THE OUTCASTS (1982)

The Outcasts may well be the most memorable film ever made, for those who have seen it, that is. Its haunting imagery insinuates itself into the subconscious like a profound dream. However, this challenging and philosophically complex piece of folk horror has been all but forgotten, rarely mentioned when discussing other definitive classics of the genre such as The Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), which was also written by Robert Wynne-Simmons.

In the introduction to The Celtic Twilight, his collection of Myth, Fantasy and Folklore, the great Irish poet W.B Yeats wrote, “…are there not moods which shall find no expression unless there be men who dare to mix heaven, hell, purgatory, and faeryland together, or even to set the heads of beasts to the bodies of men, or to thrust the souls of men into the hearts of rocks?”   

It was this classic collection of authentic folk tales, first published in 1893, that inspired Robert Wynne-Simmons to do all those things in his quintessential film as a folktale, critically acclaimed at the time though rarely seen… until now. A newly restored 2K print of this neglected masterpiece is the latest title to be released on Blu-ray from the British Film Institute’s (BFI) ‘Flipside’ marque. And I, for one, haven’t been this excited about a new Blu-ray release for a very long while.

The historical setting is around 1845 at the onset of an Drochshaol, also called ‘The Great Hunger’. This was the beginning of a decade of terrible famine caused by the repeating failure of the Irish potato crop due to blight. Either starvation or disease resulting from malnutrition, decimated the population and many who had the means emigrated. Entire communities disappeared; whole villages were left abandoned. By the close of the century, the population of Ireland had shrunk to around half of its pre-famine size. The socio-political and cultural repercussions were immense, and Ireland was a very different country in the aftermath. For many, the time before an Drochshaol became mythologised with history and folklore fusing.

One of the strengths of The Outcasts is that it manages to be immersive as a believable period piece and, at the same time, tell a timeless tale of supernatural wonder with perhaps the most authentic evocations of magic in cinema. Perhaps the closest contenders would be a couple of early Peter Weir films, Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) and The Last Wave (1977), which both conjured a similar uncanny unease.

Maura (Mary Ryan) is a childlike adolescent on the cusp of womanhood whose otherness attracts the ire of local bullies. We first meet her running awkwardly from a group of vindictive youngsters who chase her down and tug off her rain-soaked petticoat before throwing it into a muddy ditch. No wonder she’s fascinated by the folktales her eldest sister, Breda (Brenda Scallon) tells around the hearth of an evening which offers some form of escape. She’s particularly affected by the story of Scarf Michael, a local ghost or fairy—Irish folklore blurs the distinction—who plays fiddle with a bow of human hair and wears a great black cape made from the shadows of the dead. To hear him play is a portent of doom.

Maura’s loneliness and feelings of being different are brought even more to the fore as her sister’s wedding approaches and she realises that this is something that will probably be denied to her. However, it seems that there are ulterior motives behind the betrothal as Janey (Bairbre Ní Chaoimh) is already ‘with child’ and the father, Eamon (Máirtín Jaimsie) happens to be the son of the neighbouring farm owner, Conor Farrell (Tom Jordan). This introduces and immediately challenges the concept of ownership of things that should belong to no one except themselves: women and the land.

It seems there has been a long-time feud between Conor and Maura’s father, Hugh O’Donnell (Don Foley). Having no sons, he realises that he’ll be making Eamon the heir to his land through marriage and, given Janey’s ‘condition’, he cannot reasonably refuse. To help smooth things over and come to some sort of agreeable truce between the families ahead of the marriage, Conor has sent for Myles Keanan (Cyril Cusack), a local elder and the district matchmaker. It’s Keanan’s arrival that appears to trigger the ever-stranger series of events that will follow.

Cyril Cusack was a well-known character actor who made one of his earliest, though uncredited, appearances in Dawn, a.k.a Dawn Over Ireland (1936), which was the first sound feature film made in Ireland using entirely Irish cast and crew. The next fully Irish movie, made with Irish funding, cast, and crew, was The Outcasts, nearly half a century later, which was one of the reasons Cusack signed up for it.

