The Irish Film Institute is currently showcasing a piece titled “The Callahans and the Murphys”, which is accessible online free of charge. All that remains of this black-and-white silent film from 1927 is a restored five-minute clip. For many years, it was hypothesized that “The Callahans and the Murphys” had been permanently lost following an unsuccessful attempt by MGM Studios to mollify the Catholic Church and disgruntled Irish groups who took offence to its perceived racial affronts.
The conserved scene encapsulates some of the frustrating elements. In one notable sequence set at a St Patrick’s Day gathering, the title characters, who are quarrelsome families residing in a tenement block named “Goat Alley” in New York, end up as neighbours in a park. Strong bootleg beer that is produced from a keg leads to a short-lived compromise.
Mrs Murphy humorously remarks, “This booze makes me see in doubles and feel single”, as she and Mrs Callahan merrily indulge in the drink and relate over their dissatisfaction with men. Following which, men initiate a brawl, inviting onlookers to join, causing a riot.
One of the original title cards mockingly described Goat Alley as a spot where a polite gentleman always removes his hat before hitting a woman. This, along with other insults, provoked Irish Americans, who accused a Jewish conspiracy and boycotted cinemas. However, it seems to have escaped the notice of both this and other national newspapers.
The Kerry Reporter, on the other hand, expressed its disapproval. Their correspondent from New York stated that “surveillance committees” had formed to rally against a movie that demeaned Irish men as illiterate clowns and Irish women as drunkards. The correspondent complained, “Their makers, who follow Judaism, have shown no concern in their irrational pursuit of wealth about causing pain or putting a nation known for its tolerance towards Jews to shame.”
MGM had initially asserted that their film had been modified with respect to Irish tastes and subsequently consented to omitting the picnic scene as well. Ultimately, though, the entire film was pulled and had not been screened publicly since, until the unveiling of the rejuvenated vignette.
The film’s controversy is paradoxical given its basis on a compilation of stories penned by Kathleen Thompson Norris (1880-1966), a seminal and successful author of her time. Norris was not just a fervent Irish-American but also known for her moralising slant in her writing, on top of being a staunch prohibitionist in real life.
Norris was a native of San Francisco and spent part of her life in the highly Irish Mission district, before her family decided to shift up north to Mill Valley to evade the unruly city life. San Francisco was notorious as a “town that drank”, her father mourned. The sobriety societies that her parents were part of were negatively perceived in the city, as it was believed they disrupted trade.
In stark contrast, Mill Valley was a sanctuary nestled in the mountains, known for its serenity away from the city’s notorious foggy weather, surrounded by redwood trees and inhabited by teetotalers. It had maintained its temperate discipline, being “bone dry” for several years.
Upon the death of her parents, Norris relocated back to the city and as the oldest sibling, took up the responsibility of her large family. For some time, she worked as an accountant but after completing a creative writing course at Berkeley University, her career took off.
She proceeded to pen over 90 books and for many years also wrote columns for syndicated newspapers. As her biographer, Deanna Paoli Gumani states, her inclination to write concerning Irish Catholic existence seemed to ruffle publishers who “preferred narratives that appealed to a white, Protestant, Anglo-Saxon audience”.
Despite this, Norris achieved roaring success, to such an extent that it made her feel remorseful. Her work appeared smoothly, she mentioned, so it seemed unjust that she was so handsomely paid for it, “whilst the superior gift of certain other writers meets with such an unreliable marketplace.”
Several of her books were adapted into screenplays, for instance, The Callahans and the Murphys. Although she customarily had supervision over it, the fragment restored by IFI suggests that there were certain deviations from her original.
Available for reading online courtesy of San Francisco’s Internet Archive, the collection of short stories focused on two common Irish families residing in the US has been warmly reviewed by a Swedish reader, who thoroughly enjoyed it during their younger years. This individual described it as a charming anthology filled with easily predictable narratives, infused with conventional, old-fashioned religious values and vivid imagery.
Yet, as pointed out by Gumina, the collection brings out a humorous side not usually seen in the author’s repertoire. Norris was known for her adeptness in capturing the essence of second generation Irish-Americans, encapsulating everything from their principles and ideals, to their unique manipulation, either through exaggerated or subtle understatement, of the English language.
Although Norris did create several books that steered away from the focus on the Irish culture, Gumina hints that the tales revolving around the Irish-American community seemed to bring out an intrinsic warmth and humour in Kathleen’s writing. This was particularly prominent when she chronicled the experiences of Irish-American women, proving that her storytelling truly shone in these situations.