Cowboys & Angels

This breezy comedy-drama marks an assured feature film debut for David Gleeson, who traces his interest in film back to his childhood in the Co. Limerick village of Cappamore, where his father ran the local cinema. Set in present-day Limerick City, his film stars Michael Legge, who played the teenaged Frank McCourt in Angela's Ashes, but it offers a very different view of the city to the rain-sodden misery of McCourt's early life - and to its Stab City image as the alternative murder capital of Ireland.

The emphasis of this warm, engaging movie is on the friendship that develops between two young men who agree to share an apartment for economic reasons. Shane (Legge) is a shy with girls and already bored with his job as a civil servant, and Vincent (Allan Leech) is a flamboyantly dressed, openly gay fashion design student. Shane's journey of self-discovery is charted with wit and insight in Gleeson's sweet-natured movie, which neatly resolves the potentially awkward moral dilemmas it raises. There is an appealingly natural chemistry between the charming lead actors, and a touching portrayal of a disillusioned older civil servant by Frank Kelly.

I've just watched this film and I' surprised to find it was released in 2003. While watching it (before knowing the release date) I felt I was watching something out of the 1980s. Even though it may be contemporary, this film already has something "aged" about it. Its not exactly hackneyed, but there is something about the young people and the way they talk and act (and what they wear) that feels dated already. What especially struck me were the hairstyles and the clothing, some of the expressions and some of the mock innocence. These feel just too good, to tame, or too "innocent" to be credible in a movie in the 21st Century. The usual moral story, one supposes, and this time around just a bit too heavy-handed for my own personal taste. The stated gay interest or gay angle is very oblique.

Although it sounds like the premise for a formulaic sitcom, Cowboys and Angels turns out to be something entirely different. This big-hearted crowd pleaser, written and directed by David Gleeson, centers on Shane (Michael Legge), a lonely 20-year-old misfit who moves to the big city and takes on a gay roommate, fashion-design student Victor (Allen Leech).

After some queer-eye advice from the popular, outgoing Victor (new haircut, new wardrobe, new attitude), Shane begins to emerge from his shell. But an incidental friendship with the drug dealer who lives downstairs threatens to wreck his life just as it is beginning to come together.

Refreshingly, Cowboys and Angels uses its characters as people, not types, on its way to detailing Shane's gradual coming-of-age. Even with its brief running time, the movie feels slight and padded: The story technically ends 10 minutes before the movie does. But the lack of the expected gay-straight clichés puts you in a forgiving mood, and Gleeson's upbeat, humanist approach takes care of the rest.

It's a low-budget film with little in the way of a storyline and includes some diversions that have little bearing on the overall product. All of this would lead you to dismiss it as a lightweight offering. However, one of the main functions of a movie is to capture a sense of time and place and, in this context, Cowboys & Angels succeeds brilliantly. Even though it was made just two years ago, it has already found a unique position in time that viewers can relate to. It is set in my hometown of Limerick at the turn of the millennium as Ireland was moving from being the poorest country in western Europe to one of the wealthiest. Much of this happened to the bemusement of a population which had grown up on unemployment and emigration and now suddenly found itself surrounded by opportunities it had only dreamed of up to then. And along the way, a certain innocence was lost as a bulging generation of baby-boomers (Ireland's birthrate peaked thirty years later than its neighbours)worked its way through the buzz and the heartaches of transformation. In some ways, it resembles growing-up classics like American Graffiti and Rebel Without a Cause but set in a very different time and place. The main character, superbly played by Michael Legge, captures that wide-eyed innocence that the country was going through at the time while the photography picks up the youthful vitality of the city. While, on the surface, it may be an unremarkable tale about an unremarkable place, the ambiance is absolutely spot-on. Cowboys & Angels is perhaps the most representative contemporary feature film to come out of Ireland during the past decade.

Flat-mate wanted: apply within. So begins the sweetest straight-gay friendship in recent memory. Shane is a lost and lonely 20 year-old civil servant from the suburbs; he's adorably hetero and has no sense of style. His new roommate in the big city is Vincent, a hot young fashion student, queer, innately stylish, full of life, surrounded by friends, and able to pick up a hot daddy in ten seconds. For Shane, Vincent unlocks buried artistic dreams and a burning need to embrace the adventure of youth. For Vincent, Shane is...well...he's a makeover project, inside and out. And soon enough, he's in serious trouble. Filled with just enough confidence to make just the wrong move, Shane falls in with two drug-dealing thugs downstairs, and things get dangerous fast. As he spins out of control, Vincent flinches from the monster he's created. But the flat has thin walls, and even at their worst, Shane and Vincent never stop listening for each other. Refreshingly, writer/director David Gleeson's vision of this friendship transcends all that we've come to expect from a gay-straight relationship onscreen. The warmth and youthful optimism that emerge from this duo is positively infectious, and Michael Legge and Allen Leech effortlessly bring to life one of the rarest kinds of love. Gleeson's production is polished and lyrical; like Shane's clothing designs, Cowboys and Angels is colorful, bold and exhilaratingly alive.