Lyra: "An Astonishing Film for an Astonishing Woman"
Eva Sheils
Alison Millar presents a masterclass in documentary filmmaking with Lyra, crafting a film with a love so palpable and vulnerable that the words of its final credits have reverberated since leaving Queen’s Film Theatre. The audience is left with a huge sense of gratitude that Lyra’s family, friends, and the team behind the film allowed such an in-depth look into their lives during an incredibly tough time. This is compounded by the compositions of shots that place the audience in the room with Lyra’s family members, forging an even deeper connection to the material. The audience is encroaching on moments of deep loss, imploring us to act with complete reverence. The music and score by David Holmes punctuates the images perfectly, making for some truly haunting moments and creating a stunningly heart-breaking atmosphere that reaches a peak in the last few minutes of the film.
The narrative structure of the film truly allows Lyra’s voice to come through. We experience the gift of hearing her story in her own words through her journals and voice recordings on her Dictaphone. It creates a wildly intimate view of Lyra’s life, an innate curiosity and strive for the truth that led her to become such an accomplished journalist. Her philosophy of why? is a question she poses the audience, and it sticks with you long after the credits roll.
Lyra’s spirit touched so many of the people around her. Interviews with people she encountered during her work also ensure that her work is not left behind from her passing, such as her investigative journalism piece ‘The Lost Boys’ which was scheduled to be a book that she would author. In this way, Lyra did become a voice of the forgotten, the left behind. She will forever be one of the best talents to come from this unique marred place.
Her legacy during her life is complicated by her death. Echoing her sister Nichola’s words, her death is an example of the human cost of violence. Lyra’s death was the 160th conflict-related death since the signing of the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. She should be the last. This film certainly feels like a beaconing call to end violence for our region, an earth-shattering reminder of what is at stake if we do not continuously commit to peace here. Lyra came from the generation of ‘Ceasefire Babies’ – she was meant to be safe. She did not have to die.
Although this film earnestly depicts tough subject matter about Northern Ireland, I do really believe, or at least hope, that anyone walking from this film feels a renewed sense of community and the drive to continue Lyra’s legacy of questioning the status quo. Challenging traditions and rebuking the notion that ‘that’s just the way things are here’ is the key to progress here. It was a bittersweet feeling I left with, sadness over the passing of this remarkably talented woman, but also a sense of hope and feeling capable of achieving change here.
Eva Sheils is a Master’s student in Film Studies at Queen’s University Belfast, as well as a Health & Lifestyle reporter and monthly columnist for The Scoop.