prolific.org » neil jordan http://prolific.org ISSN 1568-2218 | Established 1999 Mon, 06 Feb 2012 17:08:44 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.3 “Nous ne comprenons pas les Paddies” http://prolific.org/2005/02/02/nous-ne-comprenons-pas-les-paddies/ http://prolific.org/2005/02/02/nous-ne-comprenons-pas-les-paddies/#comments Wed, 02 Feb 2005 23:14:59 +0000 Caroline http://vonbpress.com/2005/02/02/nous-ne-comprenons-pas-les-paddies/ Continue reading →]]> Funny French. The Cannes festival has in the past refused to show Jim Sheridan’s My Left Foot (awards), and Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game (awards).

The only Irish film to open at Cannes has been John Boorman’s The General. Fuck sake.

Oh well… cross fingers for Petit-déjeuner sur Pluton.

]]> http://prolific.org/2005/02/02/nous-ne-comprenons-pas-les-paddies/feed/ 0 On a quiet street where old ghosts meet http://prolific.org/2004/10/03/on-a-quiet-street-where-old-ghosts-meet/ http://prolific.org/2004/10/03/on-a-quiet-street-where-old-ghosts-meet/#comments Sun, 03 Oct 2004 15:59:06 +0000 Caroline http://vonbpress.com/2004/10/03/on-a-quiet-street-where-old-ghosts-meet/ Continue reading →]]> Don’t get me wrong, the (Irish) country side is very pretty, but I really am a city girl. Dublin just puts a smile on my face. I feel much more at home here now that I was traipsing around sheep dung in the Gaeltacht. Though I did pick up a fetching Northern twang.

Dublin is about chance meetings and surprising conversation.

Yesterday, as I walked by the set of Breakfast on Pluto at the Ierne on Parnell Square, I saw two blokes that looked like gaffers outside on the doorstep. I thought, sure, I’ll walk up and ask if himself is around. As I approached and looked the one guy in the face I realised the ‘gaffer’ was none other than Neil Jordan himself.

I think I just about pulled off the ‘I have no idea who you are’ look on my face.

Later it was business as usual, old friends in the Library bar, talking about the ones that went before us and dissecting Hot Press with one of its writers. And me downing the vodka & tonics without getting a hint of a buzz.

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