Latest news with #IrishEmigrationMuseum
The Guardian
24-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Fiddle-laden fake trailer reignites debate about Hollywood's Irish stereotypes
A man in a bar with a flat cap, bloodied knuckles and a dreamy look lays down his whiskey and writes a letter. 'Dear Erin,' he begins, and a soundtrack of fiddles swells as he yearns for his lost love in the distant land of America. The trailer for the upcoming film – tagline: 'she was the Irish goodbye he never forgot' – ran in recent weeks in cinemas and online and was accompanied by a poster showing green mountains, shamrocks and a rainbow. For many, it was Hollywood's latest affront to Ireland. 'What did we Irish people ever do to you to deserve this?' said one social media post. 'Christ could they not find a leprechaun to complete cliche bingo,' said another. Some sought solace in sarcasm: 'I think they nailed it. I'm always in the pub in the 1910s writing love letters to American girls with my big dirty fingernails. Finally I feel seen.' Last week came the twist: Epic, the Irish emigration museum in Dublin, revealed it had made the trailer and that the film, titled Dear Erin, did not exist. The trailer was a stunt to lampoon the stereotyping of Ireland in Hollywood romcoms such as Wild Mountain Thyme, Irish Wish, Leap Year and PS I Love You. 'It was time to call it out,' the museum said in a statement. 'We created a trailer for a film that we hope never gets made, and filled it with all of the tired, cliched portrayals of Irish people often seen in Hollywood movies.' Colonial-era stereotypes of the Irish as fist-fighting drunks or hopeless romantics persisted in contemporary films, warping perceptions of a complex, multilayered society, Aileesh Carew, the museum's director and chief executive, said in an interview. 'If you don't know anyone from Ireland then these films may be your only reference point.' The trailer features the actor Peter Coonan sporting shamrocks on his lapel and surrounded by empty beer glasses as his voiceover reminisces about meeting Erin: 'I have played that night over in my head more times than the Finnegans fought the O'Malleys.' The goal was to mimic a studio publicity campaign while cramming in every conceivable cliche, said Carew, adding: 'Potatoes, we forgot the potatoes.' Hundreds of thousands of views on TikTok and LadBible, along with the response on Instagram, Reddit and other platforms, showed the campaign had hit a chord, said Carew. Before the reveal, some commenters guessed that the trailer was a spoof, while others begged that it be so. 'Must be a joke here somewhere,' said one. 'Sweet Jesus no please. This should be called Dear God No! not Dear Erin.' The Hollywood stereotypes dated from the 1930s when gangster films featured Irish characters who were menacing thugs or comic relief drunks, but invariably seedy, said Dr Sian Barber, a film studies lecturer at Queen's University Belfast. 'Irishness was something foreign but also comforting. It was not done with any malice but it quickly became embedded in Hollywood consciousness.' Sign up to This is Europe The most pressing stories and debates for Europeans – from identity to economics to the environment after newsletter promotion Irish people, and tourism authorities, at times colluded in this romanticisation, said Barber. 'It offers this beautiful image of unreality which is welcoming and friendly. It's playing to this tourist idea of what Ireland can offer – the landscape, the loveable rogue.' John Ford's 1952 film The Quiet Man set a template of sorts by sending John Wayne's character back to his homeland to find a wife, whom he ends up dragging through fields, but its rural setting reflected much of Irish life at that time, unlike more recent fare that suggests society still revolves around sheep, donkeys and Guinness. Irish critics howled – in mirth and agony – at the whimsy and dodgy accents in the likes of Wild Mountain Thyme, a 2020 romcom starring Jamie Dornan and Emily Blunt, and Irish Wish, a 2024 vehicle for Lindsay Lohan. The main problem was not inaccuracy but lack of context, said Paudie Holly, a storyteller at Dublin's National Leprechaun Museum. Folklore can and should be celebrated, and there was no reason to feel shame about Ireland's rural past, but modern Ireland was different, he said. 'It's ridiculous to suggest our culture has been frozen in place for a hundred years.' Lance Daly, the Dublin-based director of Black 47, said Ireland had aggravated the phenomenon by luring foreign productions for the jobs they would bring rather than the stories they would tell. 'What you have then is a director who is not Irish directing actors who are not Irish … We have a weird tolerance for it. We have to be careful that we're not sponsoring foreign film-makers to make fools of us.'
