There is no real secret to good
education. Buried beneath a groaning stack of Government statistics is one
simple truth: if you invest in schools education, standards will rise. The
reason why it is never spelled out this way is essentially because Governments
would be forced to spend a lot more money in areas where education standards
are lowest. Historically this has never been a priority so one shouldn’t expect
anything to change in this regard. Watching Ballymun
Lullaby the return on investment (however meagre that investment is) is
plain to see. It is also clear that investment isn’t only financial. Investment
of time and effort is as important and it is here that the sheer triumph of
this documentary is apparent.
Directed by Frank Berry, Ballymun Lullaby begins with a ‘Reeling in the Years’ style montage of the history of
Ballymun. This is an important context to add to the documentary as it shows
the scale of change that has happened with Ballymun regeneration programme
which has demolished six of the seven towers. Housing has replaced the flats
and indeed it is instructive to see just one tower standing, an indicator of
the economic downturn that has halted many large projects. In the midst of all
this change, the documentary focuses on a music teacher Ron Cooney who is
striving to put on a concert with the Ballymun youth choir. This is to be a
concert about Ballymun, with original music done in collaboration with composer
Darragh O’Toole.
Every documentary of this type needs
a charismatic central protagonist and in Ron Cooney, boy, does this film
succeed. He is charming, effortlessly funny and more importantly, he cares. The
camera loves him. This story is to some degree a similar one to the classic Hollywood film tradition of the teacher in the deprived
area who didn’t give up on the kids such as Dangerous
Minds. But the setting alone means that sentimentality is kept at bay. Self
deprecating humour means from the throughout the film stops any easy
sentimentalism creeping in. The people involved in the music program are
interviewed and not once are the audience invited to feel sorry for them. This
is not the X Factor and these people
are not ‘on a journey’. They are hard working people from tough backgrounds who
have talent that is plain to see. The difference here is that they have someone
in Cooney who can bring it out. The utopia would be that all schools should
have teachers and programs like this. But that will not happen sadly. What
comes across here from the people interviewed is the pride they have in their
community. They love Ballymun. This is welcoming to hear as a counterpoint to
the standard crime/drugs stories invariably heard on the news about working
class areas like Ballymun.
But it is in the creation of the
music for the concert that this documentary triumphs. The music is terrific
with one particular children’s choir piece that raises the hairs on the back of
your neck. This is a simple story beautifully told: a searing call to arms for
more investment in the unending potential of our young. In a society where
people a few years older are leaving Ireland in their droves, this
message has never been more important. Cooney buzzes as he helps prepare the
kids for their performance, seeming to believe that music can change the children’s
lives. And as the camera intercuts between shots of poverty with children
singing with passion, it is so easy for the audience to believe this too. There
is no greater endorsement of a film than that.
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