‘It’s not that I’m against story. I like films with stories’: Pat Collins on directing a tale without a plot | Film
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Wellor for most directors it would be an excruciating predicament: how do you translate to the screen a novel with no discernible plot in which nothing happens? John McGahern called his experimental masterpiece That they can face the rising sunabout a small rural Irish community, an “anti-novel” because of its rejection of conventional narrative.
“I thought the act of taking the drama out of it, if it was done consciously, could be dramatic in itself,” he told the Observer in 2005. “My whole idea was to take the plot and everything else out of the novel and see what was left.”
Nearly two decades later, Pat Collins transferred the book to the screen, and it turns out there was no dilemma, no temptation to deface the source text, no itch to smooth things over by smuggling plot or concocting drama.
In fact, the movie omits the most sinister character in the book, John Quinn, because he was too dark. “It would throw off the whole balance of the film,” says Collins. “In a book, with someone who’s kind of a brute, you have time to recover from that character. While it’s much more graphic in the movie, the character is up there on the big screen, and I think if John Quinn was there, people would be walking out of the theater talking about him, as opposed to the community around the lake. “
That crashing sound is Ridley Scott falling off a chair. He would expand the role, cast Paul Mezcal and make him shine from the posters. But if the Irish Film and Television Awards are any guide, Collins’ gamble paid off – last month won Best Picture.
In its meditative, hypnotic way, “They Can Face the Rising Sun” eschews not only Hollywood tropes, but traditional storytelling as well. “I used to say it would be very difficult to adapt into a film because of the nature of the book, but that was really the appeal of it,” says Collins. “You can try to do something that’s more distinct and original when you’re not following a very strict narrative.”
Set around 1980 and somewhat autobiographical, McGahern’s novel chronicles a year in the life of a couple who have moved from London to live on a farm amid a landscape of fields, lanes and ponds. Neighbors visit, seasons pass, life unfolds.
“There’s no one overarching narrative,” Collins says in a suitably accented video call from his home in west Cork. “It’s not that I’m against history. I like movies with stories, I like books with stories.”
Feature films face pressure to remove anything deemed outlandish from the main storyline, Collins says. “Everybody tells you, ‘This is irrelevant to the story, get rid of it, get rid of it, let’s get to the end as quickly as possible.'” I’m the opposite of that.
McGahern’s book demanded a different treatment, says Collins, who has made a name for himself with understated, elliptical documentaries. “It’s about the viewing experience and the atmosphere, the tone and the sense of immersion. It can be a bit disorienting at first, but after 40-50 pages, you realize you’re actually lost in it. It’s almost like you feel like you never want to finish the book, that you love the world of the book.”
Few seem better qualified to replicate this on film. Collins made a documentary about McGahern in 2005, a year before the writer’s death, and directed the 2013 drama based on ideas. Silence, about a recording artist who revisits his home on the remote island of Donegal. The Irish Times called Collins a “contemplative visual poet”.
Irish critics gave That They May Face the Rising Sun rave reviews, as did festival audiences in Santa Barbara and Gothenburg. “People were laughing at every joke in the movie and I was thinking, ‘God, it’s amazing how well it translates. I did not expect that.
He acknowledges comparisons with The quiet girl. “Maybe it has the same pace. Things are given in a way that you can think about them, rather than it being an assault kind of thing, which is like very modern cinema.”
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The Guardian the review gave three starspraising the poignancy and fine performances, but suggesting the film drew too close to the book: “This reserve means the drama borders on vague, with bravura camerawork out of bounds and sometimes timid characterization.”
Rural Ireland it was often thought of as monocultural, but in fact the communities were complex and diverse, including political conservatives, leftists and bohemians who found a creative outlet in amateur drama, says Collins.
“I think the film is about tolerance, about trying to find accommodation with your neighbors even if you don’t agree with them. This is something that is becoming increasingly rare in today’s world, especially with social media. It’s also about showing the villagers – such a loaded term – in all their humanity and complexity, he says. “This is an opportunity to give some of these people some dignity.”
McGahern’s novel is based on his experiences returning to live in County Leitrim with his American wife. When published in 2002, villagers speculated which neighbors might have inspired certain characters, but there were none of the turbochargers online chase that accompanies the Netflix series Baby Reindeer. The Irish have always been a bit wary of writers, says Collins. “Even going back to old Gaelic times, poets were kind of feared because sometimes they spoke too much of the truth.”
After making a silent film, Collins is pleased but also surprised by the hype and demands for publicity. “It’s a bit hard for me to focus.” He smiles. “I feel like running in the hills, to be honest.”
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