The Guardian
24-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Fiddle-laden fake trailer reignites debate about Hollywood's Irish stereotypes
A man in a bar with a flat cap, bloodied knuckles and a dreamy look lays down his whiskey and writes a letter. 'Dear Erin,' he begins, and a soundtrack of fiddles swells as he yearns for his lost love in the distant land of America. The trailer for the upcoming film – tagline: 'she was the Irish goodbye he never forgot' – ran in recent weeks in cinemas and online and was accompanied by a poster showing green mountains, shamrocks and a rainbow. For many, it was Hollywood's latest affront to Ireland. 'What did we Irish people ever do to you to deserve this?' said one social media post. 'Christ could they not find a leprechaun to complete cliche bingo,' said another. Some sought solace in sarcasm: 'I think they nailed it. I'm always in the pub in the 1910s writing love letters to American girls with my big dirty fingernails. Finally I feel seen.' Last week came the twist: Epic, the Irish emigration museum in Dublin, revealed it had made the trailer and that the film, titled Dear Erin, did not exist. The trailer was a stunt to lampoon the stereotyping of Ireland in Hollywood romcoms such as Wild Mountain Thyme, Irish Wish, Leap Year and PS I Love You. 'It was time to call it out,' the museum said in a statement. 'We created a trailer for a film that we hope never gets made, and filled it with all of the tired, cliched portrayals of Irish people often seen in Hollywood movies.' Colonial-era stereotypes of the Irish as fist-fighting drunks or hopeless romantics persisted in contemporary films, warping perceptions of a complex, multilayered society, Aileesh Carew, the museum's director and chief executive, said in an interview. 'If you don't know anyone from Ireland then these films may be your only reference point.' The trailer features the actor Peter Coonan sporting shamrocks on his lapel and surrounded by empty beer glasses as his voiceover reminisces about meeting Erin: 'I have played that night over in my head more times than the Finnegans fought the O'Malleys.' The goal was to mimic a studio publicity campaign while cramming in every conceivable cliche, said Carew, adding: 'Potatoes, we forgot the potatoes.' Hundreds of thousands of views on TikTok and LadBible, along with the response on Instagram, Reddit and other platforms, showed the campaign had hit a chord, said Carew. Before the reveal, some commenters guessed that the trailer was a spoof, while others begged that it be so. 'Must be a joke here somewhere,' said one. 'Sweet Jesus no please. This should be called Dear God No! not Dear Erin.' The Hollywood stereotypes dated from the 1930s when gangster films featured Irish characters who were menacing thugs or comic relief drunks, but invariably seedy, said Dr Sian Barber, a film studies lecturer at Queen's University Belfast. 'Irishness was something foreign but also comforting. It was not done with any malice but it quickly became embedded in Hollywood consciousness.' Sign up to This is Europe The most pressing stories and debates for Europeans – from identity to economics to the environment after newsletter promotion Irish people, and tourism authorities, at times colluded in this romanticisation, said Barber. 'It offers this beautiful image of unreality which is welcoming and friendly. It's playing to this tourist idea of what Ireland can offer – the landscape, the loveable rogue.' John Ford's 1952 film The Quiet Man set a template of sorts by sending John Wayne's character back to his homeland to find a wife, whom he ends up dragging through fields, but its rural setting reflected much of Irish life at that time, unlike more recent fare that suggests society still revolves around sheep, donkeys and Guinness. Irish critics howled – in mirth and agony – at the whimsy and dodgy accents in the likes of Wild Mountain Thyme, a 2020 romcom starring Jamie Dornan and Emily Blunt, and Irish Wish, a 2024 vehicle for Lindsay Lohan. The main problem was not inaccuracy but lack of context, said Paudie Holly, a storyteller at Dublin's National Leprechaun Museum. Folklore can and should be celebrated, and there was no reason to feel shame about Ireland's rural past, but modern Ireland was different, he said. 'It's ridiculous to suggest our culture has been frozen in place for a hundred years.' Lance Daly, the Dublin-based director of Black 47, said Ireland had aggravated the phenomenon by luring foreign productions for the jobs they would bring rather than the stories they would tell. 'What you have then is a director who is not Irish directing actors who are not Irish … We have a weird tolerance for it. We have to be careful that we're not sponsoring foreign film-makers to make fools of us.'
