Rocky Road to Dublin 1968

A concise, textured look at Irish history since the Easter Rising of 1916 traces how the early dreams of a republican society, championed by the founders of the Irish Free State, were tempered by rolling social, political, and cultural changes. In the film, the writer Seán Ó Faoláin argues that, after the revolutionary period, the hoped-for transformation did not fully take hold, and the narrative unfolds through a blend of archival voices and observational scenes.

The documentary places the enduring sway of the Anglo-Irish aristocracy at its center, illustrating this old order with scenes of hunting, dressage, and genteel fare that contrast with the country’s evolving sense of nationhood. It also touches on how Ireland’s foreign policy has sometimes seemed tethered to American interests, a point of view voiced by Conor Cruise O’Brien who suggests Ireland could chart a more independent course, perhaps taking a page from Sweden’s example.

Within the discourse on public life, the film gives space to the editor of The Irish Times, Douglas Gageby, who advocates opening up debate over contraception and reflects on the friction between censorship and free expression. He notes how the older generation clings to established norms while younger people push for change, and he observes that students at Trinity College Dublin are openly critical of the Irish media, including his own newspaper.

A major thread follows the once-powerful Gaelic Athletic Association, detailing its 500,000-strong policy that discouraged engagement with foreign sports and the day it moved away from enforcing that ban in 1971. This shift is set against broader conversations about national identity and cultural allegiance.

The film then turns to Ireland’s literary landscape, presenting the emigration of Irish writers as one of the country’s most infamous exports in the face of state censorship. A roll call of writers and their banned works unfolds against the tolling of church bells, while a censorship appeals board member weighs the ongoing tension between faith, art, and speech. In this broader critique, Liam Ó Briain provides a thoughtful comparison between Ireland and Britain, noting Britain’s perceived loss of faith and moral structure, even as he acknowledges the era’s scientific and philosophical shifts and their impact on faith.

Educational life comes under scrutiny as the film surveys the clergy’s influence over schooling. A Christian Brothers classroom shows pupils reciting catechism, and the social fabric—where single-sex schooling shaped interactions and middle-class youth found their social space in tennis club dances—highlights a stark contrast with newer, more modern venues.

The close relationship between politics and the clergy is depicted not as a conspiracy but as a longstanding habit. Before the Second Vatican Council, clergy were portrayed as guardians of simple faith, while the hierarchy, later, allowed some relaxation. The film even features Father Michael Cleary in a moment that underscores the church’s nuanced engagement with contemporary life, including music and social rituals that bring it into closer contact with everyday people.

Centrally, the film explores how clerical authority extended into family life. A young married woman recounts her story of navigating contraception within a Catholic framework, where confession and advice from priests often placed men at the center. She and her husband ultimately abandon contraception, and she experiences a miscarriage, a narrative arc that reveals the persistent tension between personal experience and church doctrine while leaving her identity as a Catholic intact.

As it moves toward its close, the film acknowledges that the cultural and moral orthodoxies under scrutiny are on the cusp of change, even as critic Liam Ó Briain voices cautious optimism for a future that can retain heritage while embracing new ideas. The documentary concludes with a stark, memorable image—a freeze-frame of two boys in a boat, one gazing directly at the camera—leaving viewers with a quiet, reflective sense of possibility and uncertainty about Ireland’s evolving identity.