Liam O'Neill

Lives change for members of an Irish family after a meteor crashes in their backyard. The kids believe that it was sent down to them by their dead parents, but the government hauls the rock away and sends it to the local university.

Set in rural Ireland. Believing that "a man is measured by his enemies", Harry Maloney sets out to ruin George O'Flaherty – the most powerful man in town, who not only owns the local pub and most of the businesses in the area, but is also the local matchmaker. When Harry's son Gus – upon whom Harry regularly heaps abuse (mostly mental and verbal) – falls for the lovely Eileen, George helps get the two together. During this time, Harry quietly mobilizes his dastardly plans.

When two teenagers commit suicide the police and the press assume the motive to be some kind of love pact. But Allan Blakeston, a local reporter, has too many unanswered questions. As he digs deeper into the case, he learns why the kids really died and his knowledge puts his own life at risk.

A funny morality play about the dangers of technology addiction

On a warm summer's day in the not too distant future, Ireland's first divorce case is unravelling on national television. The lives of several neurotic middle class couples are followed as they reflect on their relationships in the context of legalised divorce.

A writer struggles with inspiration until a strange woman arrives at his doorstep.

See You at the Pictures is a feature length documentary which looks at movie-going in Ireland throughout the decades. Exploiting a treasure chest of hitherto undocumented or privately documented stories and adventures that have been stored inside heads or scribbled in yellowing notebooks and diaries across the country, the film examines specific periods of Irish history as related, through the prism of cinema, by ordinary and less ordinary people who lived and are living through them. Their testimony guides us through the years, providing insight, historical knowledge, funny anecdotes, local colour, and other comic or perhaps even tragic stories. Out of this emerges a truly nationally-shared experience of cinema-going as important to our common heritage as any of the other components of our culture.