Jay Rohr
Sins of Ireland is the confession most never make. Though the film focuses on the Catholic Church, much of its overarching point highlights a need for honest introspection. This is a documentary about more than the surface subjects. That makes its simple presentation all the more important. This isn’t as obvious a film as one might mistake.
The documentary basically explores the origins alongside the nature of confession. This is essentially a Catholic sacrament where participants relate their sins and priests absolve them of their misdeeds. However, what started as a conversational unburdening quickly evolved into a kind of existential torture. Throughout the film, various priests lament how confession mutated away from a means of freeing people from moral embarrassments and became a method of subjugation through shame.
Sins of Ireland never shies from admitting fault. In the true nature of an honest penitent, the film lays out the woeful misconduct confession allowed. This includes priests using the practice as a voyeuristic window, peeking in on the sex lives of parishioners. Yet, the documentary is hardly a tawdry exploitation of such misdeeds. The failings of the clergy are admitted in tasteful detail since what happened specifically isn’t as important as admitting culpability for what occurred.
The main thread through a lot of the documentary is admitting fault and failing. In that respect, Sins of Ireland does an impressive job of presenting not simply a point of view but how it evolved. Various priests relate their own missteps in the past. For instance, one expresses regret over maintaining a hardline stance against abortion when desperate women came to confession. As such, these are tales of men who realized they had too much power over people and were hurting more than helping others.
That leads organically into the documentary taking aim at the Catholic Church. From its complicity in sex abuses to a regrettably unchristian disposition, Sins of Ireland makes plain how power corrupted the institution. Instead of helping humanity rise, faith became the cudgel that kept people in line.
Still, within that observation is an expression of what the church could be. During a Q&A at the 10th Annual Irish American Movie Hooley, where the documentary premiered theatrically, filmmaker Alex Fegan (The Irish Pub) related how the COVID quarantine caught them off guard, but that didn’t halt filming. Instead, it inadvertently led to wonderful scenes featuring the participating priests tending to their flocks in charming ways. These are often quirky and humorous, yet this unintentional comedy adds a touching sentiment about the power of community fostered by positive religious figures.
Sins of Ireland isn’t a vitriolic condemnation of confession or religion for that matter. It’s more of a gentle urge for change. One that points out, not only should the church do better but that it can do better.
Another selling point of the documentary is an intriguing ability to recontextualize images. For instance, Alex Fegan will feature shots that highlight the grandeur of towering cathedrals. It’s hard not to be impressed by the epic architecture. Then, when the participants relate how the church used faith to maintain power, shots of steeples looming over small Irish towns takes on a sinister quality.
Sins of Ireland does an excellent job of changing the way the world looks through the context of its tale. In that way, it reminds how experiences influence perspectives. By the end, the documentary returns to a notion that the splendor of these grand cathedrals, both within and without, is less the opulence of a corrupted church and something beautiful for all to share.
Those with a Catholic background will easily appreciate several elements of the film. People outside the faith may find a window into a particular practice but not much more. This isn’t about Catholicism in a broad sense, simply the sacrament and how it relates to larger issues within the church. The positive outlook on the faith might also appeal to anyone still practicing, but even lapsed individuals should be glad to see a call for reform from priests within the religion.
There’s no lack of sincerity to the documentary. Sometimes there’s even a bit of humor. Some of the subject matter can be heavy, so a touch of levity lightens the mood. More importantly, it gives the interviewees more personality. Still, the film can be a bit dry.
While there isn’t much flash to the presentation it feels like a tricky criticism to make. Contemporary documentaries have often augmented themselves with animated segments, or moving photo collages. However, given some of the topics, animatics or visual flair risks undermining the seriousness of subjects. It’s hard to imagine a tasteful reenactment of a tearful confession about abortion. Consequently, the plainness of Sins of Ireland can make it visually uninteresting, but everything said is always worth hearing.
That said, looking away risks missing moments that say more than words. Discussing confession is impossible without including the confessional box. Sins of Ireland features an amazing assortment of the wooden cabinets. These ornate spaces, designed for privacy, are beautiful in many respects. Each seems to have its own personality depending on how ornate or plain they are, and it’s never a wasted shot when the camera lingers on one. Yet, like church buildings, they take on different qualities as the documentary goes on.
Sins of Ireland is a simple documentary with a direct point. Its interviewees are entirely composed of priests, but make no mistake, these are not people towing a Catholic line. They are men who have seen their faith at its best and worst, who now want to strive for a better future. There are layers to the topics. Still, watching simple for the history of confession is enough reason to give Sins of Ireland a chance.
Fans of informative flicks may well enjoy this. Those too cynical to give it a chance are losing a lesson on forgiveness. After all, people make mistakes, and confession isn’t just admitting fault, it’s the first step towards change.
