First, the flicks:
Angela's Ashes is based on the memoir of Frank McCourt which details his poverty stricken life in 1930s and 40s Dublin. Not poverty like "Applebee's is high livin'" poverty, but poverty like "mmmm, rat meat" poverty. Ran a bit long, but a great piece of cinema and a brilliant insight into what was then basically a Western third-world country. 
The Commitments is a musical dramedy in which American soul - as played by a thrown together band of losers and misfits - is as much a character as any of the people involved. It's not about money, fame, or sex; it's about soul.
Darby O'Gill and the Little People is a classic early Disney live action film featuring a young Sean Connery and some special effects that are good even by today's standards. An eccentric old villager entertains the locals with his tales of encounters with leprechauns until he is laid off from his job as a groundskeeper. Brian, King of the Leprechauns, "saves" him from a life of loneliness by abducting him into the realm of the Little People. As a game of magical cat-and-mouse takes place between Darby and Brian, Darby's daughter and his young replacement fall in love. Good movie, even by live Disney standards.
The Secret of Roan Inish is a lovely bringing to life of the Irish tales of the selkies, a race that can take the form of seals or people. A young girl goes on a quest to bring back her brother who was long ago taken away to sea by seals and learns a fascinating legend about her own family's heritage.
John Wayne in Ireland? Yup. But don't worry, he rides a horse, smokes, and beats the crap out of a bad guy. A man returns from America to his native land to buy back the family land. He also takes a wife. By "take a wife," I mean by the arm, kicking and screaming, and under threat of violence. What can I say? It was the 1950s, it was John Wayne, and it was Ireland. It's like when your grandparents call black people "colored." The old days were wrong in so many ways.
Remember that girl in high school that lorded her beauty over everyone? The teases, the flirts? The pregnant girls? The real or imagined "sluts?" Well, up until 1996, such girls in Ireland were sent to Magdalene Asylums, church run laundries that imprisoned girls and women of "loose" character or virtues. Unwed mothers, prostitutes, the feeble-minded, and even women seen as "too pretty" were sent away, sometimes by state order, to live their lives under the watch of cruel clergy and staff until they took vows, were signed out by family, died, or escaped. Heavy, heavy film. The acting was phenomenal and the cinematography was brilliant. The winner of the mar o'thon. 
My Left Foot, based on the play of the same name, which was based on the book of the same name, is the biographic tale of Christy Brown, an Irish child born with severe cerebral palsy and only able to control his left foot. Unable to speak, walk, or build ships in bottles, the young Christy used his left foot to write, paint, and model for "tough actin'" Tenactin commercials. He finally grew up to be an eloquent and celebrated poet, writer, painter, and drunkard, giving hope to those of us drunkards who posses all of our faculties.
The Jews call them latkes. The Americans call them hashbrowns. The Germans call them Kartoffelpuffer, 'cause the Germans have to complicate everything. The Irish call this dish boxty, yet another take on potato pancakes. We also enjoyed Dublin Coddle, a dish of sausage, bacon, carrots, potatoes, onions, and herbs, all slow cooked in hard cider. A winner to be sure, and something to become a regular feature in our house. Colcannon was another dish we tried, which is more or less mashed potatoes, but with onions and cooked cabbage blended in. I liked it, K didn't.
Reading left to right: O'Haras Irish red (perfect), O'Hara's Stout (good), Beamish (ok), Smithwick's (too sweet), Guinness' 250th Anniversary Stout (INCREDIBLE), and Wexford's Irish Style Cream Ale, made by the feckin' English, but tasty nonetheless.
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