13 Sins to Confess with Aislinn Clarke

1

Irish history and folklore have seen a remarkable resurgence in recent films, both in the horror genre and beyond. What is driving this renewed interest, and why are these themes resonating so strongly today? Do you believe there is an urgent need to tell these stories now?

Ireland hasn't fully or comfortably reckoned with the 20th century yet. The women who suffered in the Magdalene Laundries and Mother and Baby Homes haven't been properly recompensed. The peace-process delivered an end to the Troubles, but no stability or future. There are many things that happened that haven't been redressed and we are edging further and further away from them.

If we don't deal with them within the lifetime of those immediately and adversely affected, should be surprised when they come back as ghosts. That's the heart of folklore and folk horror as well, that something ancient and unresolved still lives with us.

2

Both The Devil’s Doorway and Freweka explore religious themes. Does this stem from personal background, or is it a subject you’re particularly drawn to artistically?

I don't think it is possible for an Irish person to be unaffected by the aesthetics of Catholicism. There's a lot of allure there – like every little Irish girl, I wanted to be a nun. But, as you get closer to that lure, you see the cracks, the problems, and tendrils that tangle up people's lives.

Not all Irish stories – just like not all Irish people – are Catholic or religious in nature, but I think most of the horror stories are. There's no escaping that.

3

Would you say your films lean more toward social critique, or is your primary focus on the art of storytelling itself?

I always want to tell stories about people first and, to successfully portray people, you have to get at the truth of their lives. That invariably means recognising the social factors and constraints that restrict their lives.

If that results in critique, then that says something more about society than it does about me as a storyteller.

4

Who are your biggest influences in horror and cinema? What first sparked your passion for filmmaking?

David Lynch, Stephen King, Alfred Hitchcock. The first films I remember seeing and enjoying were "The Exorcist," "Nightmare on Elm Street," and various Hammer films. However, the biggest influence was my da. He was the one who rented the horror movies from the video man, while my mother turned her back to the TV, to scared to watch. He was into gadgets and tech too.

He bought a camera and we made my first film together – it was a silent film and I was the star, pretending to dangle from a precipice at Roche Castle just outside Dundalk. He sent the film to my uncle Paddy who lived in London who was even more hi-tech. He edited it and added a score.

That probably influenced me more than anything.

5

Horror has seen a surge of incredible female directors in recent years, bringing fresh perspectives and deeper emotional layers to the genre. As a filmmaker, how do you think your perspective as a woman influences the way you craft fear and tension on screen?

I don't know if it does. I also don't know if it doesn't. Horror, like comedy, is a primal response and we can only fear we genuinely fear. I craft my films from what scares me, some of which may be because of my experiences as woman, but as much of it comes from other places.

There is a dark primordial centre to all of us – I don't know that everyone finds the same fears in there, but there are many that resonate for us all.

6

Could you share more about Freweka, the story that inspired it, and how you hope audiences will interpret it?

"Fréwaka" is about the intergenerational trauma that plagues Irish life and the lives of women especially, how the historical ill-treatment of one woman passes down through her family to effect more and more women.

They don't need to know the trauma in order to feel its effects. It is about how, though culture may branch off in different directions and understandings of things, the roots (as the Irish title, Fréamacha, alludes to) remain the same. Thus, the rituals and practices one employs to ward off Na Sídhe (the Irish fairies that are antagonists in the film), such as counting to certain numbers, etc. are not dissimilar to obsessive compulsive tics.

The song that opens the film, Dearg Doom by Horslips, situates the films beginning in 1973, but also incorporates an ancient Irish war-tune, O'Neill's March, so everything that been interpreted several ways, while going back to an unnamed, unknowable source.

7

"The Devil’s Doorway" utilized the found footage technique, whereas "Freweka" takes a distinctly different approach, evoking the style of classic horror films. However, both films share a deep ability to unsettle and captivate the audience.  How do you approach experimenting with different directing styles, and what draws you to these varied techniques?

