I was fortunate enough to see Gabriel Byrne this past weekend during the Boston Irish Film Festival, at the screening of his documentary “Stories from Home”.  I’ve had several opportunities over the past 2 years to meet Mr. Byrne, and I am always amazed that each meeting has ushered in a new series of “firsts”, those truly electric moments that have formed the basic scaffolding of my recollection, the moments that stand out, that can still evoke emotions, the ones that don’t fade so quickly into the washed out tints of sepia and umber.  And each meeting has served as catalyst, moving me forward in my own personal journey, changing me from the neophyte fan waiting nervously by the stage door to someone who  craves a more dignified and substantial interaction with this warm and talented human being.  The Boston Film Festival gave me the chance to finally achieve that dream, it was truly one of the most enriching and memorable experiences I have ever had.

That is not to say I would undo even one of those stomach-churning moments from my star struck encounters of years gone by. I can still remember sprinting down the empty New York sidewalk at midnight, rounding the corner and seeing him standing before me for the very first time, lit up by the moon and the Lincoln Center Street Lights.  I can still feel the static charge in the air as he emerged from the Camelot stage door that Saturday afternoon two years ago, grin wide, eyes bright, rubbing his hands together and demanding to meet his “HBO In Treatment Ladies”.  I can still hear the freight train hammering in my ears as I worked up my nerve to approach him sitting all alone in the corner of the Irish Gala Library, reading glasses on, legs crossed, effortlessly channeling  Paul Weston, looking resplendent and beautiful in his solitary stillness.

No, I would not trade a single one of those memories, but after having several of these types of short-lived, celebrity moments, I had begun to approach this Boston film festival with a sort of “been there, done that” mentality.  I was feeling more excited about seeing my friends meet him for the first time, than I was about my own chance to meet him for a fourth one.  But I greatly underestimated the significance of this event and the powerful impact it would have upon me,  I am not sure that anyone that bought a  ticket had an idea of the level of intimacy, the degree of contemplative soul baring  we would get for our meager ten dollars.

For over an hour, he stood up in front of a crowd of 200, microphone in his right hand and that expressive, artistic, all- too-familiar gesturing with his left.  He gave long and detailed answers to deeply personal questions and he did it with such heart breaking honesty, that it would sometimes take my breath away.  It was a gift to us, the lucky people who were in that audience, a private and revealing conversation, a chance to get to know the man at a level that went beyond any interview I have read or seen.  It was an absolute treasure and while it would be impossible and inappropriate to chronicle the entire evening or give a play by play account of all that was asked and answered, I will attempt to give a flavor of the evening without exposing all its details.

 I attended the event with several of my friends.  We arrived at the theater fairly early and decided to sit on the front row where we assumed Mr. Byrne would eventually be standing.  While I kept my head craned toward the entrance until the movie started, Gabriel Byrne chose to wait until the movie was well underway before stealthily entering the dark theater, so I never saw him take his seat in the corner of the very back row.  I sat there watching this movie I had seen before, noticing again how deeply sad he appears in this film and I wondered how those audience members that were seeing it for the first time were reacting to detailed admissions of his substance abuse and depression.  I actually heard one woman exclaim audibly when he described one of the more graphic and pivotal events that occurred during those darker days of his life.  But I also noticed how often the audience laughed out loud at some of the film’s humorous moments:  Gabriel’s playful imitations of another celebrity, his warm and funny comments about his mom’s ability to determine details about the people she watched on television, “That man’s on cortisone”, and “That man’s in a wheel chair” and they laughed at some of the self deprecating comments he made while explaining the shape of his flooded town home, and his “post apocalyptic” decorating style.

When the movie was over, the lights were kept down as the MC came to the front of the theater to give her brief introduction.  I craned my head around to see Mr. Byrne and finally spotted him standing under the theater exit, his face lit up by the residual glow of the sign, nervously awaiting the pending introduction. I whispered to one of my friends that I had spotted him and I directed her attention to his place at the back of the theater.  Her face finally registered the object of her desire and she began whispering a quiet little string of “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god”, as she looked upon him in the flesh for the very first time.  She sat staring and she kept up her quiet chant until the MC picked up the microphone and began to speak.

The MC began by saying that this meeting was very special because Mr. Byrne had decided this was the last time the movie would be shown at film festivals, the last Question and Answer session he intended to have, the last opportunity anyone would have to participate in an event like this.  Then she introduced Gabriel Byrne to the audience and he walked down the aisle, past my friends and I seated on the front row, and took his place behind the podium.  The MC started by thanking Gabriel for his beautiful film and she asked her opening question, “Mr. Byrne, What made you decide to create this movie, what made you decide to share this with the world?”

