We have just spent an escapist, week long family holiday at Corcreggan Mill in Dunfanaghy, courtesy of the ubiquitous host and raconteur, Brendan Rohan. There are few better antidotes for “civilisation”, Corcreggan is a magical destination, one which Brendan describes in his local walking guide as follows, “The hollow in which Corcreggan Mill is situated is said to be a pre-Celtic ritual site dedicated to the goddess Danu, and it has been described by the renowned Slovenian expert, Marko Pogačnik as “the energy centre of the whole north-west of Ireland”. In evidence of all this it should be considered that there are 175 recorded archaeological sites within a five mile radius.”
Just about surviving the reluctant trek home on Friday evening, what better way to delay the inevitable return to “normality” on Saturday afternoon, than with 80 minutes in the company of M.A. Littler‘s sublime and visionary documentary, ‘Lost Coast‘.
“Equal parts film essay and travelogue”, ‘Lost Coast’ is a breathtakingly eloquent manifesto, a metaphorical soliloquy for transience…
The introduction, disarmingly distills the essence of my very being;
“As long as I can remember I’ve been looking for something. Something that exists outside the limits of language. Something that cannot be measured or captured. Something that cannot be purchased or sold, accomplished or conquered. Perhaps a certain kind of quality – an ancient truth, a primordial fact. Something more likely to be found in a rock rather than a cathedral or in a blade of grass rather than a holy book. I suspect it requires getting lost because you cannot find it. It can only find you.”
The synopsis informs us that ‘Lost Coast’ was, “Shot against the backdrop of California’s most remote coastal region Lost Coast is a personal quest for transcendental values in troubled times and a quiet cinematic celebration of the beauty and immensity of the natural world. The film aims to remind us that today’s mindless commoditization, cold efficiancy and endless acceleration lead to a streamlined citizenry and to a spiritual vacuum.”
I was transported back to a version of my former self, who earnestly sought the elusive solitude of the surfer’s path. A seeker of the road less travelled, where a signposted, “Not A Through Road”, was akin to manna from heaven, indicatively promising desolation, punctuated by lighthouses and the windswept cries of ancestral, reincarnated seagull voices.
The superlative soundtrack for this spiritual reawakening, has been scored by consummate collaborators Squadra Omega. It is available via bandcamp and the Boring Machines record label.
Peace and tranquility abound amidst the ceaseless coastal unrest, a visual feast accompanying the aural seduction of the siren’s song…
‘Lost Coast’ was released in 2014 and is available from Slowboat Films.
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