Story by Michele Doolan and Brad Balfour
Portrait by Brad Balfour

Dubliner Murphy speaks in soft tones, with a genteel air that hardly suggests her present status as the Irish filmmaker of the moment. Though she had already made two attention-getting films, it has taken making a film about Ireland's most influential author of all time, James Augustine Joyce, to garner Murphy the scrutiny granted to other Irish movie directors. While in New York to start the crucial post-production process of securing distribution for her Irish-festival award-winning indie film Nora, Murphy spoke about her creative process and early aspirations to filmmaking. Says the Dublin bred cineaste, "this film is a portrait of a marriage--it is the story of their special relationship. Nora really inspired Joyce. I did not want to make a biopic--I am looking for a broad-based audience--men, women not just literary types. It is difficult to work with a man who is so literary and make [his material] visual as you must when making a film." One reason Murphy was compelled to make the film was its fundamental story; Joyce was simply amazed by the luck he had in meeting Nora Barnacle. Nora represented his other half--within that context she was his equal. Though Nora was hardly the typical literary wife, that did not matter to Joyce. Their falling in love was as much a puzzlement as well as a miracle.

It's no wonder Murphy was so well attuned to such a process given that the inspiration for this film is Brenda Maddox's excellent biography Nora, The Real Life of Molly Bloom. The book deftly documents this unique and complex relationship between probably the most impenetrable writer ever to have lived and the bold figure that he fell in love with. When they met she was a chambermaid at Finn's Hotel, able to hold her own with Joyce because he became incredibly dependent on her for support and strength.

Just as Joyce's relationship with Nora demanded a certain endurance, tenacity, and patience; the making of this film required a similar response on Murphy's part. "First I bought the rights to Maddox's book. It positions Nora properly. You understand why Joyce loved her and how she inspired him," explains the 40-plus director/writer. "In the beginning I made the mistake of thinking that Nora was not that important because she was not that literary. But after reading the book I changed my point of view and saw her tremendous influence on her husband.

"I acquired the rights in 1991. I spent three years making notes and working on the script. Then I worked with Geny Stembridge, the writer and director on the remaining drafts. From those four years with Stembridge (he made Guilt Trip) I then worked with my partner, Tieman McBride, who was in his early '60s when he died of a heart attack in '95. After his death I was not sure I wanted to continue with this project." Nonetheless, Murphy persevered. "The film fell apart twice, but I continued on and we shot it last year in eight weeks which was phenomenal--three weeks in Dublin, three weeks in Trieste and one week in Germany. We picked up some crew in the different countries. Each moment became special. The privilege of finally being able to make this film is wonderful. It describes the heroic life the Joyces had together--that's what I was doing."

Murphy also made the prescient decision to cast someone who would later become far more inaccessible-once he had played a lead in the latest Star Wars. She recalls, "In 1996 we began casting the film. We selected Ewan McCregor and Susan Lynch. I was blessed to have such wonderful peopie."

Of course, Murphy's exposure to Joyce didn't begin with her work on this film or by just reading the Maddox book. The angelic looking filmmaker has been involved with literature and the arts for many years. "I read a great deal about Joyce when I was growing up," Murphy outlines. "What he does with language is vel-y interesting. Joyce's work is very structured."

Murphy's background in the arts is deep-seated since her early days "I grew up in Dublin. Then the family moved to Belfast where I went to art college," she recalls.'"Then I went to London where I went to film school but didn't enjoy going to school there. In the '70s I won a scholarship for the Whitney Program in New York. They had few European students then."

"I stayed with a friend on Duane Street which I really liked. I was there for two years and then moved back to Dublin. Recently I had a return, ofr sorts to film school. I taught some graduate students in Galway. ~I found them to be fantastic and inspiring."

Murphy appears to be in her mid-30s, yet she has been making art since the early '70s. "First, I did paintings. Then they became performancebased. That effort eventually turned to filmmaking. My first, Maeve, was very much a young woman's film. It's an experimental film that was shown at New York's Public Theatre. Anne Devlin was more straightforward. The narrative happened in the right order, but it's still an art house film. I put the Devlin character at the center of rebellion. I stayed with the experience. In Ireland women are usually handmaidens, so I portray my women as strong. My male characters are equally strong."

That strength translated itself into her deft positioning as a directorial leading lady. Irish cinema has evolved since the days of Darby O'Gill and the Little People . Directors Jim Sheridan, Neil Jordan and others are A-listed as art house Oscar winners and producers of commercial successes. For a long time women have been on the short end of this list, with few being established on screen and almost never from behind the camera.

Now in her own small way Murphy is correcting that imbalance. "I don't follow any great career path but presently I am working on another film a love story. Nora is coming to America at the end of this year. In this film I tried to make a portrait of Dublin in Joyce's time. I am with Nora until the end of the summer--then I'11 have some writing time. I'11 go to a festival in Munich and then back to Dublin. Of course one wonders whether Murphy had seen the other films inspired by Joyce's work. "Somehow I thought that Ulysses was not quite successful. However I did like Portrait of the Artist As A Young Man."

Then she spoke of other filmmakers she appreciates such as Gus Van Sant (I liked My Private Idaho and actors ("did you see Jane Birkin in Dust? She's a good actress and responds well to her director"). "Women do deal more honestly with sexuality. Jane Campion's films [such as The Piano] deal with the subject honestly. I liked her film of Portrait of a Lady."

Murphy's film was a labor of love, and it celebrates the collaboration on and off the camera with her late filmmaking partner and long time lover McBride. She describes her former relationship as not having the intensity of the Joyces yet she could still relate to this couple's experience. Murphy waxes expressively about this talented man. "Tieman had a great commitment to directors and other filmma-kers. He thought about other people rather than himself which is extremely rare. Most filmmakers think only of themselves and put themselves first."

So as Joyce lauded the first day he and Nora met, June 16th (Bloomsday), it is a fitting tribute to Tiernan that Murphy dedicated this film to his memory. Says Murphy, "The film describes heroic lives. The voltage created by the Joyces was inspiring."

In Nora, Murphy celebrates neither creator nor inspiration but two characters trying to live with their love. "Nora was not literary and was never really a part of his literary world. They were opposite but equals. Joyce's letters to Nora are to an equal. Joyce always asked Nora to read his writing and her opinion was of great importance. He thought of leaving her fairly early on in Trieste when things became difficult due to the lack of funds but he knew in his heart that he never would." Muses Murphy while sipping her coffee. "Making this film takes life experience--I could not have made it when I was younger. I like to show the inspired mistakes you make when you fall in love with another person. In the beginning you are not being yourself--instead, you keep adjusting to the other person. In a similar fashion, you can't just be yourself; when you make a film you have to make yourself somehow transparent."