Those not well-versed in folklore will wonder why he uses a small mirror to check over his shoulder as he rides across the austere landscape, though fans of the BBC miniseries Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (2015) will probably guess. In Celtic fairy lore, reflective surfaces, mirrors, and still waters are portals to other realms where fairies may cross into our world, and we may enter theirs. So, it is when he pauses on the shores of a mountain lake that Scarf Michael (Mick Lally) first appears. It could be a trick of the light as we only see his reflection, but, no, we hear his voice too, offering to play the fiddle at the forthcoming wedding. The dialogue between them implies that Keanan knows Scarf Michael of old and that his presence may be linked to some dark deed buried in the past—a memory tied to the land or the lake.

Scholars will enjoy the folklore referenced throughout The Outcasts, appreciating its ring of authenticity. However, it is never explained within the narrative, so most of the audience will be bemused, baffled, and bewitched by the uncanny sense of otherworldliness. This poetic, dreamy atmosphere is enhanced by the beautiful cinematography by Seamus Corcoran shooting with 16mm stock. The film was then transferred to 35mm, a process which really brings out the muted colours and makes the gorgeous grain all the more visible, embellishing the rain-soaked textures while making us aware of the surface between us and the insubstantial world inhabited by Maura. After all, the screen is a reflective surface, not unlike that of a mirror or lake. This is a barrier that we may only traverse through emotional and imaginative engagement. Like entering another realm. In this way, Robert Wynne-Simmons is drawing a comparison between the world of film and the world of dreams—both seem real to us while they last, but are separate from our everyday realities.

For example, when three ‘mummers’ turn up at the wedding clad in costumes and tall conical masks woven from straw, their sinister appearance is disconcertingly strange whether one knows their origin or not. However, this is a well-known pagan tradition, kept alive in some areas of Ireland to this day, where anonymous minstrels attend special events, such as gatherings for weddings, Halloween, and Christmas.

As the merriment spirals out of control, the drunken men and maidens wander off to the old mill, dragging Maura along. It’s then that one of the ‘strawboys’ intervenes and rescues Maura, removing his scary mask, revealing that he’s Scarf Michael. For Maura, instead of a bogeyman from the folktales, he appears as a dark romantic hero, cursed to walk between two worlds but able to wield supernatural powers through the music of his enchanted fiddle. He entertains her by visiting disturbing apparitions upon those who had tormented her. Such as transforming a man into the semblance of a wild goat while in flagrante with Troina (Gillian Hackett), who then begins spreading rumours of witchcraft. It’s not hard to guess who she suggests is the witch.

Soon Maura is being blamed for the misfortune that befalls the village, and with the potato crop developing blight, the farmers decide something needs to be done. Although the priest (Paul Bennett) has been kind to Maura and speaks up in her defence, the lurking pagan superstitions of the locals resurface. But this only empowers Scarf Michael. So, the wildman and the innocent make their getaway.

Mary Ryan and Mick Lally are both outstanding in their roles, expressing power and wisdom but also the responsibility and melancholy that come with such knowledge and revelation. They are both misfits looking for somewhere to belong. Maura wants to learn all that Scarf Michael knows of the other realm, understand his oneness with the land, but he’s reluctant to share that burden. There is one absolutely beautiful scene where they share a little of their individual backstories and Scarf Michael cups the moon in his hands, bringing down a portion of its light for Maura. What’s more,the very believable sense of magic is created with almost no VFX save for some basic in-camera effects and perhaps one process shot.

At some indistinct point in the narrative, we have passed from a realistic period drama into a dreamlike fantasy. Robert Wynn-Simmons manages to pull off this inconspicuous transition so that it seems completely natural. He has said in interviews that one of his main goals in storytelling is to blur the point where one thing becomes another. This is a recurring theme of many shamanic cosmologies. The indistinct boundaries between dawn and dusk, sea and shore, the surface of a lake, the horizon, are places of mystery and magic… liminal places signifying transformation.

