(First published by Headstuff.org)

 

An interview with film-maker Alessandra Celesia, whose documentary The Flats, is set in New Lodge, a housing estate in north Belfast. This conversation below has been edited for concision and clarity.

 

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Q. I wonder if you could start by telling us about your own relationship to Belfast, and what made you choose the community at New Lodge as the focus for this film? I notice Jolene also appears in your previous film, The Bookseller of Belfast (2012), so presumably you knew some of these people already.

 

A. Well, I married a Belfast man back in 1997, a long time ago now. When I first came here – at the time I didn't even speak English! – I thought there's no need for another film about the Troubles, that I would never make one. But after many years my ideas changed. The Bookseller of Belfast was made very near New Lodge, on the Antrim Road. I was quite familiar with the area, and I knew that my husband's Dad had grown up there. I had seen the towers, and they reminded me of Dekalog (1989) by Kieślowski. Jolene was the first person to introduce me to North Lodge. For me, Jolene is the Belfast woman: I knew I wanted her to be in this second film. Angie was like that, too. I was thinking a long time about this project – because we didn't have the money for it, then Covid hit, and many other things. I would say seven years in total.

 

Q. One of the most striking aspects of The Flats is the trust that exists between Joe and his friends, but also between you as a director and your cast: the film is full of humour and compassion, but there is also a great deal of vulnerability and trauma, which you explore. Was this aspect of the project stressful to manage, or were there times when that trust was difficult to maintain?

 

A. For me, trust is the most important thing. I don't know how it happens, but without trust there's nothing. My job as a director is to work with people, and to be with them. It's different to fiction: these are real people, and you can't force anything. After I met Rita [Joe's therapist], she helped me to think about the traumas in this community and how to work with them. There were times of tiredness, there were times when filming was hard, but I don't think I ever betrayed their trust.

 

Q. Part of what makes the documentary so engaging is the way you allow the cast to tell their own stories, so there's a spontaneity to the film as it unfolds. But it also seems very poetic in moments: we accompany Joe as he carries a coffin up the stairs (before re-enacting his uncle's wake), but we also see Angie getting a new sun-bed delivered to her flat. There seemed to be a funny echo between those two sections of the film. Did you have a fully formed idea of what you wanted The Flats to be from the beginning, or did the shape of the film change as you were making it?

 

A. I always work with lines, the connections between things. So I knew I wanted a coffin, and I knew I wanted a sun-bed! Because both of these things are quite alike, in a way. People come together around them, they talk, the tell jokes, they speak about themselves, they share their memories. I know this myself: I have been to so many wakes in Belfast, unfortunately. That vulnerability you mentioned, I think we see it in those two scenes – with Angie and Jolene, as well as Joe. It was that scene with the sun-bed that allowed us to re-enact Angie's memories later, with Jolene playing the part. It became a collaboration, something new happened there.

 

Q. Obviously the people you met in North Lodge were the main inspiration for the film, but were there any particular cinematic influences you were drawing on (aside from Kieślowski) – like Ken Loach, say, or the Italian neorealists?

 

A. Of course, Ken Loach! And yes, the neorealists. You know, because I'm Italian, when I'm home – and I've made films in Italy – everything is dramatic and tragic and part of the culture. But when I come back to Belfast, it has a new meaning for me. I see it differently. There's a black-and-white film by Visconti called La Terra Trema (1948), about fishermen in Sicily. The film was not well liked when it came out. Because they all speak Sicilian the characters were dubbed, and it didn't work. But I loved this film. I think my own style came from it. For me, the humour in Belfast is special. People always talk about The Troubles – and we do that, too, in this film – but the humour of people is part of the life here. I wanted to reflect that.

 

Q. Joe often quotes Bobby Sands, saying “our revenge will be the laughter of our children.” Joe was just a child himself when his teenaged uncle was shot by paramilitaries, and many of the women in the film are worried about their children and young relatives. We often hear political speeches on the news about Brexit or a United Ireland: after making this film, what you think the future holds for Belfast's younger generations growing up today? (Apologies for ending on such a large question!)

 

A. I'm not sure I'm qualified to answer but I'll try. I remember one day we were coming into the flats and we passed some fifteen-year-olds in the estate. They were talking about us, and one of them said, “they must be the architects”! It was funny, but it was also sad. The anger they felt at the “architects” of the flats came from an older generation, it had passed down. But people got used to us, I think. The drugs are a big problem today. I've never been anywhere so badly affected by that issue. But it's a complicated question. Most people in Europe who are my age, maybe 50 and older, they know who Bobby Sands is. But younger people, even well educated people, don't know about him. That's why I included news footage in the film (at the beginning, there was none). The memory of the community is important. I am against division in everything, so of course I'm in favour of a United Ireland (and a United Europe, and everything else). But even in New Lodge there are layers to that question. I know there is hope in the film, not just trauma.