Let me begin by saying that Gabriel Byrne does not address questions in a short or succinct manner.  He starts by circling around his answer, pausing to think here and there, digressing into various related subjects, until he finally brings his thoughts in and sticks it for his landing,  often times punctuating his final thought with a perfunctory nod of his head.  While he said many things, the summary of his answer was that he made the film to tell the truth, he did it to help anyone in the audience that might also be struggling with issues of depression or substance abuse, he did it to demonstrate that everyone has problems even celebrities, and he did it to show that celebrities are just flawed humans. Even though his answer was long and winding, it was always interesting, always poignant, sometimes sad, and sometimes funny, and I knew from the first few moments that I would be hopelessly enraptured for the entire duration of the evening, hanging on to each and every lilting syllable he chose to put to voice.    I instantly found myself hoping that the questions would never stop, that I would be there all evening just listening to him ramble on about life and love and happiness and sadness.  This was the dream conversation I had always wished I could have.  I was absorbed. I was transfixed. I was spellbound and I was completely incapable of getting anything close to enough of it.

As the evening progressed, there were many clever and probing questions asked and he did his best to address almost all of them.  Like the Irishman that he is,  he’d weave a little tale with each and every answer, employing equal parts of seriousness and humor, pausing sometimes to laugh at a private joke, or to blink back the tears of a sudden and painful memory, turning every time “at bat” into an opportunity to tell a story.  He answered questions on several topics: his reasons for making the film, his opinions on telling truth in life and the value of exposing it in his acting, his ongoing struggle to understand who he really is, and his conflicting feelings about being a celebrity while still striking that balance and guarding his privacy.

At one point a woman asked him if he could have dinner with 3 people, anyone, dead or alive, who those three people would be.  He hesitated for a moment and then said he would like to have dinner with his dad.  He would like to discuss life with the man that had passed so many years ago, like to talk to him now that he was almost 60 himself, now that he was a father himself, like to say so many things that he never had the chance to say before. It was one of the moments in the evening that touched me the most because it seemed to me that his voice cracked just a bit, and his eyes seemed to sparkle with the barest hint of tears, but it was a brief moment, very brief and he blinked it back and continued with his answer.  He wrapped it up by advising all of us to spend more time with the ones we love, to record the things they have to say, to talk, to listen, to remember, to do all those things before the possibility of such precious interactions passes us by for good.

The evening wasn’t all sadness and heartbreak.  As a matter of fact, there was a great deal of laughter and humor and most of it was supplied by Gabriel himself.  He often poked fun at himself and the way he appeared in the movie, the constant walking around New York, pensive and brooding, the staring off into the distance. He opened up the comedic portion of one of his answers by saying that he looked like someone that would elicit the sentiment “Won’t someone just please give that guy a sandwich?” He jokingly commented   “ I look like I have no friends, like I just shuffle around all bent over like an old man, hanging around the park playing chess with strangers, like I have nothing else to do but walk around New York all day “.  He had the audience in hysterics as he attempted to make light of the situation and made the point that he really did wish the producer had put just a bit more humor in the movie.  And yet, at no time, did he try to turn away from or contradict the brutal truth of the film and each and every person that asked a question, thanked him for sharing his story with them.

His mannerisms were almost as hypnotizing as his words.  From our front row seats, we were able to take in even the most subtle of his gestures.  He was nervous initially, but he grew more comfortable with the cadence of the questioning. You could see him relax and the resulting body language was so quintessentially Gabriel Byrne that he almost became a parody of himself.  He would touch his lips, run his hands through his hair or squint with one eye and peer at the ceiling while trying to gather his thoughts and answer the question posed.  And through it all his beautiful hand would wave and gesture, fingers splayed, punctuating his thoughts like an orchestra conductor trying desperately to bring his symphony to a final crescendo. 

Finally, there was a point in the evening where Gabriel said (and he did this with a sort of mischievous gleam in his eye), that listening to us, laughing and responding so positively to his movie and to his Q and A, made him think that perhaps there was some opportunity  to do something like this on a wider scale.   He let that hang in the air for a minute and the audience responded with encouragement and applause.  I felt that during the evening he had perhaps come full circle, that his initial shyness or worry about being so open and exposed had been replaced with some level of pleasant surprise, some level of confidence.  I don’t know what will come of his little proposition, but when he made the statement, he definitely seemed to be trying to gauge the audience’s response to the suggestion and we made it perfectly clear that we thought it was a brilliant idea indeed.

We didn’t get the opportunity to approach Mr. Byrne after the event and thank him or introduce ourselves to him but we were close enough to make lots of eye contact and I think the gift of honesty and directness he shared with us was well worth the sacrifice of yet another autograph or arm in arm photo.  I have always said that I would truly love to spend an entire evening with this man just listening to him talk for hours on end.  That dream came true last weekend.  So I say thank you to the Boston Irish Film Festival, thank you to the friends that helped make this possible and thank you, thank you, thank you to Mr. Byrne for sharing so much of himself with me.