Irish Wheelchair Drama Breaks Free
The Irish Rory O'Shea Was Here, directed by Damien O'Donnell, takes a tough subject and turns it into a bittersweet tale of youth.
When rebellious Rory O'Shea (sardonic James McAvoy) rolls his wheelchair into a Dublin home for the handicapped, he is loaded for trouble. With a shock of Billy Idol blond hair and a foul mouth to match, Rory is an unruly lad, to the chagrin of caretaker Eileen (Brenda Fricker), who strives to maintain order in the House of Misfit. O'Donnell, working with a limited scope from Jeffrey Caine's script, based on a story by Christian O'Reilly, peels Rory's character in layers, like an onion.
Immobility for Rory is bad enough without being caged like an animal. Afflicted with degenerative disease—he can barely move his head—he is all but abandoned at the home by his father, who has love but not the means to care for Rory. When Rory learns that he is able to understand what cerebral palsy patient Michael (Steven Robertson) is saying—no simple task, given Michael's garbled words—a bond develops.
Rapacious Rory, refreshingly angry, not sanitized with saintly sanctimony, dares timid Michael to lust for life, too, which means tasting forbidden fruits. Together, they play on people's sympathy to seek selfish pleasure with not one whit of guilt. O'Donnell spares us the usual doomed-life-of-the-party routine, instead throwing the world open to the young mates. Accents are hard to follow and the tone is as dark as an Irish pub but O'Donnell uses their friendship to good effect.
After Rory reveals Michael's politician father as the louse that he is, they wind up living in their own flat, with blonde nursemaid Siobhan (Romola Garai), who dances like she means it, dresses in skimpy nurse uniforms and gives a fine sponge bath. There are indignities to replace the sameness of the group home; brushing one's teeth is an achievement and storming off to bed is not an option, not when you need someone to help you into bed.
Rory learns that true independence does not mean living for the moment, while Michael experiences the flush of romance and arousal. You can practically feel his heart thumping as he sits beside the hired nursemaid while they flirt. Rory watches in consternation. When reality sets in, someone is hurt and it is a simple, moving resolution that transcends the stigma of being crippled. The liberation from handicapped living is muted. These men feel, think, judge, agonize and make choices—in lingering close-ups and straight shots.
Besides two strong male leads, Romola Garai is fetching as the nursemaid with a twinkle. She is sufficiently dreamy yet she's more efficacious than an old battleaxe and she knows it. The difference lies in her ability to treat disease as a fact of nature—not as a blank check on kindness.
A movie like Rory O'Shea Was Here, with confined characters, has to be careful not to overindulge in pity and propaganda. Director Damien O'Donnell resists the urge, placing friendship at the center of a picture that presents one sick, young man's life as the reason—the only reason—he is here.
DVD Notes
Though missing a booklet—why are studios chintzy with printed materials for DVDs?—the sincere Rory O'Shea Was Here gets a light, jazzy main menu on a single disc. It's the movie and a few deleted scenes, which include a jail sequence that reinforces Rory's refusal to be pitied, plus another superfluous scene.
An extended costume party scene gives Rory a brief, dramatic and unnecessary speech—intense James McAvoy as the title character is equally impressive in both of his extraneous scenes—and party guests dressed as Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy are allowed to lighten things up a bit more. Since the movie ends rather abruptly, an alternate ending goes farther but is also anti-climactic. This picture is worth seeing again.
When rebellious Rory O'Shea (sardonic James McAvoy) rolls his wheelchair into a Dublin home for the handicapped, he is loaded for trouble. With a shock of Billy Idol blond hair and a foul mouth to match, Rory is an unruly lad, to the chagrin of caretaker Eileen (Brenda Fricker), who strives to maintain order in the House of Misfit. O'Donnell, working with a limited scope from Jeffrey Caine's script, based on a story by Christian O'Reilly, peels Rory's character in layers, like an onion.
Immobility for Rory is bad enough without being caged like an animal. Afflicted with degenerative disease—he can barely move his head—he is all but abandoned at the home by his father, who has love but not the means to care for Rory. When Rory learns that he is able to understand what cerebral palsy patient Michael (Steven Robertson) is saying—no simple task, given Michael's garbled words—a bond develops.
Rapacious Rory, refreshingly angry, not sanitized with saintly sanctimony, dares timid Michael to lust for life, too, which means tasting forbidden fruits. Together, they play on people's sympathy to seek selfish pleasure with not one whit of guilt. O'Donnell spares us the usual doomed-life-of-the-party routine, instead throwing the world open to the young mates. Accents are hard to follow and the tone is as dark as an Irish pub but O'Donnell uses their friendship to good effect.
After Rory reveals Michael's politician father as the louse that he is, they wind up living in their own flat, with blonde nursemaid Siobhan (Romola Garai), who dances like she means it, dresses in skimpy nurse uniforms and gives a fine sponge bath. There are indignities to replace the sameness of the group home; brushing one's teeth is an achievement and storming off to bed is not an option, not when you need someone to help you into bed.
Rory learns that true independence does not mean living for the moment, while Michael experiences the flush of romance and arousal. You can practically feel his heart thumping as he sits beside the hired nursemaid while they flirt. Rory watches in consternation. When reality sets in, someone is hurt and it is a simple, moving resolution that transcends the stigma of being crippled. The liberation from handicapped living is muted. These men feel, think, judge, agonize and make choices—in lingering close-ups and straight shots.
Besides two strong male leads, Romola Garai is fetching as the nursemaid with a twinkle. She is sufficiently dreamy yet she's more efficacious than an old battleaxe and she knows it. The difference lies in her ability to treat disease as a fact of nature—not as a blank check on kindness.
A movie like Rory O'Shea Was Here, with confined characters, has to be careful not to overindulge in pity and propaganda. Director Damien O'Donnell resists the urge, placing friendship at the center of a picture that presents one sick, young man's life as the reason—the only reason—he is here.
DVD Notes
Though missing a booklet—why are studios chintzy with printed materials for DVDs?—the sincere Rory O'Shea Was Here gets a light, jazzy main menu on a single disc. It's the movie and a few deleted scenes, which include a jail sequence that reinforces Rory's refusal to be pitied, plus another superfluous scene.
An extended costume party scene gives Rory a brief, dramatic and unnecessary speech—intense James McAvoy as the title character is equally impressive in both of his extraneous scenes—and party guests dressed as Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy are allowed to lighten things up a bit more. Since the movie ends rather abruptly, an alternate ending goes farther but is also anti-climactic. This picture is worth seeing again.