The folklore of Ireland is a very important aspect of national identity, and the Aos Sí, or fairy folk, are not relegated to children’s stories there but are thought of as part of the living landscape. They are not the sort of fairies found in Disney stories but powerful beings capable of visiting terrible retribution upon those who may offend them. As recently as 1999 ,the layout of the M18 motorway through County Clare was altered to avoid damage to a seemingly unremarkable shrub. It was an old hawthorn that in local lore was the meeting place of two fairy tribes where they would debate or do battle. It was believed that damage to the tree would provoke the fairy folks and result in that stretch of road being an accident black spot. So, the local taxpayers were happy to cover the additional costs incurred by the change of plan.

That ancient sense of the land is perfectly portrayed in The Outcasts. The characters all look like they are part of their environments—their clothes muddy and grimy, their hands ingrained with the soil they have worked. Costume designer Consolata Boyle deliberately accentuated this with textures that blend with the stone, tree bark, and mosses. The dyes used in the 19th-century were sourced from plants and fungi, perhaps some minerals, and her choice of colour palette picks up on these colours that, quite literally, come from the land. Thus, the actors blend with their surroundings, creating unusually holistic compositions throughout.

The visuals are supported by an inventive soundtrack overseen by Stephen Cooney, a session musician who has worked with Irish folk giants The Chieftains and Clannad. Here he uses the expected bodhrán drum and pipes, but also brings in instruments from other shamanic cultures such as the didgeridoo. He also creates some effective soundscapes that build from a whisper to a roar. Of course, the Irish fiddle features at key moments. Robert Wynn-Simmons has said that his research into the fiddle and its long tradition was what persuaded him to become more involved as a music composer than as a director, which may be part of the reason why The Outcasts remains his first and only feature film

Before working as an editor and producer for Ireland’s RTÉ channels, he’d previously made a few shorts that tended to focus on recurring themes of the outsider and the mystical power of the landscape. Notably, The Judgment of Albion (1968) was a poetic documentary that drew inspiration from the prophetic poems of William Blake and contrasted ancient stone monuments with London’s financial district—the places of power, then and now—it’s generally interpreted as an anti-capitalist ode to our dwindling spiritual connection with the natural world. He also cites the poetry of William Blake as a significant influence on The Outcasts.

It was while working as a producer and editor for RTÉ that Wynne-Simmons pitched a few film ideas to the Arts Council of Ireland and the Irish Film Board which were offering grants to produce an Irish feature film. The script they approved was for The Outcasts though the budget was tight and ran out due to delays caused by heavy snow. Around the same time, Channel 4 was considering going into film production and decided to buy The Outcasts on the strength of the rushes that had been shot. It was that advance sale that enabled completion of the shoot.

Wynne-Simmons is probably best-known for scripting Piers Haggard’s The Blood on Satan’s Claw which has become revered in folk horror circles along with Witchfinder General (1968), The Wicker Man (1973), Pendas Fen (1974) and Children of the Stones (1976). Perhaps, The Outcasts came along at the wrong time, too late to be considered part of the genre’s genesis, but long before the Folk Horror revival which has more recently spawned the like of The Witch (2015), November (2017), and Midsommar (2019).

He went on to produce the anthology series of supernatural tales, When Reason Sleeps (1987) that aired on Channel 4 and RTÉ in Ireland. He wrote the first episode ‘Fear of the Dark’, directed by Tony Barry, and directed the remaining three episodes, co-writing the fourth, “The Scar”, with Tom Gallagher.

The Outcasts did very well on the festival circuit and won a handful of top awards. It was shown on Channel 4 in 1984 and given a modest, poorly marketed VHS release as well as a brief run at selected cinemas during 1985. Then it vanished into obscurity, vividly remembered and championed by those who had seen it—which is a testament to its success on its own terms as a discourse on human transience and the enduring nature of stories. Or, to put it another way, the brevity of folk and the longevity of tales. Now, sympathetically restored and available on BFI Blu-ray, it will hopefully be discovered by a fresh audience and finally given the respect it has always deserved.

