Made in super-8mm with sound, as if it were the naive travel diary of a tourist, who does not fail to plant a kiss on the Blarney stone, the film delivers its overdue punches with three late scenes: the Irish nostalgia for political credibility poignantly comes through the hesitant allusions to Larkin and Connelly in the speech of a young man to our heroine; then, in the film's best moments, the agony of Ireland is encapsulated by the contrast of one woman singing a sermon on the street about the Virgin Mary and another describing her prison humiliations. By picking up on the excremental aspect of the prison abuse right after the inflated purity of the sermon, Dick demonstrates her sensitivity to the parameters of Ireland's oppression.' (P. Adams Sitney, Village Voice April 1983, sourced from http://www.luxonline.org.uk/artists/vivienne_dick/visibility_moderate.html on July 18th 2016)