Man of Aran

Saw Man of Aran, a Nanook of the North-style early documentary, made before the non-fiction bit had become a core requirement of the documentary genre. The film follows a family of man wife and child, for example, but in the opening credits we are told that the people portraying this family do not share surnames. Suspicious. Also, just as in Nanook, the climactic shark-hunting expedition was preformed with purposefully archaic hunting methods, a novelty for the hunters and filmmakers as well as the audience.

Anyway, the documentary (such as it is) follows life on the Aran Islands, an island chain off the coast of Ireland which is entirely composed of rock, with a few bits of soil wedged in crevasses. The inhabitants are mostly fishermen with a few literal dirt farmers who grow dirt by composting seaweed in other, more barren crevasses. It looks like a hard but not too uncomfortable life. I was struck by the absolute disregard the inhabitants had towards getting wet. They would stand there in their cable-knit sweaters and slipper-ish socks, blown by what looks to be a very stiff, cold wind, and just let giant ocean waves to come crashing down over them. Just watching it I wanted a change of clothes and a shower.

The film is a soundy but the people speak Gaelic, or in English which is so thickly-accented that it might as well be Swahili. There's a lot of footage of the mighty power of the sea. Tons of towering waves lashing at the rocks and itty-bitty little figures moving, silhouetted against the skyline like death in The Seventh Seal. It was a bit too austere for me, feeling sort of slow and remote, more Baraka-like than (I dunno) Perfect Storm-like. I feel this is the sort of film it would be good to see with a learned expert, to talk over and point out the interesting bits. Perhaps an audio commentary would have helped.