“Let us go forth, the tellers of tales, and seize whatever prey the heart long for, and have no fear. Everything exists, everything is true, and the earth is only a little dust under our feet.”—W.B Yeats, The Celtic Twilight.

IRELAND | 1982 | 106 MINUTES | 1.66:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Blu-ray Special Features:

• New 2K restoration by the Irish Film Institute.
• Newly commissioned audio commentary by Dr Diane A Rodgers. Engaging accompaniment to what we are seeing on the screen, encouraging us to look closer. There is the usual making of information and appraisal of performances, along with plenty of astute observation and analysis. I would have appreciated more in-depth discussion of the folklore, but that is probably just me.
• Writing Folk Tales (2024, 9 mins.) A newly recorded interview with director Robert Wynne-Simmons, in which he discusses his understanding of folk tales and his approach to writing modern fiction that resonates with these timeless traditions. He recounts how The Outcasts was made, discussing the casting, funding, and filming. He admits much of the success was down to lucky casting and also explains that the film is not folk horror, as there is nothing truly horrific shown on screen. Although some of the events are tragic and unnerving, he maintains that while it may be dark, he does not feel that the horror label fits, asserting that it is not a fairy tale but a straightforward, original folk tale.
• The Outcasts in Pictures (2024, 15 mins.) A gallery of stills from the film, with audio commentary by director Robert Wynne-Simmons. A talk through the production, via a collection of anecdotes sparked by a slideshow of production stills showing cast and crew during the shoot.
• The Fugitive (1962, 31 mins.) Robert Wynne-Simmons’ first film with an outsider at its heart is this dark tale of violence, guilt, and retribution, shot on 8mm film amidst Mods and Rockers violence on the backstreets of 1960s Brighton. Another unconventional narrative with no dialogue that comes across as a student exercise in visual storytelling. The opening shots are heavy with similar imagery as seen in The Outcasts—silhouettes of tree branches heavy with crows, bleak grey skies over hills and fields, a single figure running, trying to escape from something. In this case, it seems to be related to drugs and gang violence. For me, the main appeal was the scenes of 1960s streets with their vintage vehicles.
• The Wanderings of Ulick Joyce (1968, 5 mins.) This distinctive animated short by Gillian Lacey was inspired by Irish folk tales and was made with the assistance of the British Film Institute Production Board. It’s inspired by Irish folk tales, through the filter of Flann O’Brien’s 1939 novel At Swim-Two-Birds. It was funded by the BFI. Lacey had been an assistant animator on Yellow Submarine (also 1968). Employing a wacky hand-painted animation style, this was her first independent short film.
• FIRST PRESSING ONLY. Booklet including director’s statement, new writing on the film by the BFI’s Vic Pratt, an archive essay by Dr Diane A Rodgers and recollections of The Fugitive by Robert Wynne-Simmons. At 26 pages, this is a handsome little volume, and the director’s statement is most welcome as it contains information impossible to source elsewhere. Robert Wynne-Simmons summarises his creative career, beginning with his earliest films,novels, and unproduced screenplays. He recounts marketing his script for The Devil’s Skin, filmed as The Blood on Satan’s Claw, and goes on to recall the production of The Outcasts. In his essay The Film as Folk Tale, Vic Pratt compares the two films with each other, identifying some of the recurring themes that clearly fascinate Robert Wynne-Simmons. In The Outcasts: A Forgotten Wyrd Classic of British Folk Horror, Dr Diane A Rodgers covers much of the same ground as her audio commentary, continuing to ponder the hinterland between the real and the imagined and placing the film in the context of its time and its recognised Folk Horror precursors.

Cast & Crew

writer & director: Robert Wynne-Simmons.
starring: Mary Ryan, Mick Lally, Cyril Cusack, Don Foley, Tom Jordan, Brenda Scallon, Bairbre Ní Chaoimh, Gillian Hacket, Máirtín Jaimsie & Paul Bennett.