There is not much opportunity to experiment with directing style. When you're on set, you have however many days to get it done. "The Devil's Doorway" was produced under particular circumstances, whereby the film was agreed to be a found-footage film before I was brought on to develop it.

As much as I love found-footage and think it works well for the film itself, I wouldn't necessarily have made that call. That said, my early short films employed a lot of different forms. They were silent films and photo films and stop-motion.

I got into film precisely because I am interested in all its forms and possibilities. I want to find the right form for the story I'm going to tell.

8

With "Devil’s Doorway" rooted in the real-life horrors of the Magdalene Laundries, how do you think cinema’s growing focus on these stories shapes our understanding of historical injustices? Additionally, what responsibilities do filmmakers bear when depicting such harrowing truths?

In making "The Devil's Doorway," it was crucial for me to respect the victims of the Magdalene Laundries and fully recognised the nuanced lives of the nuns and priests, while I attempted to concretise the evil of those places into actual monsters.

From a horror perspective, we can only do so much to help understand the complexities of the unjust situations such as these, but we can convey the emotional truth much more forcefully – there is fear, anxiety, frustration, hopelessness and, if we capture those truthfully, then we can stir empathy within the viewer.

9

Your films are rich with references and intricate details that reward attentive viewers. How do you weave these layers into your storytelling, and do you have a favorite hidden detail that audiences might have overlooked?

Film is, really, a very concise form. You've got to say everything in 90 minutes to 2 hours and a lot of that has to be plot. In the process of keeping everything tight and essential, you find ways to say the things you don't have time to say – that's through references and symbols, things that are on the periphery or in the soundtrack.

When you decide how you're going to do a certain things from a practical standpoint, you then ask yourself how it can also deeper your characters, articulate your themes, or otherwise reward the viewer. For example, audiences outside Ireland might not understand the cultural significance of the song that opens the film, Dearg Doom by Horslips.

Not only does this place the opening sequence in time, but it establishes a musical theme – O'Neill's March, an ancient Irish war tune – that will come back again later. But that action of reiterating an ancient theme is also subject of the film – how patterns repeat through generations and how the present Ireland cannot be disentangled from ancient Ireland.

10

Trauma is a central theme in much of the horror genre, with each director exploring it in their own unique way. How do you approach the subject of trauma in your films, and what role does it play in your storytelling? Additionally, what message do you hope audiences take away from your portrayal of it?

I don't know that I approach trauma directly, so much as I want to get at the emotional truth of a situation, which usually means understanding and unpicking the backstory that brought a person to this place. That invariably means some traumatic experience that holds back a character or impinges on or pressures them in some way. In Ireland that often ties into a broad cultural trauma.

But the purpose of the storytelling is the unpicking, loosening the knot that holds the person in place. That doesn't mean the film should have a happy resolution – neither of my features does – but, even by watching the characters fail to get out of their situation, the viewer can better understand the character and themselves.

11

Your films often depict raw, cold, and cruel realities, yet they carry a deeply unique emotional pathos. How do you balance that stark brutality with such profound emotional depth, and what draws you to explore that contrast? 

I think that is the purpose of art, isn't it? The universe doesn't consider us and doesn't value us, but, in art, we create a universe that we can consider and find value in. 

12

You have directed short films, series episodes, and feature-length films. What are the key differences between these formats, and what unique challenges does each present?

Content and format find each other. A short film is more like a joke. A feature is more like a piece of music. TV is more like an equation.

13

Are you currently developing a new project, or are you taking a moment to reflect on "Freweka"’s success? Looking ahead, what excites you most about the future of your work?

I am always working on projects. You have to work on multiple projects at once, as you never know which one is the one that will suddenly be financed and shooting in a few months time.

Thus, you can't get too excited about any particular idea until you are fully in it. But, at the same time, they will each one will burn at the back of your brain until the moment comes around.

That's the most exciting thing!

Here's below you will find the links where you can find "Aislinn Clarke" on Instagram:

Instagram