The Quiet Girl

First-time director Colm Bairéad on turning the novella Foster by Claire Keegan into the tear-jerking tour de force that swept the Irish Film and TV awards.

Yet he has noticed a shift in the perception of the language, particularly in younger people. I think, after going through a recession and a pandemic, that society started to look inward a little and reappraise identity a little, you know?” Besides, there is a connection to the language: ‘It’s wrapped up in all of these things to do with national pride. “Irish people have this sort of strange relationship with the language,” says Bairéad. “Everyone’s forced to do it in school, but most leave with very little. That was very much a staple of Irish life in the past.” Was that his experience growing up? They can ask: ‘Can I go to the toilet?’ in Irish or whatever.” He quotes a line from the Irish proclamation of independence. Nothing terrible happens to Cáit; this is not a story about abuse in orphanages or the Magdalene laundries. (The mystery for Cáit to discover is why there is a wardrobe of boys’ clothes at the couple’s house, when they do not have children.) My favourite moment comes when grumpy-seeming Seán silently leaves a chocolate biscuit on the kitchen counter for Cáit – a tiny gesture of love that speaks volumes. It is the beautiful and extremely moving story of a nine-year-old girl from a poor family who is farmed out to relatives while her mother gives birth to yet another baby. When Cáit’s dad drops her off at the Cinnsealachs’, he drives off with her suitcase in the boot, leaving her only with the clothes in which she is standing. It is as if she is being seen for the first time. I suspect that the hour we spend chatting at the Soho offices of the film company distributing his film is about 59 minutes too long for him.