The Dead (1987)

midnight, Saturday, RTÉ One “One by one, we’re all becoming shades”

One of two truly outstanding Irish lms made by American directors (John Sayles’ The Secret of Roan Inish being the other), The Dead was veteran director John Huston’s nal lm and he couldn’t have wished for a more sublime swan-song. Based on Joyce’s long short story, The Dead chronicles the events at a Dublin party thrown by the Misses Morkans, the “three Graces of the Dublin musical world”, to mark the Feast of the Epiphany in 1904. Through this commonplace gathering, Joyce (and now Huston) explores universal themes of love, longing and loss. The action unfolds through the eyes of Gabriel Conroy, steadfast nephew of the Morkans, brilliantly brought to life by the great Donal McCann.

As the evening unfolds, Gabriel is forced to re-evaluate his relationship with his wife, Gretta (Anjelica Huston). This is never more evident than when, in a moment of epiphany, Huston is trans xed by the singing of The Lass of Aughrim and transported back to her youth and a doomed young suitor, Michael Furey (“I think he died from me”). Though McCann and Huston are the stand-outs,

The Dead is a triumph of ensemble acting with each character more richly layered than the next. These include Dan O’Herlihy’s “gentleman of the other persuasion”; Rachael Dowling’s overworked housemaid; Marie Kean’s long-su ering widow; Frank Patterson’s preening tenor and, best of all, Donal Donnelly’s inebriated Freddy Malins (“I never heard you sing so well”). Listen out for Sean McGlory’s rendition of a Lady Gregory poem.That’s Huston’s touch, not Joyce’s, and it’s memorable. The Dead is a beautifully acted, beautifully shot think-piece which will linger long in the memory.