Spectator
02-07-2025
- Spectator
Will the Irish ever forgive the English?
Leaving home is the best way to find out who you are. In my case, it's a muddle. Welsh dad. Irish mum. English upbringing. And I feel pleasantly detached wherever I go. In England, I'm considered Welsh. In Ireland, I'm considered English. In Wales, I'm considered inadequate because I don't speak the language, apart from the odd term like 'popty ping' (microwave). From childhood I've been a scholar of English preconceptions about my Celtic brethren. 'Welsh? Cave-dwellers who love sheep.' 'Irish? Bog-trotters who love horses.' The Irish are preferred, especially by the English upper classes, who are infatuated with Ireland as an abstract concept. But they're less keen on the real thing. An Irish accent in the family is an ornament. An Irish accent in the sitting room is an embarrassment. Arriving in Dublin, I step off the ferry and walk into town through the docks rather than waiting for a bus that may not exist. My mother was born in Co. Kerry in 1925 and she belonged to the first generation of free Irish citizens. By a quirk of history, her father and her older siblings were born in the United Kingdom as subjects of the British crown. Same house, different country. Nowadays the family home is a knitwear shop in a street full of knitwear shops. From my mother, haphazardly, I picked up the story of Irish independence but I never worked out who led the movement. Other nations threw off their oppressors under the inspiration of a single figure. Russia, Lenin. India, Gandhi. China, Mao. Cuba, Castro. South Africa, Mandela. But Ireland has an endless rollcall of heroes whose effigies line O'Connell Street. Dublin's great landmark, the GPO, is still in business, selling stamps to customers who wait patiently at glass-fronted booths. History shifted here. In this neat, spacious public building, the 20th century turned on its axis. People in Britain don't fully appreciate the significance of the 1916 Easter Rising, which is regarded in Ireland and around the world as the blow that toppled the Empire. It took five decades for the structure to disintegrate entirely, but the wreckers began their work in the heart of Britain's first overseas colony. The rebellion's leaders were executed at Kilmainham Gaol, a grey hulk that serves as a shrine to Ireland's indomitability. It takes 30 minutes to stroll there from the centre of town and I'm greeted by a gatekeeper who says my arrival doesn't suit his timetable. I return the next day, half an hour earlier, and a new gatekeeper rejects me for the same reason. Perhaps the only way to get into Kilmainham Gaol is to blow up the post office. On the Liffey's north bank, I pass the Irish Emigration Museum and ask myself why London has no comparable memorial to the English diaspora. Then I realise: the UK version is called the Foreign Office. I'm an ultra-cautious pedestrian in Dublin, which is infested with trams. These steel pythons prowl the streets, sending people scattering in all directions. The operator's dashboard seems to have just two settings, 'stationary' and 'ramming speed'. Is there a horn? Are there brakes? Search me. There's no steering wheel, obviously, and the operator can't swerve to avoid a dawdling Jesuit or a pensioner with a guide dog. I tend to keep my trap shut in Ireland. A British accent chills the warmth of the natives. 'Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart,' said Yeats. In comedy clubs, the performers make fun of the old enemy. 'Any English in?' asks the compere. A few paws are raised. 'Nice to see you surrendering.' A comic at a different venue checks the audience for Brits. None of us identify ourselves. 'Good,' he says. 'Effing Brits. I hate them.' He tells an unlikely story about a visit to London where he was mistaken for a pickpocket by a grandmother on a mobility scooter. 