This documentary opens with a citation of article 41.12 of the Irish Constitution in which it states that no mothers will be “obliged by economic necessity to engage in labour to the neglect of their duties in the home.” The marriage bar would remain until 1973 three years after second-wave feminism hit Ireland. Preceding both, in 1968, was the launch of the annual contest Housewife of the Year.
Described as a “friendly competition”, women across Ireland would be judged on how effectively they budgeted and prepared meals. As well as their sense of humour, appearance, personality, sincerity, and civic mindedness – think Miss World sans swimwear segment. It would be televised from 1982 with beloved broadcaster Gay Byrne (1934-2019) as host with the winner getting £300 in cash along with £300 in white goods, usually a “beautiful cooker.”
Director Ciarán Cassidy uses the backdrop of this derisive, surreal and sexist competition to interrogate the role of women in Irish society over the years. There is mention of the Magdalene Laundries, the Catholic doctrine and rigidity surrounding contraception, poverty, the Ann Lovett tragedy of 1984, the Divorce Referendum of 1986 (which was eventually overturned in 1995). Yet, the real meat on the bones is the present day interviews with some of the contestants (and winners).
These extraordinary women – Margaret, Ena, Ann, Sally, Patricia, Miriam, Ellen, Bernie and Philomena – and their stories are fascinating and kind of shattering in equal measure. Their lack of choice and how they adhered to a life of wife and mother, their confinements lasting far beyond the forty weeks of pregnancy. Interned not only in the marriage itself but many quite literally pregnant for decades. Ann was married at 20 years old and by 31 had thirteen children (including four sets of twins). Patricia had to juggle her housework, child-rearing and fulfil her duties as a postal worker when her husband fell ill and unable to work. Miriam sacrificed her career as a Nurse in London just as soon as she uttered her vows, while Bernie was petrified that she’d be found out, her eldest child’s illegitimacy exposed, that her subsequent marriage and further five children would render her disqualified.
On the surface, Cassidy’s film questions the conformity perhaps just not quite as much as the women themselves. Many lament that the decisions made for them, this lack of choice was ridiculous but yet, somewhat paradoxically, credit the competition with giving them the confidence and self-esteem to speak up and question if there was more to life than what was expected of them. Or, in the case of Ellen, the impetus to survive when her husband walked out on her.
Housewife of the Year does not reinvent the wheel in terms of documentary style, combining a lot of talking head interviews with archival footage, however, it is beautifully edited by Cara Holmes and having the former contestants introduced via a spotlight on stage is a lovely touch. It leans heavily into nostalgia, is always sympathetic but never delves too deeply or rages quite hard enough, in the way that many an audience member will upon viewing. While it is pretty wonderful that these women are here to tell their tales, it is always at the forefront of your mind that many, many more are not. Women and girls abandoned by blatant misogyny and a deplorable system, which would have sooner seen them dead than accept a teenage pregnancy or fill a prescription for a diaphragm (without a court case). Not so far removed from where the USA is headed today.
During its run, the contest gave face to a generation of women who in spite of it all kept going and while the State endeavoured to make them second-class citizens, it was their resilience which ensured that, eventually, they would endeavour to make the State work for them. That they could achieve something, there was possibility in the future and change would come. Eventually.
Housewife of the Year plays this year’s Irish Film Festival, London which runs from 13-17 November.
While a lot of The Perfect Candidate belongs to the political drama – gender politics are certainly at the heart of most films created within a place of female oppression like Saudi Arabia – this film feels more like an ode to the importance of cultural arts, perhaps even a tribute to the filmmaker’s own father, Abdul Rahman Mansour, who is a poet. Whether a conscious decision or due to her co-writer Brad Niemann’s input, the patriarch of this particular family is far gentler and more empathetic than we’re used to seeing onscreen – Maryam is never discouraged at any point by her Abi. As a result the male characters feel a lot more tangible within this narrative, with a variety of masculinities explored. It pulls from Maryam’s arc somewhat but as a result feels a little more balanced, ultimately the film begins and ends with the future. A woman. No longer hidden behind her niqab (if she so chooses).
The Framing Device 