The Barrytown Trilogy #1
In the first volume of the Barrytown Trilogy, Roddy Doyle, winner of the Booker Prize for Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha, introduces The Commitments, a group of fame-starved, working-class Irish youths with a paradoxical passion for the music of Sam Cooke and Otis Redding and a mission—to bring Soul to Dublin. Doyle writes about the band with a fan's enthusiasm and about Dublin with a native's cheerful knowingness. His book captures all the shadings of the rock experience: ambition, greed, and egotism—ans the redeeming, exhilarating joy of making music. The Commitments is one of the most engaging and believable novels about rock'n'roll ever written, a book whose brashness and originality have won it mainstream acclaim and underground cachet.
—We’ll ask Jimmy, said Outspan. —Jimmy’ll know.
Jimmy Rabbitte knew his music. He knew his stuff alright. You’d never see Jimmy coming home from town without a new album or a 12-inch or at least a 7-inch single. Jimmy ate Melody Maker and the NME every week and Hot Press every two weeks. He listened to Dave Fanning and John Peel. He even read his sisters’ Jackie when there was no one looking. So Jimmy knew his stuff.
The last time Outspan had flicked through Jimmy’s records he’d seen names like Microdisney, Eddie and the Hot Rods, Otis Redding, The Screaming Blue Messiahs, Scraping Foetus off the Wheel (—Foetus, said Outspan. —That’s the little young fella inside the woman, isn’t it?
—Yeah, said Jimmy.
—Aah, that’s fuckin’ horrible, tha’ is.); groups Outspan had never heard of, never mind heard. Jimmy even had albums by Frank Sinatra and The Monkees.
So when Outspan and Derek decided, while Ray was out in the jacks, that their group needed a new direction they both thought of Jimmy. Jimmy knew what was what. Jimmy knew what was new, what was new but wouldn’t be for long and what was going to be new. Jimmy had Relax before anyone had heard of Frankie Goes to Hollywood and he’d started slagging them months before anyone realized that they were no good. Jimmy knew his music.
Outspan, Derek and Ray’s group, And And And, was three days old; Ray on the Casio and his little sister’s glockenspiel, Outspan on his brother’s acoustic guitar, Derek on nothing yet but the bass guitar as soon as he’d the money saved.
—Will we tell Ray? Derek asked.
—Abou’ Jimmy? Outspan asked back.
—Yeah.
——Better not. Yet annyway.
Outspan was trying to work his thumb in under a sticker, This Guitar Kills Fascists, his brother, an awful hippy, had put on it.
—There’s the flush, he said. —He’s comin’ back. We’ll see Jimmy later.
They were in Derek’s bedroom.
Ray came back in.
—I was thinkin’ there, he said. —I think maybe we should have an exclamation mark, yeh know, after the second And in the name.
—Wha’?
—It’d be And And exclamation mark, righ’, And. It’d look deadly on the posters.
Outspan said nothing while he imagined it.
—What’s an explanation mark? said Derek.
—Yeh know, said Ray.
He drew a big one in the air.
—Oh yeah, said Derek. —An’ where d’yeh want to put it again?
—And And,
He drew another one.
—And.
—Is it not supposed to go at the end?
—It should go up his arse, said Outspan, picking away at the sticker.
Jimmy was already there when Outspan and Derek got to the Pub.
—How’s it goin’, said Jimmy.
—Howyeh, Jim, said Outspan.
—Howayeh, said Derek.
They got stools and formed a little semicircle at the bar.
—Been ridin’ annythin’ since I seen yis last? Jimmy asked them.
—No way, said Outspan. —We’ve been much too busy for tha’ sort o’ thing. Isn’t tha’ righ’?
—Yeah, that’s righ’, said Derek.
—Puttin’ the finishin’ touches to your album? said Jimmy.
—Puttin’ the finishin’ touches to our name, said Outspan.
—Wha’ are yis now?
—And And exclamation mark, righ’? ——And, said Derek.
Jimmy grinned a sneer.
—Fuck, fuck, exclamation mark, me. I bet I know who thought o’ tha’.
—There’ll be a little face on the dot, righ’, Outspan explained.
