Pat shortt garage ending relationship

Pat Shortt's firm making 'D'Unbelievable' profits - artsocial.info

It's Pat Shortt - but like you've never seen him before. of down-on-his-luck rural resident Josie in Garage, which was directed by Lenny Abrahamson, "At the end of the day," he says, "everyone has to make a living no matter what they do. .. Celebrity · Fashion · Beauty · Sex & Relationships · LookBook. It focuses on Josie, played by Pat Shortt, a garage attendant who isn't the shiniest to talk with but the seemingly harmless relationship starts to take a darker turn. life actually drove the story and gave deep meaning to the unbelievable end. Anyone see it? am guessn Pat Shortt is hated in Cork. That struck a chord with me having parents and lots of relations who are from the.

There are scenes of him in nature, on his own at home, scenes with the horse, which open the film out and give it a denser texture and it becomes harder to think of Josie in easy social categories. Eventually as the film approaches the end sequence there is, I hope, a feeling that there is something unfathomable about him. The important thing for me was to achieve this development without marking the changes in any obvious way.

Josie could never describe his feelings - perhaps he is not even conscious that he has them. Actually, in a real sense, there is no change in Josie; no "character development". The change is in us as we watch him. All his depth, all his capacity is there from the beginning - we just don't see it.

The film works by becoming quieter, more concentrated as it moves forward, which draws the audience in and intensifies its awareness. In a way, everything points towards the few seconds of silent black screen after the last image and before the credits. One of the things I most enjoyed about Garage is its willingness to communicate as much through what is left unsaid and suggested at as that which is made explicit.

For example, the scene where Josie makes tea for Mr. Gallagher and we are left in no doubt that Josie is about to lose his home and his livelihood. Was this approach a major decision for you? We knew the scene you describe would end where it does, before anything significant is said. As shot it was longer, though - with all the dialogue you would expect - so that the actors could play the complete encounter and would not be anticipating the cut.

Generally, there is an attempt in Garage not to load the dialogue with explicit meaning. I'm interested in the spaces between the significant moments in life, the parts that are usually discarded in memory and also - almost as a matter of principle - in conventional cinematic storytelling. You employ a minimalist visual style. Is this partly informed by the natural beauty of your locations and what other factors came into play when deciding the tact that you take?

The process of shooting - of choosing shots - is intuitive for me and I just feel my way towards what seems right. In fact, though the filmmaking is always quiet, there are places where the images are expressive as well as places where the shots are deliberately functional. It's hard for me to define a single visual style that describes the film. Garage is minimal, I suppose, in the sense of being as simple as I could possibly make it. When there really is something authentic in a scene, and when you remove everything which feels inflected in the storytelling, anything unnecessary, then the scene can get an extraordinary intensity.

Lots of this business of taking things away happens in the edit.

Pat's last laugh: Pat Shortt shines a light on the pain of rural Ireland - artsocial.info

I try to take bricks out of the building, and as long as it doesn't fall down they stay out. The danger in making something like Garage where the events are mostly "ordinary" - at least on the surface - in this very simple way is that if there is any kind of false note, then the powerfully prosaic becomes just prosaic.

There is none of the bluster and effect of conventional drama to hide behind. The minimalism is also reflected in the sparing use of music.

Pat Shortt's firm making 'D'Unbelievable' profits

Why did you decide to use so little? I work with the same composer, Stephen Rennicks, on everything I do. I have a similarly tight relationship with him as I do with Mark. He's extremely talented and absolutely concentrated on his music as part of the film - never for its own sake.

He composed beautiful, interesting music for many parts of the film and we would try pieces out, often keeping them in the cut for quite a while. But nearly always we came to feel that the sequence was stronger, purer, without the music. In the end there are three music cues left in the film; the titles and credits and one piece over picture.

The music over titles is very dense, orchestrated and dramatic. It creates a kind of expectation which is undercut by the first, prosaic images of the film, but by the time a version of it recurs over the credits I think the expectation is met. The middle piece occurs at a very particular point in the film. It marks the end of something. Neither myself nor Stephen has ever worked as hard, or thought as much about film music as we did on Garage.

There is so little of it but it is a hugely important part of the film. There is a sense of timelessness in regards to the environment where the film is set. How difficult was it to find your location and what key elements - a garage, presumably - were high on your list of priorities? With the garage itself we were very lucky.

The building that we ended up using - and using with almost no alteration - was due to be knocked down to make way for new apartments, just like in the story of the film.

How Pat Shortt made a comedy about emigration and 1916

Generally though, and all breathless news reports about the Celtic Tiger notwithstanding, most of Ireland looks a lot like it always has. There were many, many towns we could have used. Strangely, one or two Irish critics have said that places like this no longer exist. I think they're watching too much TV.

Were there also certain images you were keen to avoid in regards to the depiction of rural Ireland and small town life? In many ways you are not afraid to reveal that despite the beauty, these is a sense of frustration, boredom and even cruelty associated with this way of living.

I was concerned that while the film definitely had to show the insularity and occasional cruelty of small town life, it couldn't become about those things.

There is a history of stage and film drama in Ireland - some of it wonderful - about the psychology of the depressed place, and for me there is not much to be said that's new. Garage is really a film about the significance of a small, unremarkable life and I wanted it to be a celebration of that life.

It was often a difficult balance - to show it truthfully in all its sadness and at the same time to make about something deeper than that sadness. The relationship between Josie and David is beautifully realised. How natural was the camaraderie we see between Pat and Conor?

Pat and Conor are easy-going, open people and they liked each other from the beginning of rehearsals. Like David, Conor is self-possessed, gentle, and has a very developed, dry sense of humour. And he is as natural in front of the camera as any actor I've ever seen. In a film of quietly remarkable performances - and I found Anne-Marie Duff to be especially striking - it is impossible not to mention again Pat Shorrt as Josie.

I know that in Ireland he is a very popular comedian so did you have any reservations about casting him and how did you work together to achieve Josie's physical and mental appearance? Once I thought about Pat in the role of Josie it was impossible for me to imagine anyone else playing the part.

He is also used by some older people as the local listening and silent confessor. The grocery-store lady invites him to dance one night and becomes all personal and soft, and yet as soon as one of his finger touches anything else than her dress, a little patch of her own skin, she over-reacts and rejects him in public as if he had tried to rape her.

His boss puts a young teenager of 15 in his hands to extend the opening hours of the gas station. A certain amount of trust and friendship develops but he offers a beer to the kid after work and even once he offers to show him the sex tape a truck driver has offered him.

Then he becomes the target of a complaint at the police, of a police procedure, of a slandering campaign in the city. He cannot accept it and he goes to the horse in a field that he has often visited and offered some goodie to in order to say good bye we guess, or maybe only hello.

But the horse has been tied up and cannot come to the gate. So Josie gets over the gate and says good bye to the horse. Then he goes to the river and walks forever into the water. Don't believe that can only happen in a small town in the Catholic back country of Ireland.