it, and do they understand what they’re doing, and does that matter to a degree?
Put it this way; in the case of Wild Mountain Thyme and Banshees of Inisherin, one is set in 1923, and one is set in the modern day… can you guess which is which? There lies the issue. Enter Dear Erin, our take on the Hollywood Irish film.
“I’m truly hoping this film is a serious piss take but I am not confident that it is…”
This ongoing issue of how Ireland is portrayed onscreen was something we tackled head-on in our recent campaign – Dear Erin. We produced a mock trailer packed with as many Irish stereotypes as we could think of shoved into an 80 second clip. The reaction was immediate – and revealing. A significant number of viewers believed it was a genuine trailer, which was our intention, but also speaks volumes about how entrenched these portrayals have become. Some laughed, recognising the parody, of the opinion it’s no big deal, while others expressed frustration or fatigue. But the range of responses underscored just how familiar – and unchallenged – these images of Ireland continue to be.
On one side of the fence, we saw comments such as:
“Ah lads, it’s grand. Think yer taking it a bit too literal. The whole point of films like this is that they are whimsical, romantic etc. Its not offensive. People just choose to be offended.”
“It’s not offensive. It’s kitsch… I don’t think we need to take ourselves so seriously as to take offence to this stuff.”
“Not offensive just awful.”
On the other side of the fence, there were more comments saying the likes of:
“Can we ban Americans from making any films about Ireland or the Irish?”
“This is genuinely verging on racism.”
“Typical stylised American view of the Oirish. Just awful claptrap and stereotyping. Very offensive.”
“We laugh, but if r/ShitAmericansSay has taught me anything, a great many of them still think Europe & Ireland is some backwards pre-industrial hovel anyway. Or indeed, Netflix slop like Irish Wish.”
Interestingly, one commenter pointed out how this is not just an Irish issue, saying:
“That’s nothing compared to all movies set in Italy, where you always hear mandolin even when they’re in the very centre of Milan…”
What both sides could agree on was that the movie looked terrible.
What makes Irish movies about Ireland so poignant – and why context is important
Maybe if Hollywood had successfully produced good Irish movies of nuance, we would allow them to play into stereotypes more – at least this way they could back it up with a wink, a nod, and a lift of a paddy cap. There’s something of a cosyness to this depiction of Ireland, green fields, and no proper roads, cottage core to the max. Everyone working on farms, no phone service, drinking pints of Guinness like they’re water. Trad music playing as we frolic down the cobble street paths, letters addressed using only people’s names and the country they live in.
Of course, the appeal is understandable. It’s why we love The Banshees of Inisherin so much. But Banshees is written in a way that takes these shades of Irishness and applies them to a deeper story. It’s a story that highlights the divides that open up between people when they are looking for peace – a movie set in the same year that the Irish Civil War ended, it deals with two friends who suddenly but catastrophically fall out, with violent consequences to themselves, and everyone around them. It takes recognisable elements of Irish life to say something very true about our history – it doesn’t use Dublin as a backdrop for a romantic comedy where the 30-something year old American protagonist’s favourite author is James Joyce, said as if he’s Jodi Picoult or Colleen Hoover (no offense Lindsay Lohan, or James Joyce for that matter, but that’s a stretch – even for a romcom).
The same goes for In Bruges – a film that certainly has its own politically incorrect moments – but despite being set in Belgium, it speaks powerfully to aspects of Irish identity and some of the deepest sources of historical shame. It deals with the idea of Catholic guilt masterfully, carefully unpacked by a playwright who knows how to symbolise such things with class and taste and humour. The idea that violence begets more violence, when Colin Farrell’s character accidentally murders a child waiting to go into confession after killing a priest who, we can imagine, has indeed done something terrible – this is a movie released just one year before the Ryan Report documenting systemic child abuse in the Catholic church – shows the cycle of abuse at its most devastating. Here, it’s essential to have characters who love to fight – they are hitmen after all – but it doesn’t imply that all Irish men are like this – in fact, the film largely has them both grappling with the reality of their work – as Gleeson says to Farrell “not everyone is cut out for it.”
Moving away from Farrell and Gleeson, Brooklyn shows that you can make a romance movie with Ireland at its core. Is this because it’s based on an Irish book? With the existence of movies like PS I Love You and Love, Rosie (based on the book Where Rainbows End), both film adaptations of Cecelia Ahern novels, it’s clear that without the right direction, things can quickly go off the rails. Brooklyn works because it is both based off an Irish novel, starring an Irish actor, and directed by an Irish director. It’s not to say it’s impossible to get something good from someone who isn’t Irish, but the layers and nuance tend to be non-existent, and instead we get these “obvious” signifiers of Irishness which come across as tacked on accessories, dressed up as character development and individuality.
What can be done?
Ultimately, there’s no real answer to this question. Can certain tropes and “stereotypes” be comforting and harmful all in one? Are the two mutually exclusive? So often the “Irish” movies created by Hollywood are romcoms, and so, it makes sense that they present Ireland in a certain way, to elevate this. Do they not also do this with New York, LA, do soaps not do this with the likes of Australia in Home and Away, where it is always presented as summer in Summer Bay? Maybe it isn’t totally harmful, but it is misleading, and mostly, I believe, unintentionally.
What I can say, what the island of Ireland can say, is that Hollywood can do better. Ireland can be shown as it is, Irish people can be shown how they are, and there’s still room for beauty, nuance, and authenticity on screen. Ever seen Normal People? There probably is no better on-screen version of Dublin that shows it for its reality and hardship, and also for its magic.
Hollywood has only scratched the surface of what modern Ireland looks like. Beyond misty hills and cosy clichés lies a vibrant, contemporary nation – young, diverse, creative, and globally connected. There are rich and complex stories to be told about our booming tech sector, multicultural communities, LGBTQ+ experiences, coastal resilience, political voice, creative economy, the housing crisis, ongoing sectarian conflict post-Troubles. And some of the most powerful of these stories we share at EPIC The Irish Emigration Museum – with 70 million claiming Irish heritage, there is an abundance of stories that deserve more of a platform, like Irish female pirate Anne Bonny, Irish surgeon James Barry, Wing Commander Spitfire Paddy, activist Eva Gore-Booth, the Ladies of LLangollen, to name but a few.
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Hollywood can do better, and we know this, because we’ve seen these amazing Irish movies for ourselves. There’s no shortage of them: The Wind That Shakes The Barley, In Bruges, Small Things Like These, An Cailin Ciuin, Belfast, Brooklyn, Kneecap, Sing Street, Calvary, The Banshees of Inisherin, Michael Collins (minus the dodgy Julia Roberts accent). And we’re not snobs, there is still the capacity to enjoy the likes of Leap Year and Irish Wish and Wild Mountain Thyme even for the bizarre film journeys that they are. We just don’t want people watching those movies and thinking that’s what Ireland is. We’re not just tired – we’re bored of seeing Ireland misrepresented in the same tired ways.
We keep saying that Dear Erin is the film we hope never gets made – the one-layer, stereotypical, tone-deaf version of Ireland that we dread – but maybe it could work, if told through a truly Irish lens. Maybe there is a film where Paddy and Erin can work things out.
If you’re after the true story of Ireland, EPIC The Irish Emigration Museum portrays the real narrative, and is full of incredible stories about the impact and resilience of the Irish people, and how incredibly talented we are as a nation. Let that be the talking point.
BOOK TICKETSHeader image by Kerry Brown via IMDB / Wild Mountain Thyme
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