'Don't even think about it,' she warned. In revenge he stole her wallet and her groceries. This story gets a big laugh. She was English. She deserved it. Dublin's demographic is changing. The canal towpaths are lined with steel fences that prevent vagrants and asylum seekers from establishing camps. But the vagrants can wriggle in through a gap at the base of the fence. Once in, they put up tents and enjoy the protection of a barrier designed to keep them out. The Gardaí ought to wriggle in and arrest them, but they can't. They're too fat. Outside the station, I'm approached by a woman looking for a bus to Sandymount. I put on an exaggerated Jacob Rees-Mogg accent: 'I'm terribly sorry but you've asked the one person in the vicinity who knows nothing about local bus routes.' She laughs. I laugh. And I'm flattered that she thought I was Irish. I ask myself for the millionth time why our islands can't merge afresh and live as one. A while ago, I published this modest idea on social media and I was hit by a barrage of murderous, hate-filled fury posted by lunatics. Everything they wrote was locked in the past. None of it welcomed the future. Come on, guys. We can do this.
RTÉ News
11-06-2025
- RTÉ News
Exhibition explores 100 years of the Irish passport
A new exhibition has opened at the Irish Emigration Museum to mark the centenary of the Irish passport. The exhibition, called 'On the Move', tells the stories of the country's "most travelled document". EPIC historian Dr Catherine Healy said the establishment of the passport was an important moment for Irish sovereignty, "showing a commitment to engage with the world as an independent nation". Dr Healy said that the museum wanted to ask questions such as "what does the passport tell us about Ireland's relationship with the wider world," and it also wanted to explore its role in the lives of people who have used it. EPIC asked the public for any stories they had about their family's passports and many of those stories are on display in the exhibition. "We know what the passport means to Irish people at home and abroad," Dr Healy said. "We wanted to feature tales of migration, the diasporic connection and also capture some of the human stories too," she added. Liz Cassidy responded to the request and explained that her grandparents used their Free State passports to go on their honeymoon in Algiers in the 1920s. Her grandfather, Thomas Healy, born in 1895 and died in 1957, was issued with a document which identifies it as a passport from Saorstát Éireann. "It was a proud day when he received it because he had fought for freedom from British rule, with the Irish volunteers during the War of Independence," Ms Cassidy said. "My grandfather was one of Michael Collins' trusted intelligence officers in west Cork," she said. Thomas Healy retired from the army in early 1923 and returned to his family law practice in Skibereen. "His passport tells the story that has filled the gaps in our family history," Ms Cassidy said. He renewed his passport in 1926, and under the "observations" section, a note indicates his intentions for "travelling to Algiers". He and his new wife, her grandmother Helen Grennan, born in 1897 and died in 1973, were planning their "exotic honeymoon in north Africa". Also featured in the exhibition is former Leitrim hurler Zak Moradi. He received his first Irish passport at the age of 30. His family came to Ireland as political programme refugees in 2002. "I am from Kurdistan and was born in a refugee camp in Iraq," Mr Moradi said. "I got into hurling in 6th class, and though hurling is a kind of difficult game to play, I liked the challenge," he said. Mr Moradi went on to describe the process of obtaining an Irish passport and said "it took a bit of time to apply to become an Irish citizen, because I didn't have a birth cert". It is not an easy process, he added, but "when you get it, it's worth it". Mr Moradi said that the passport gives him "an identity and tells where I belong". "I'm still learning that I can travel and learn all these new things because of it," he said. "I never thought when I was in the refugee camp that this would happen for me, but within 20 years, your life can change completely," Mr Moradi added. The exhibition runs for the summer at EPIC.