—An’ yeh know the line on the top of it? That’s the dot’s fringe.
—Black an’ whi’e or colour?
—Don’t know.
—It’s been done before, Jimmy was happy to tell them. —Ska. Madness, The Specials. Little black an’ whi’e men. ——I told yis, he hasn’t a clue.
——Yeah, said Outspan.
—He owns the synth though, said Derek.
—Does he call tha’ fuckin’ yoke a synth? said Jimmy.
—Annyway, no one uses them annymore. It’s back to basics.
—Just as well, said Outspan. —Cos we’ve fuck all else.
—Wha’ tracks are yis doin’? Jimmy asked.
—Tha’ one, Masters and Servants.
—Depeche Mode?
—Yeah.
Outspan was embarrassed. He didn’t know why. He didn’t mind the song. But Jimmy had a face on him.
—It’s good, tha’, said Derek. —The words are good, yeh know ——good.
—It’s just fuckin’ art school stuff, said Jimmy.
That was the killer argument, Outspan knew, although he didn’t know what it meant.
Derek did.
—Hang on, Jimmy, he said. —That’s not fair now. The Beatles went to art school.
—That’s different.
—Me hole it is, said Derek. —An’ Roxy Music went to art school an’ you have all their albums, so yeh can fuck off with yourself.
Jimmy was fighting back a redner.
—I didn’t mean it like tha’, he said. —It’s not the fact tha’ they went to fuckin’ art school that’s wrong with them. It’s —(Jimmy was struggling.) —more to do with —(Now he had something.) ——the way their stuff, their songs like, are aimed at gits like themselves. Wankers with funny haircuts. An’ rich das. ——An’ fuck all else to do all day ’cept prickin’ around with synths.
—Tha’ sounds like me arse, said Outspan. —But I’m sure you’re righ’.
—Wha’ else d’yis do?
—Nothin’ yet really, said Derek. —Ray wants to do tha’ one, Louise. It’s easy.
—Human League?
—Yeah.
Jimmy pushed his eyebrows up and whistled.
They agreed with him.
Jimmy spoke. —Why exactly ——d’yis want to be in a group?
—Wha’ d’yeh mean? Outspan asked.
He approved of Jimmy’s question though. It was getting to what was bothering him, and probably Derek too.
Release Date: August 14, 1991
Release Time: 118 minutes
Director: Alan Parker
Cast:
Robert Arkins as Jimmy Rabbitte
Michael Aherne as Steven Clifford
Angeline Ball as Imelda Quirke
Maria Doyle as Natalie Murphy
Dave Finnegan as Mickah Wallace
Bronagh Gallagher as Bernie McGloughlin
Félim Gormley as Dean Fay
Glen Hansard as Outspan Foster
Dick Massey as Billy Mooney
Johnny Murphy as Joey "The Lips" Fagan
Kenneth McCluskey as Derek Scully
Andrew Strong as Deco Cuffe
Colm Meaney as Mr. Rabbitte
Anne Kent as Mrs. Rabbitte
Andrea Corr as Sharon Rabbitte
Gerard Cassoni as Darren Rabbitte
Awards:
64th Academy Awards - March 30, 1992
Best Film Editing - Gerry Hambling - Nominated
45th BAFTAs - March 22, 1992
Best Film - Won
Best Direction - Alan Parker - Won
Best Adapted Screenplay - Dick Clement, Ian La Frenais, Roddy Doyle - Won
Best Editing - Gerry Hambling - Won
Best Supporting Actor - Andrew Strong - Nominated
Best Sound - Clive Winter, Eddy Joseph, Andy Nelson, Tom Perry, Steve Pederson - Nominated
49th Golden Globes - January 18, 1992
Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy - Nominated
Roddy Doyle is an Irish novelist, dramatist and screenwriter. He is the author of ten novels for adults, seven books for children, seven plays and screenplays, and dozens of short stories. Several of his books have been made into films, beginning with The Commitments in 1991. Doyle's work is set primarily in Ireland, especially working-class Dublin, and is notable for its heavy use of dialogue written in slang and Irish English dialect. Doyle was awarded the Booker Prize in 1993 for his novel Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha.
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