“A bittersweet portrait of a dying culture.”

Despite the name, Irish Travellers these days are for the most part no longer a nomadic people. An ethno-cultural group originating in Ireland currently estimated at around 30,000 people, most of whom now live in regular ‘brick and mortar’ houses or caravans, they are often looked at with disdain by non-members, much like other itinerant groups across Europe such as the Romani or Sinti people. In French-Irish director Alexander Murphy’s second feature-length doc Tin Castle, one Traveller blatantly says that no one will take a Traveller into work. A look into a vulnerable community and a tightly knit family of 12, Tin Castle is a bittersweet portrait of a dying culture, but also one that will not die out without a fight.

Pa’ O’Reilly and his wife Lisa live together with their 10 children in a caravan, the titular ‘tin castle’. Located beside a country road, the caravan that has clearly seen better days has been their home for 14 years, but they are on the brink of eviction. As the film tracks the O’Reilly family going through the seasons, Pa’ and the older boys tend to their horses, their whippets give birth to a litter of puppies, their oldest, Sean, proposes to his girlfriend, and Pa’ does a stint in jail. But through the cold and the heat, their tin castle is the heart of this family. The local authorities do try to gently push them out, offering an estate dwelling, but this is not their way. The possibility of buying a new caravan falters under the critical eye of Pa’. So they plod on.

Murphy’s slice-of-life portrait paints an insightful picture of a family and perhaps a culture under pressure. This seems to gnaw most at Pa’, a man with both physical and mental health issues, and also a man of few words. Murphy’s camera often catches him staring off into the distance, withdrawn into his own world, and rarely showing signs of emotion. His wife, big fake eyelashes and all, is the assertive half of the marriage, and seemingly also the one more willing to give up this life. She is often on the phone, trying to secure a new part for their battered old Honda or having solicitors fight her husband’s jail time. Despite the differences in character, what they share is a love for their children. Although Travellers generally suffer from a bad image (Brad Pitt’s pikey character in Snatch is an Irish Traveller, for instance), what comes through is how well-behaved and respectful these kids are, which makes one of the main takeaways from Tin Castle that this reputation is unfounded and quite frankly bigoted.

Murphy’s observant camera often films the family up close (space inside the caravan is so cramped it’s hard not to), registering the emotional details in the parents’ faces. There is no commentary or judgement, but there is great attention to detail. Religion is not talked about, yet a single shot of Pa’ sitting next to a large painting of the pope, presumably the previous one, tells the audience everything (Irish Travellers are predominantly Catholic). Moments like this show a good eye for saying much with very little, a useful trait when telling a story in images like Murphy does in Tin Castle. With so many children around it’s a miracle the fourth wall is broken just a few times; perhaps this is a result of editing, or of the kids being disciplined enough to not break it, but when it does happen it provides moments of levity. There are few of those, because despite the O’Reillys being a seemingly happy family, there is no denying that the life of a Traveller is a tough one. With Tin Castle, Murphy delivers a tender portrait of a marginalized group that gets a bad rep, but also perhaps the last snapshot of a dying culture.