From Lough Sheelin to the silver-screen
I’m standing under a cloudless blue sky on the shore of Lough Sheelin. Mayfly fishermen sweep silently out onto the glistening lake, taking me away from Cavan and into the silver-screen’s of Hollywood. As I watch a distant angler back-cast, I’m re-watching scenes from the film ‘On Golden Pond.’
It stars Henry Fonda (in his final film), his daughter Jane, and Katherine Hepburn. The film is a gentle family drama with a narrative that focuses on the tumultuous relationship between a daughter and her elderly father as they holiday in their summer house on the shores of the eponymous lake, Golden Pond. It was a commercial and critical success, receiving 10 nominations at the 54th Academy Awards.
Its human stars were lauded for their performances, yet it was another character that stole the show: the landscape, specifically the lake. Through the ups and downs of the drama, the lake is always there: calming, entertaining, and even listening to the characters woes. And of course, the lake and its surrounds look stunningly beautiful under the ever changing skies.
When we’re young, we never really appreciate our surrounds (well, at least I didn’t). In my younger years I resented Cavan, felt confined by it. I’d sit in the darkness of the Magnet cinema watching the flicks. Afterwards, I’d walk home alone, along the quiet streets, lamenting all the beautiful places and adventures, which were far away in America and beyond. I longed to experience the cinematic landscapes and live in the epic-drama that happened worlds away from the mundanity of Cavan.
Specifically, I wanted the American Summer-Camp experience. So, I secured a three-month summertime job in ‘Rockywold-Deephaven-Camps. The camp was situated on Squam Lake, the very same lake that starred in ‘On Golden Pond’ – I was on my way to live in a movie.
I flew to New York and took a Greyhound Bus to Boston, wherein I stayed the night in a creepy motel. The male proprietor had a fixation with Margaret Thatcher, and an air of Anthony Perkins from the movie, Psycho – I stayed away from the shower.
The following morning I took a second bus to New Hampshire, disembarking at the small town of Holderness where I was to be picked up by a camp employee. The day was grey with a fine veil of soaking mizzle. Standing in the drizzle I looked around at the small town on a miserable Monday morning and thought, ‘I may as well be back in Cavan.’
And my disappointment deepened when I arrived on the shores of Golden Pond; I may as well have been at Lake Killykeen or Lough Sheelin in Cavan. That summer I learnt the truth – the movies are make-believe. I look back at my three-month tenure on Squam Lake with affection; but alas there was no dramatic-adventure or great love-affair worthy of committing to cinema. I returned to Cavan with an understanding that its mundanity is marvellously real; its landscape and lakes cinematically-epic.
What I’m saying is, we don’t truly appreciate our place until we leave it. I’ve written before about the Hollywood movie-mogul who travels from L.A to our Cavan shores for his cinematic inspiration, “My friends in Ireland ask me – ‘Really, Cavan?’ he says.
“I hate to let the secret out of the bag, but it’s beautiful and peaceful and we’re right on this big lake. It couldn’t be a better place for my purposes, which are mostly to write…”
I’m still standing on the shores of Sheelin when my phone pings. A message from my aunt pulls me out of my silver-screen meanderings: ‘The food has arrived.’ I walk up towards one of the many jewels in Cavan’s crown, Crover House; where a celebratory meal with relatives awaits.
As I ate, my thoughts were elsewhere. I was thinking of Cavan as a film character. The movie ‘No Party for Billy Burns’ returned to me: written and directed by Padraig Conaty and starring Kevin McGahern. I saw it in the Odeon and was totally immersed in its story; while being amazed at how the rural roads and landscape of west Cavan transported me to the great plains of Hollywood Westerns: that’s the magic of the movies.
Cavan has hugely talented film writers and directors; and I look forward to watching what comes from our emergent movie-makers – we have a vast canvas for cinema.
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