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Celtic Film and Television Festival

This Wednesday 500 Celts will invade Dundee for the 25th Celtic Film and Television Festival, celebrating its anniversary with a host of events and screenings from across the Celtic countries. The opening night sees the Scottish premiere of Blind Flight, a film about the two hostages, Brian Keenan and John McCarthy, who spent over four years captive in the Lebanon – Keenan himself will be at the screening.

Jazz musician Willie Ruff, a contemporary of Duke Ellington’s and now a Professor at Yale University, will visit the Festival to reveal the extraordinary link between Gaelic psalm singing and Gospel music, and writer Jimmy McGovern will talk about his latest TV epic, Gunpowder, Treason and Plot. Media types from across the Celtic world will collide and collude in the City of Discovery for four frenzied days of activity ending with a big bash on Saturday night.

It all started 25 years ago in a community hall in South Uist – or actually, according to its founding director, Michael Russell – in the bath. “You know when you have an idea in your bath one night,” says the former politician, “you think it would be a good idea and it just happens, but if you stood back and looked at it you’d think it was impossible to do.” Fortunately Russell never stood back (although he did get out of the bath), and in 1980 the Celtic Film and Television Festival (CFTF) was born.

The first Festival attracted 50 delegates to the Western Isles, from all over Ireland, Scotland, Wales and Brittany. After three days of seminars and screenings in village halls “from the Butt to Barra”, everyone wanted more. “I remember when we did the first one,” Russell reminisces, “Lynda Myles – who was directing the Edinburgh Film Festival at the time – told me that we could only do one because there wouldn’t be enough material to look at after that. And now the 25th one is taking place.”

The Festival – like a Celtic Oscars but with more drinking and arguing – rotates annually between the Celtic countries, awarding 19 prizes every year. These come in the shape of a torc – a sort of horse-shoe shaped necklace – and I should confess I have my eye on the animation one, for which I’ve been nominated this year. It would look good on my mantelpiece, between the gay flamingos and the clockwork chick.

Frances Hendron, the Festival’s current Director, has been putting together a montage of the winning works from the past 25 years, and some clear patterns have emerged. “What we’re seeing is the Welsh being very strong in drama, the Irish having a great sense of humour, the Scots making really strong, beautiful documentaries and the Bretons excelling in animation. And the Cornish enthusiasm, and their need to make sure their voice is heard, is energizing. They have a great hunger to be part of the family, to make their way in the Celtic world.”

Although the Festival’s official aim is “to promote the languages and cultures of the Celtic countries on screen”, the selection panel takes a fairly relaxed view of what constitutes Celticness – so this year, Scottish nominees include Alison Peebles’ award-winning film Afterlife, and an episode of Panorama, alongside Gaelic programmes such as BBC Scotland’s children’s series, Na Daoine Beaga (The Little People).

“It allows a minority language programme to be in competition with a majority language programme,” explains Hendron, “and basically we’re looking for the best. The CFTF could be a minority language event, but it would be hard to truly reflect what was happening in any one country as opposed to one aspect of the industry in that country.”

Many would take issue with that, and probably will. There’s always plenty opportunity for debate, in and out of the formal sessions. “It wouldn’t be the CFTF if it wasn’t a bit internecine,” admits Russell. “There’s warfare every year: factions fighting other factions and a bit of juggling for position, but that’s the Celtic inheritance – there’s that wonderful phrase from Oscar Wilde, ‘the Irish have an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains them through temporary periods of joy’.”

Russell plans to start a fight himself this Saturday, in a debate about the Festival’s successes and failures over the last 25 years. “It’s bigger and more glitzy than it’s ever been,” he says. “but I think what it lacks is the way in which it can influence events, and that implies some strengthening of the trade association aspect. For example I haven’t seen the association give evidence to a Scottish Parliamentary committee. I think it should.”

Alongside the heavyweight political arguments, there are a few more light-hearted ones, like Stuart Cosgrove’s session, “Football, the New Culture?” and Alasdair Moffat’s “trivial and ill-informed guide to pitching”. These, and most of the Festival’s other events, are open to the public as well as industry delegates – the full programme is on the web and tickets will be sold at the door. You could be forgiven for choosing to avoid screenings which include old editions of Reporting Scotland and Westcountry Live, but then again, few of the delegates will bother with these either.

In fact, the screenings often remain empty at this festival while the bars are crammed full, but that’s how business is conducted, and no-one seems to mind. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” laughs Russell. “I was once toasted on the ferry after a Breton Festival by a very distinguished Welsh actor, standing on a table, with the words, ‘here’s to founding the biggest piss-up in Celtic history!’”

And here’s to another 25 years.

Catrìona Black, Sunday Herald 28.03.04