Ondine

Beyond a ritual cameo from Stephen Rea (here as a kindly priest from the Father Ted school of Catholicism), it’s hard to know what to expect from a Neil Jordan film until you take the plunge. This time – and there’s no easy way to say this – it’s Colin Farrell as a down-and-out fisherman who dredges up a Sigur Rós-impersonating sea nymph-slash-trafficking victim (Alicja Bachleda-Curus) with his halibut. Jordan, who produced the film independently, at least saved himself the awkwardness of having to pitch that one to a roomful of studio execs.

As usual, Jordan isn’t too troubled with the trappings of conventional narrative or genre. As usual, too, it pays to focus on enjoying the flavours he cooks up, rather than worrying about how to digest them. And Ondine tastes pretty good for about five minutes as Farrell’s Syraceuse (how a barely literate, provincial Irishman wound up with such a classically inflected name is one of Ondine’s many mysteries) leaps to the sensible but horrifying conclusion that his unusually weighty catch is a corpse. It’s a genuine shock when it bursts to life, violently spluttering and choking. Jordan claims that this image was his starting point – and it’s certainly arresting – but where to take it from there?

The director fudges the answer by weaving a sometimes astoundingly clunky fable about the power of hope, miracles and Iceland’s most insipid musical export. This involves Dervla Kirwan as Syraceuse’s string-vest-wearing sot of an ex, who has custody of their invalid daughter Annie, despite her obvious unfitness as a mother (Annie, naturally, is one of those irritatingly precocious kids who spews smug wit beyond her years).

And the miracles? Well, Ondine (as our mystery lady takes to calling herself) hums a few lines from Sigur Rós’ Takk, and before you know it Syraceuse is up to his eyeballs in fish like a pilgrim father at Cape Cod. Everyone’s happy to believe that this super-hot, thickly-accented stranger is indeed a Celtic mermaid until a creepy, greasy-looking Eastern European bloke – who has the singularly sinister habit of eating tinned fish with a flick knife – comes a-calling. Cue the awkward question of whether she really is a mythical sea creature, or perhaps “one of them asylum seekers”, as Syraceuse cannily theorises. Does it matter? And will they live happily after? Fish really might fly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRLM8vMQFns

Sophie Ivan

Anticipation:

Jordan’s first foray into fairytale fantasy since The Company of Wolves. Could go either way.

Enjoyment:

Fair dues to Farrell, who does a pretty convincing tortured fisherman.

In Retrospect:

A bigger Splash.