| The Making of Bloody Sunday
By Tom Deignan
The powerful film Bloody Sunday could teach Northern Ireland politicians
a thing or two. Most importantly, that Irish Catholics and British Protestants
can indeed overcome their suspicions, work together and produce outstanding
results.
Bloody Sunday was produced by Mark Redhead and directed by Paul Greengrass, both British. Also on board was acclaimed Irish filmmaker Jim
Sheridan and his film company Hell’s Kitchen – the force behind Hollywood
Irish hits such as In the Name of the Father.
Bloody Sunday also would not
have been possible without co-producer Don Mullan, who was nearly shot by
British soldiers in Derry on January 30, 1972 – what came to be called Bloody
Sunday.
Decades later, Mullan wrote the groundbreaking book Eyewitness Bloody
Sunday. First published five years ago, Mullan’s book is based on eyewitness
accounts of that fateful day in Derry, which were ignored by British authorities.
Mullan’s book was ultimately instrumental in casting doubt on the official
British explanation of the civil rights march which eventually left 13 dead.
Mullan himself was standing just two feet from 17-year-old victim Michael
Kelly that day.
Still, Mullan is not angry that a British director was behind
the camera for Bloody Sunday. In fact, he believes the collaboration – which
also included using Derry residents as extras in the film – was instrumental
to the film’s success.
“I can honestly say that I found Paul Greengrass
and Mark Redhead to be two of the most honorable professionals I have ever
worked with. They are men of the highest integrity and, at the end of a
grueling process, when human flaws, irritations and idiosyncrasies can reveal
the true nature of a character, I can put my hand on my heart and say that
it was a privilege to work alongside them.”
Of course, there were disagreements
and inevitable creative differences, Mullan says.
“But there was never any
acrimony or distrust. We worked on the basis of respect and a determination
to ensure our project was rooted in integrity and truth.”
Mullan did say
there was some skepticism among families of Bloody Sunday victims, who were
also involved in the film.
“I brought Mark and Paul to Derry where I introduced
them to the Bloody Sunday families. Initially there was a trust issue. Very
honestly, many of the families told them that because they were English
and because of their experience with Lord Chief Justice Widgery in 1972,
they had fears and reservations. They would, however, feel more secure if
I was involved.”
But in the end, Mullan believes it was the cross-cultural
nature of the production team which made Bloody Sunday such a successful
film.
“Bloody Sunday is more properly described as a film made by two Englishmen
and an Irishman with immense support from Jim Sheridan’s Hell’s Kitchen,”
said Mullan. “It is the British-Irish dimension which makes this such a
powerful movie.”
As for both Redhead and Greengrass, having read Eyewitness
Bloody Sunday, they also knew it was critical to bring Mullan onto the movie
set.
“Almost our first action on commencing the development of the film
was to contact Don Mullan,” said Redhead. “Through his work, Don had developed
close relations with the families of the [Bloody Sunday] dead and wounded,
and he brought us together with them and helped win their support for the
film. We hoped that we would be able to include as many Derry people as
possible in the filming to bring the authentic voice of Derry into the film.”
Director Paul Greengrass also recalled the impact Mullan and his book had
on the production process.
“I picked up a book that my colleague, the producer
Mark Redhead, had been asking me to read for weeks. It was called Eyewitness
Bloody Sunday...As I turned the pages of Don’s book I could see the whole
scene in my mind’s eye,” Greengrass writes, in the introduction to a new
edition of Mullan’s book. “Running, shouting, fighting, screaming. The thump
of rubber bullets. And then suddenly – some thought almost immediately –
the awesome percussive sound of British Army SLRs firing live rounds. And
firing. And firing. And people dying. By the time I finished Eyewitness
Bloody Sunday I felt as if I myself was crouching in terror amidst the dust
and rubble of the Rossville Street barricade as the rounds echoed around
that godforsaken landscape. And I knew then I wanted to make a film about
Bloody Sunday.”
Perhaps what Bloody Sunday does best is combine harrowing
action sequences with intimate portraits of everyday life in the North.
On the action front, Greengrass’ film is as meticulous a reconstruction
of a single day as you are likely to see in any movie. The scenes are sometimes
so realistic, you might think Greengrass is just one of the many amateur
videographers who were there that day, who meant to record a little bit
of civil rights history, but instead captured bloodshed which was condemned
worldwide.
The action sequences in Bloody Sunday are shot in a herky-jerky
handheld style, as if the cameraman himself is dodging bullets.
But Bloody
Sunday is not simply an account of how brutal the British are, and how the
North’s Catholics are simply innocent victims. Some viewers may even be
put off by the depiction of British officialdom in the movie, from the officers
in their barracks to the “paras” on the street with their high-powered rifles.
True, some members of both of those groups all but announce their intention
to shed Catholic blood in Derry that day. But others, from a hesitant para
to an officer who struggles to somehow use only “minimum force” on the crowds,
can’t be dismissed as pure evil.
Greengrass said he wanted to make something
like a balanced view of the events of Bloody Sunday. He appears to have
done so. In the tradition of diverse films such as Medium Cool and The Battle
of Algiers, political filmmaking is rarely as gripping as the best moments
in Bloody Sunday.
Politician Ivan Cooper (played powerfully by James Nesbitt)
is clearly the heart and soul of Bloody Sunday. As played by Nesbitt, Cooper
(who was a Protestant) is an outgoing man with a common touch; he is a true
believer in his cause, yet he is also able to laugh at himself. He also, Greengrass makes a point of depicting, is utterly disdainful of the IRA,
and sees them as counterproductive. Cooper is a man who preaches in the
nonviolent tradition of Gandhi and Martin Luther King. (By the end of the
film, however, he understands that the British killings will only fill the
ranks of the IRA.)
Cooper is not the sole focus of Bloody Sunday. We also
see residents of Derry’s Catholic ghettoes on the evening before the doomed
civil rights march. They are young lovers, babysitters, and parents out
for a much-needed night on the town. Knowing what will occur the following
day, the simple things about these people and their lives become beautiful,
poignant and tragic.
That Mullan helped recruit Derry locals to play small
parts in the film only lends greater authenticity to this film. As does
the fact that there’s hardly any musical accompaniment. Greengrass’ powerful
imagery generally speaks for itself. And as tough as the violent scenes
in Bloody Sunday may be, even more heartbreaking is the quiet chaos of the
hospital where the dead, wounded and their families await life-or-death
news. It is up to Ivan Cooper to deliver the sad word to each family. It
had to be some of the toughest acting James Nesbitt has ever – and will
ever – do. As with most everyone else behind Bloody Sunday, Nesbitt comes
through powerfully.
|
