When you speak with Brendan Canty, what strikes you most isn’t his success or the accolades for his award-winning film Christy, based on life in Cork’s Knocknaheeny, but his thoughtfulness and self-awareness. You can tell he’s someone who’s taken time to understand both himself and the city that helped shape him. Brendan directed and co-wrote the critically acclaimed film Christy with his childhood friend Alan O’Gorman, which tells the story of two brothers reconnecting and healing in Cork’s northside after growing up apart in the care system.
‘Christy’ may have put Brendan on the map internationally, but it also brought him closer to his home town. His relationship with his native city appears to have become more intimate, mirroring his personal journey that has seen him evolve into a successful filmmaker.
Brendan, originally from Ballincollig, admits there’s a real sense of relief now that ‘Christy’ is out in the world. He says he couldn’t be happier with how the film has been received, not just by the international press or by influential critics, but especially by audiences at home. “The response in Cork has meant the most to me. Foster care agencies and support groups have told us how authentic the story felt, how much it mattered to them to be seen on screen and feel heard”. That kind of recognition, he says, is humbling.
Christy won Best Film at the Berlin International Film Festival and has been nominated for many other awards , including the 2026 LUX awards and has been shortlisted for the European Academy Awards. “It’s been more than I ever dreamed of, such a positive experience,” he says simply.
Getting to this point wasn’t easy. When the project first went into development with the BBC, he admits it felt like an imposter-syndrome moment, as he explained. “There are no guarantees a film will actually get made, and I had put everything into it. It was all or nothing,” he says. He always believed in it, but fear lingered in the background, so the relief now feels even more profound.
The film’s success, he knows, will open doors. As a first-time filmmaker, he relied heavily on Screen Ireland and the BBC to support the production. “That kind of funding allows you to make creative choices without the same commercial pressure, but now we’ve delivered something critically acclaimed, it changes things. Access to bigger budgets and more established talent will make the next project easier. When you have that kind of backing, you can aim for someone like Paul Mescal for a lead role and that changes everything.”
The story of Christy began years ago with Brendan and Alan O’Gorman trying to write a film about the people they grew up with, the kind of lads they played football with around Cork. Brendan recalls “It started as a small idea, but it really took off after we met the kids from The Kabin, a creative community project in Knocknaheeny run by Garry McCarthy, where young people learn to rap and tell their stories through music. I remember being blown away by their talent. They were amazing and I knew straight away they’d make brilliant actors.”
Their first audition, held in the hut in Gurranabraher, sealed it. “I knew instantly and instinctively that it had to be them,” he recalls. From there, they ran workshops, shot music videos, and made a short film together. That short, also called Christy, became the seed for the feature.
In the short, Christy’s older brother was a small part, but actor Diarmuid Noyes brought such depth and commitment that they wanted to expand his role. The two brothers became the emotional core of the story, two people carrying the same trauma but processing it in different ways, Brendan explained. “Shane, the older brother, remembers their mother vividly and has spent his life trying to bury the pain. Christy, who was too young to remember, is searching for answers. Exploring those contrasting perspectives opened up a larger truth about family and masculinity. Brendan believes while this is a global issue it is very much rooted in Ireland too. ‘Men aren’t great at talking, so they bury things but at the same time feeling them deeply. We ran improvisation sessions with the actors, trying to piece together what the boys’ lives might have been like after their mother’s fatal overdose. And we learned so much from it.”
While the story isn’t drawn directly from Brendan’s or Alan’s lives, it’s informed by empathy according to Brendan. Alan had worked in Manchester with young people in the care system, and his mother had been a social worker. The two film makers grew up playing football with kids from different backgrounds and Brendan admits that he has always had empathy that allowed him to really get a sense of other people’s lives. He says he always wanted to tell a Cork story, something rooted in real people and real voices. “One of the young men at The Kabin, Sean Downey, spoke openly about his experience growing up in the care system and said he’d never seen a film that reflected what that actually felt like, or that told the truth. That conversation was a turning point and made me realise that we could tell that story”
So that’s how Christy became what it is, not a film about statistics or social issues, but a story about people. “We didn’t want to moralise or take a political stance,” he says. “We just wanted to listen to what we were hearing, absorb it, and make something authentic. The aim was always to tell the truth and let the audience make up their own minds.”
