BY JOHN FITZGERALD
(PART THREE)
Continuing the story of the “Breakfast on Pluto” movie days in Callan…twenty years ago this month…
The five or six men who pushed an old Morris Minor up and down the street looked a bit browned off, but they persevered and after many takes, they took a well-earned rest. Nobody said it was going to be easy.
But there was glamour and potential stardom for Anne Vaughan’s baby, Faye. Half-way through the night’s filming, Neil Jordan emerged from the Big Chapel and strode across to the phalanx of spectators on the opposite side of the street. He was looking for a suitable baby who might play Patrick Braden as a boy child. Eureka!
The sight of baby Faye’s big blue eyes caught his attention. Anne readily consented to allow her to audition for the role.
Faye displayed a remarkable restraint in the church, and equally so in the following days when Ruth McCabe rolled her in a pram near Margaret Fennelly’s (Ma Braden’s in the movie).
A car bomb explosion at the Town Cross dominated the action on Day Nine, though the actual blast was something of a damp squib for locals expecting a bang to end to all bangs.
Eileen Vaughan, who runs a chipper-takeaway at the site of the controlled explosion, said she hoped Callan would benefit in the long term if the film went on to win awards and critical acclaim.
The anti-internment march was more impressive than the explosion. A huge contingent of local extras participated. They looked the part as they chanted propaganda slogans about Long Kesh and the Brits.
Day Ten was by far the most popular and exciting from a local point of view: Late that night, almost the entire population of Callan looked on as plumes of smoke began to rise from the Big Chapel.
Then flames started to flicker from the doorways and along the roof of the historic building. Within minutes the entire church was engulfed by fire. Onlookers gasped with amazement and admiration, as their beloved place of worship appeared to go up in smoke in a final blaze of glory to round off its decades of service to the Catholic Faithful. County Cavan Fire Brigade was quickly on the scene to save the church.
The mammoth statue of Edmund Rice, founder of the Christian Brothers, had dozens of people of all ages climbing on to it as they sought a better view of the pyrotechnics. A woman standing near me wondered aloud what Blessed Edmund would have to say about these weird and wonderful events.
Callan’s pious PP and his curate seemed in a trance as they beheld the towering inferno. They looked as if the Dalek had come back and zapped them with its death ray, freezing them to where they stood.
The special effects crew quenched the fire within seconds of each take ending. The crowd applauded their expertise. The fun drew to a close after midnight, marking the end of this dramatic highpoint of a town’s flirtation with the make-believe world of movies.
All that remained was the shooting of a scene in Hennessey’s old butcher shop in West Street. Locals remarked that it was long time since they had seen a pig’s head in a shop window.
Callan was like a ghost town within hours of the film crew’s departure. The adventure was over. The seventies look had gone and the 21st century was back with the cold light of Monday morning.
For the hundreds of extras, life had returned to normal. No more would they, and the throngs of sightseers, hear the loud commands echo along our streets: “Action” … “Reverse Positions” … “Rolling…Quiet Please”
But locals were counting the hours to when Breakfast on Pluto hits the Silver Screen. One did not need a crystal ball to predict that there would be an EXODUS from Callan on opening night!
