In Boston College’s Burns Library, where stained glass windows cast prismatic light across carved-wood bookcases and stone angels stand sentinel, Irish filmmaker Joe Comerford’s 1988 film Reefer and the Model found a fitting home for its American revival.
The film, a sharp-edged slice of Irish realism, hadn’t graced U.S. screens since the American Film Institutes’ Los Angeles Film Festival in 1990. Now, lovingly restored by the Irish Film Institute, it returned to captivate a new audience.
As twilight descended on the library’s collection of Irish and Irish American works, Comerford himself remarked on the intensity of the surroundings. He expressed a desire for daylight to stream through the colorful windows during the screening, as if the film and its environs were engaged in a dance of light and shadow, of past and present.
Reefer and the Model, dubbed the 2023 Director’s Cut, is more than just a restored film—it’s a testament to Ireland’s commitment to preserving its cinematic heritage. Part of the film production company Screen Ireland’s ambitious five-year project to digitize 25 classic Irish films, this restoration offered Comerford an unexpected opportunity to revisit and refine his work.
“I always felt the film was not finished,” Comerford said.
Over the years, he had made mental notes and provisional plans for changes he would make if given the chance. This restoration project, then, was not just about preservation, but about fulfillment—a director’s vision, long deferred, finally realized.
The film itself is a raw, unflinching portrait of a makeshift family bound not by blood or affection, but by circumstance and necessity.
Reefer (Ian McElhinney), an ex-Irish Republican Army member turned ferryman, navigates not just the waters between Galway’s coast and the Aran Islands, but the turbulent seas of Ireland’s recent past.
When he picks up Teresa ‘the Model’ (Carol Moore) off the side of the road—a pregnant woman fleeing a life of addiction and prostitution in England—their unlikely romance unfolds against a backdrop of petty crime and resistance.
Comerford’s aim, as he explained it, was to create a story about people thrown together by life’s cruel whims rather than any particular affinity. It’s a dysfunctional family drama writ large, with Ireland’s sociopolitical landscape serving as both stage and player.
The filmmaker wove in what he considered Irish society’s most contentious issues at the time, creating a complex and troubled tapestry.
“You are capturing a time without almost being conscious of it,” Comerford said.
Indeed, watching Reefer and the Model today is like opening a time capsule. Scenes depicting homosexual relationships, political violence, and struggles against institutional power serve as stark reminders of a nation’s journey.
Comerford’s approach to filmmaking is as direct and uncompromising as his characters.
“If I haven’t experienced that something is true, I won’t put it in,” Comerford said. This philosophy stems from his belief that society often misunderstands those who are different, and that, given freedom and space, people can often resolve life’s larger questions on their own.
Here, amid the artifacts and individuals of Irish and Irish American history, Comerford’s film stands as a celluloid testament to a nation’s struggles, hopes, and enduring spirit—a piece of cinematic literature vital, complex, and exciting.
