Starring: Colin Farrell, Alicja Bachleda
Directed by: Neil Jordan
Certificate: 12A
Runtime: 111 minutes
UK release date: 05 March 2010:
In a nutshell: Once upon a time it all ended in violence: fairytale and harsh reality blend in Neil Jordan’s superior drama.
After some dreadful recent "Oirish" films - yes, Leap Year, we're talking to you - trust Neil Jordan to bring things back to standard. Although Jordan's record isn't unblemished - if you've never seen In Dreams or We're No Angels I heartily suggest you keep it that way - the man has an incredible ability to blend the fantastic with the realistic, and not short change either element.
Syracuse (Farrell) is a fisherman who's struggling at every turn. A recovering alcoholic, he's finding it hard to make ends meet, a situation made all the more painful by his devotion to his disabled daughter Annie (Barry) and his concerns that his hard drinking ex-wife (Kirwan) isn't fit to look after her.
And then one day, Syracuse brings in his catch and finds a beautiful woman (Bachleda) in the net. She has no recollection of who she is or how she came to be there so Syracuse brings her to his mother's old cottage by the water. As the girl - who Syracuse has named Ondine - recovers, Syracuse's luck improves. Ondine's singing appears to draw fish to his net, a situation that convinces Annie this mysterious stranger is a selkie, a mythical sea creature that's part seal, part woman.
The truth is very different, but the beauty of Jordan's really rather good film is that you'd just about believe it if Ondine was a selkie, as Jordan balances the mythical with reality in exquisite style, drawing out a career-best performance from Farrell in the process. It would be all too easy to play Syracuse as embittered, a man beaten by circumstances, but Farrell retains a lightness of touch which allows for some fine comic moments - mostly opposite Stephen Rea as the local priest - and for that fairytale air to carry considerable resonance. He's also matched every step of the way by young Barry, who's very impressive, balancing an inner maturity with a wide-eyed sense of wonder, and the ethereally beautiful Bachleda.
That's not to say that Ondine is a feelgood classic: there's a sense of creeping melancholy to the film as you become increasingly aware that the truth about Ondine is drawing ever closer. But somehow, at the back of your mind, thanks to Jordan's screenplay, direction and this nigh perfect casting, there's always a sense of hope that you're wrong.
Whimsical and wonderful, brutal and beautiful, Ondine is a charming film. Here's hoping it doesn't get lost in the wake of the Tim Burton's bloated Alice in Wonderland.
