Putting together a film in Ireland can be a slow and laborious task. Just ask the Lynch family, who lived to tell the tale. Paul Byrne talks to the makers of Night Train.
Imagine, if you will, trying to organise a wedding. Now, think of all the things that can go wrong. And then take all those mishaps and headaches and multiply them by, oh, about a gazillion or so. Welcome to the world of filmmaking.
For brothers Tristan and Adam Lynch, getting involved with their father John's film, Night Train, was both a natural and an extremely naive thing to do. Whatever about the usual combination of fistfights and hugs that go to make up a normal, healthy family, to embark on a two and a half year journey together in order to make a feature film would be, for many people, a sure sign of being not that many twitches away from sheer madness.
"I'm sure if we'd known before we started out on this film just how much of a nightmare it would become at times," offers Tristan, Night Train's producer, "it's quite possible we would have just walked away from it. But then, to be perfectly honest, I'd be very disappointed if we had. It was a
difficult learning experience, sure, but one that I'm really very, very proud to having been a part of."
It all began when John Lynch, a director at RTE for "more years than I care to remember", was posted ten pages of a script from Dublin journalist-turned-screenwriter Aodhan Madden.
"They arrived sopping wet," offers John, "so I remember drying them off, reading them through, and thinking, there's definitely something worth considering here. It went through many, many changes over the coming two years or so, but the core of the story about a man on the run and hiding out in a basement flat were already there."
Once John had enlisted the help of his son Tristan to produce the project (with Adam signed up to do the music once the shoot began), the little job of finding the right cast was their next challenge.
"We gave the third draft of the script to John Hurt," continues Tristan, "and he liked it. And then he stayed on board for the next two and a half years, as we struggled with the financing. Without him, it's quite possible that the film would never have gotten that money. The thing that took up
the most time really was the script changes, but having the knowledge that John was there helped us enormously. It got to the stage where the financing fell through on more than one occasion, but that's very much part of the film business, unless you're Neil Jordan or Jim Sheridan."
"The funny thing is," offers John, "the company who eventually did finance the film said no the first time we went to them. By the time we got back around to talking to them again a year later, they had forgotten us, and this time they said yes. So you learn that yes doesn't mean anything, and no means nothing either. It's action not words that count."
Realising that sales agents and the money people in the film industry never look at a script but only the pulling power of the cast, Tristan set about trying to find a suitable match for John Hurt. The role was that of the landlady's spinster daughter, who falls for the runaway lodger, and Mia
Farrow was no.1 on their list. That is, until she had that little tiff with Woody Allen.
Tristan: "We were put in a terrible position with Mia Farrow because after she had fallen out with Woody Allen, people were saying, rightly or wrongly, that she was no longer bankable, and the sales agents said she had to go. So then we asked them who we should cast, and they just gave us the Oscar nominees list for that year. It didn't matter who was on the list – it could have been Whoopi Goldberg for all they cared – but that's what they see as being bankable in an indie film. Brenda Blethyn was on the list, and so we went down to the cinema and saw Secrets & Lies. And
eventually we went to meet her in London, because John wasn't convinced that she would suit the role.
John: "She's very understated in Night Train, which I wasn't sure she could do seeing Secrets & Lies. But once we met her, I felt straight away that she was right for the part. She gave us a lift in the rain from the restaurant, and she's been a good friend ever since. That she got nominated
again for Little Voice was a big plus for the film too."
Tristan: "Both John and Brenda became almost like family, and the chemistry between them was great to see too. They were just so committed, and extremely dedicated about their work. The original shoot was supposed to be eight weeks, but looking at the budget, we knew we had to do it in six. And that meant planning everything very carefully, with no room for messing.
And we had to travel between Ireland, England and Italy over those six weeks, which is really very fast. So it was important that the two leads clicked early on."
John: "After the second day, John came up to me with that great voice of his, and said, 'She's going to be marvellous'."
But their troubles weren't over yet. As they fought to keep the money in place for the production (Tristan: "Our accountant walked out at one point"), the family suffered a harrowing crisis when Adam was rushed to hospital with a brain tumour.
"Adam's brain tumour came slap bang in the middle of all our pre-production troubles," states John, "so that put enormous strain on us. He had the operation in December, and we started shooting at the end of January.
That was a terrible Christmas. The idea that Adam was actually facing death at that point."
Adam smiles. "You only had to worry about facing prison."
"Yeah, when the second lot of money fell out, we were in debt for over half a million at that stage, and all the bureaucrats were saying, 'Oh, on your own heads be it if you continue with this folly'. If we'd stopped at that point, we'd have to go and sell our houses to clear our debts, but if we
continued, we had some hope of actually getting it made. There really wasn't much choosing to be done."
When the film finally finished shooting in Venice, it was a very relieved Tristan who took a walk out onto the balcony at the cast and crew's wrap party that night.
"And I just stood there and cried for about ten minutes," he sighs. "It was like this incredible weight had been lifted off my shoulders."
And was everything they'd been through worth it?
"Oh, absolutely," he says without hesitation. "Our whole idea was to made something of quality, something that would have a life of its own. A film like this should stick around for ten years or more. It's been very well received on the festival circuit, and within the industry too. That's far
more important to us than trying to punch out some commercial drivel in the hope of making a quick buck.
"Put it this way, despite all the troubles we had, we're all extremely keen to make another film. And because of Night Train, there are people out there now who have already let us know they would like to help us with the next one. The old saying is true; you're only as good as your last film. Even when it's your first."
Contact Subotica Films at 01 662 2226 or subotica@indigo.ie
Paul Byrne