Irish Daily Mirror
01-05-2025
- Irish Daily Mirror
The Irish passport: Launched 100 years ago and now among most valued worldwide
A new exhibition at the Irish Emigration Museum has chronicled the turbulent 100-year history of the Irish passport. The study, called A Century of the Irish Passport, delves into the rich past of the national document over the last 101 years and explores its history, identity, and significance. It opens on Thursday, May 1, and highlights layers of Ireland's evolving nationhood from even before the first passports were issued in April 1924 after the bloody Civil War. Tánaiste Simon Harris praised the exhibition and described the Irish passport as crucial to the country's 'identity, our freedom, and our connections to the world'. The Irish Emigration Museum, known as EPIC, said the exhibition represents a spotlight on much more than a travel pass, saying the 'passport is much more than a document'. A spokesperson for EPIC said: 'This exhibition marks 100 years of the Irish passport, exploring its fascinating history, role in shaping Irish identity, and significance in global affairs. "Curated in conjunction with the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade and supported by the Emigrant Support Programme, the exhibition draws on a rich collection of archival records, historical materials, and public contributions. It highlights the evolution of the Irish passport - from a marker of independence to its impact on migration, diplomacy, and social change.' EPIC chief Aileesh Carew said: 'The Irish passport is much more than a document - it's a symbol of connection, resilience, and the enduring spirit of the Irish people. As we mark 100 years of the passport, we're excited to showcase not only its rich history but also the personal stories of millions who have journeyed across the globe. This exhibition is a celebration of those who have carried the Irish passport with pride and the remarkable impact they've had on the world.' In March 2025, EPIC and the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade launched a public callout for personal stories to be featured in the exhibition, receiving an overwhelmingly positive response. Contributions have ranged from heartwarming anecdotes about emigration to memories of receiving an Irish passport for the first time. These stories, alongside original historical records and archival footage, will showcase how the Irish passport has impacted lives and connected people globally. It includes stories about Irish people, like the grandparents of Abigail O'Reilly. They met as Irish immigrants in the 1950s in London, where they worked together on bus routes, Bill as a driver and Jean as a conductor. Abigail moved to Dublin in 2020 to pursue a postgraduate degree and has remained here since. She said: 'I feel proud to have been able to return to a country which my grandparents were not able to remain in. I feel all the more connected to them for it.' Visitors will be invited to explore key themes such as what passports reveal about Ireland's journey to independence and its relationship with the wider world, plus the role of the Irish passport in times of war, social change, and global mobility. Tánaiste and Foreign Affairs Minister Simon Harris TD said: 'Our passport is a source of great pride for our citizens, it represents our identity, our freedom, and our connections to the world. This exhibition is a wonderful celebration of 100 years of the Irish Passport and its impact on the lives of Irish people at home and abroad. I am especially delighted to see submissions from citizens who have shared their significant and historic family passport stories, which highlight the experiences that make the Irish passport so special.' EPIC's historian-in-residence Catherine Healy said: 'The issuing of the first Irish passport marked an important moment in the history of Ireland. A symbol of Irish identity, it provided clear evidence of a commitment to engage with the world as an independent nation. "Irish passports have since facilitated millions of journeys across the world, whether for work, love or intellectual freedom. The issuing of a passport could represent the start of a difficult departure from home, but for millions with Irish heritage it could also be a powerful reminder of family connection.' Award-winning museum EPIC was opened in 2016 by former President Mary Robinson to honour the Irish diaspora abroad and recognise the vital contributions and monumental impact Irish people have made worldwide. The museum, which was named as Europe's leading tourist attraction at the World Travel Awards three years in a row from 2019, tells the moving and unforgettable stories of those who left the island of Ireland, and how they influenced and shaped the world. Its latest exhibition – full title On the Move: A Century of the Irish Passport - runs from today, May 1 until September at the Irish Emigration Museum. More information is available from EPIC's website.
