Dermot Lavery

Dermot Lavery’s name pops up a lot if you’re into gritty, honest storytelling on screen. He's the kind of filmmaker who isn’t afraid to poke around in the darker corners of Irish history and human experience, and man, do his movies stick with you. “Road” (2014) is the sort of documentary that makes you want to hop on a motorcycle and just keep going—except you’d probably wipe out, because the story behind it is wild. Centered around the Dunlop family, legends of motorcycle racing, it’s basically a love letter to speed and danger, but also a gut-punch about loss and obsession. You feel every twist of the throttle. Then there’s “Lost Lives” (2019), which, honestly, is a tough watch. It’s not your average documentary—it’s more like a cinematic poem, built from the stories of thousands who died during The Troubles in Northern Ireland. The narration is haunting, almost too real at times, and you walk away with this heavy ache in your chest because the film refuses to let you look away from the pain. Lavery doesn’t sugarcoat, not even a little. And “Doineann” (2021) switches gears again. This one’s a moody, windswept thriller set on a remote island. Think missing persons case, secrets bubbling up, the kind of atmosphere where the weather feels like another character. Lavery’s direction keeps you guessing, keeps you tense. You can’t really pin him down—he’s got a knack for digging up raw emotion, whether it’s on the open road, in the middle of conflict, or somewhere out on a stormy coast.