That approach clearly resonated. While critics praised the film, it’s the personal reactions that have meant the most. “People from within the foster care system reached out to say it was the first time they’d felt seen. Social workers, too, said they recognised themselves in Ciaran Bermingham’s portrayal of a caseworker juggling forty-four cases but still trying to care. Most people go into that job because they care deeply,” he says. “But how can you really do the job you want to do when you’re spread that thin?”
The Cork premiere was emotional for Brendan. His wife, parents, sister, and grandmother were there, and so were many of the young actors from Knocknaheeny. “It was overwhelming,” he admits. “There’s something about bringing it home to Cork that hits differently. If Cork people didn’t buy it, that would have felt like failure,” he says. “Thankfully, they did.”
He laughs recalling a man from Cobh who approached him after a Dutch screening to complain that a character said “Fota Wildlife Park” instead of just “Fota.” before adding that no one in Cork gives it the full title. “That’s such a Cork thing,” he laughs. Brendan loves that kind of local ownership, another reviewer on Letterboxd, complained that a character took the link road instead of a more logical route. “It’s funny, but I love that people are watching that closely. It means they care.”
Spending time in New Zealand with his wife and family during the writing process gave Brendan distance to see Cork anew. “Being away lets you see it more clearly, since coming home I love walking through the city and noticing details like the old buildings with the dates etched in stone and realising how much heritage and beauty you miss when you’re looking at your phone. You just have to look up.”
Before the film, he had no connection with Knocknaheeny beyond playing matches there. He was aware of certain stigmas. but spending time there has given a fresh perspective. “It’s not without problems, like anywhere,” he says, “but the sense of community there is incredible.” He recalls a local mother saying her son was more likely to land on the moon than land in UCC. “ That line broke my heart. The talent and intelligence are there, but the psychological divide between Knocknaheeny and the southside is huge. Getting to know that community has been a great privilege”
Brendan remembers someone from the travelling community stopping him during the filming, assuming the film would be another bleak portrayal of the area. “People expected that and I’m proud it isn’t.”
The sacrifices have been real. He laughs at the idea that directing a successful feature makes you rich. “It’s been a brilliant year, but costly,” he says. When you are invited to festivals you get your flights and hotels paid for, but the rest you have to fund yourself. I used to make a living from making commercials but I had to give that up to concentrate on the film.” You don’t make money from your first film,” he admits. “But it will open doors and lead to other opportunities. My wife Ayla has made even more sacrifices as she carries much of the load at home with our two children , Hazel aged four and one-year -old Juno. She’s sacrificed even more than I have.”
He agrees that things would have felt much different if the film had flopped. “I’m so grateful it didn’t.” He’s seen plenty of talented peers who haven’t had the same luck. “There’s a lot of hustling involved. I don’t know where I got the fearlessness from, because I was self-conscious as a teenager. But I think I was just willing to put myself out there more to share my work, take feedback, and keep going.” He laughs again, calling it a mix of hard work, talent, and a little bit of luck, before adding that you need all three to succeed.
Becoming a father has changed him profoundly. “Fatherhood has made me more vulnerable but also more open. Being a dad teaches you empathy. “It grounds you and makes you grow up. Alan and I had no children when we started Christy, but now we have two each. “You see the world differently. You stop focusing only on your own stuff and start seeing everyone else’s and that helps in making you a better filmmaker”
Hazel, his daughter,appears in the film, in the barbecue scene, eating popcorn, something that she loves telling people about, according to her proud dad. Brendan gives a lot of credit to his wife for helping him grow emotionally. “Ayla came from a family that was very open, very good at communicating feelings,” he says. “She’s spiritual and self-aware, and that rubbed off on me.” Before he met her, he admits, he didn’t have that emotional vocabulary. “I had to learn to grow as a person before I could be the dad or the filmmaker I wanted to be.”
Follow Brendan on instagram @brendanfeelgoodlost
