Luke: In new short film “The Assassination of Michael D. Higgins”, any suggestion of “schmaltziness” is “chewed up and spat out”

Dave Minogue knows what he's doing with that title. The Assassination of Michael D. Higgins is a calculated head-turner, sure to cause whiplash for the unsuspecting person scrolling PDFs of festival brochures on their phone. 

Printed on a marquee it has the feeling of old exploitation films that promise thrills and spills to anyone brave enough to enter the cinema. “Nurses and stretchers are standing by.” “You’ll pay for the whole seat but you’ll only need the edge of it.”

The title made me think of a couple of odd blips in Channel 4's film funding and programming. 

First, Death of a President, which fictionalised the assassination of George W. Bush. There was also The Execution of Gary Glitter, which purported to be footage of the same. 

The comparisons are only skin-deep, though. The reality of Minogue’s latest is a lot more palatable than its name suggests.  

Hospital orderly Frankie, played by this short film’s co-writer, John Doran, is leaving his job at an old-age home. On his final day, Frankie has prepared a surprise for one of his patients, president Michael D. Higgins (Seamus O’Rourke). 

In the film They Might be Giants, George C. Scott plays Justin, a judge who, following a personal tragedy retreats into a fantasy world where he believes he’s Sherlock Holmes. 

The situation may be similar here, but Doran and Minogue leave the hows and whys of the president’s situation up to interpretation and inference. It’s a graspable if not wholly understandable situation. 

This is reflected in how the other staff treat Frankie and the president. Frankie’s antics and indulgence of his patient's delusions of presidential grandeur have caught up with him. 

The film begins as Frankie’s boss, Ms Tiernan (Natalie Britton), chews him and the scenery to pieces. Frankie has arrived for his last day on the job dressed in a soldier’s uniform. 

Britton spits the words out of her mouth: “You disgust me, you’re a disgrace to yourself.”  

Frankie has stood in as the president’s secretary and bodyguard. Today’s cosplay is the final straw for those around him. 

Another orderly teases Frankie over the mustache he’s grown to complete the look. Wheeling a cart away, he curses and complains in an unbroken murmuring monologue. “Loolahs leading loolahs.” 

Despite Frankie’s attempt at Patch Adams-esque whimsy, the reality of things gets in the way. Even to those living a fantasy. When Frankie surprises the president he’s met with a blow from a zimmer frame instead of belts of laughter.

Minogue could easily leverage this material for winking cutesiness. And in its earliest moments, The Assassination of Michael D. Higgins looks like a play at Wes Anderson tweeness. 

The framing of Frankie between the large wooden doors of Ms Tiernan’s office almost suggests and threatens a schmaltziness – which is chewed up and spat out in the rest of the scene by Britton’s larger-than-life performance as the Boss from Hell.

Minogue isn’t one for the warm and fuzzies. His last film was 2021's Poster Boys, a good-natured odd-couple road-trip caper with a bite to it. 

In that film the relationship between uncle and nephew could have very easily turned sickly sweet. But Minogue's writing was sharp and felt authentic. Children acted as children do, sometimes cruelly. The adults too.

And that's the case with The Assassination of Michael D. Higgins as well. Minogue and Doran draw more out of the premise with pathos than they would with straight laughs and heartstring tugging. 

The centrepiece of the film, and the main entry on the president’s daily schedule, is a speech for his peers in the home’s canteen. Frankie hushes an already hushed audience of patients. He plays the national anthem on a portable cassette player’s tinny speakers. 

Seamus O’Rourke does a good Higgins impersonation here, the speech is quite moving. He speaks of community, belonging and of the need for Ireland to continue to be a welcoming place for everyone. The sort of thing that has bot farms full of X accounts with the Ivory Coast flag as their avatar posting pre-baked vitriol.  

The president suspects Frankie isn’t as loyal as he once thought when he catches sight of the half-hearted going-away present from Frankie’s co-workers. A shop-bought apple pie with “Goodbye” hastily scrawled across it in chocolate spells doom to the president.

Minogue closes out the story with intensity. A blaring dance beat and a melee between Frankie, the president, and the entire hospital staff. 

The slow-motion struggle sits uncomfortably between delightful and devastating. Minogue is assured enough to sit comfortably in this between-space. 

The final shot that wryly shows Frankie’s anguished face behind a portal style window conjures up a particularly grim Looney Tunes ending. 

The Assassination of Michael D. Higgins is set to premiere at the Galway Film Fleadh today, Friday 11 July.