Alan Parker, director

I was offered a chance to film Les Misérables in the late 80s, but I chose The Commitments instead. After making several films in America, I had a yearning to do something closer to home and to my working-class roots. Dublin’s Northside, where Roddy Doyle’s novel was set, closely resembled the Islington of the 1960s where I grew up. Everyone I knew wanted to be in a band to escape the world we found ourselves in.

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Roddy couldn’t get his original screenplay made, so Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais restructured it, fleshing out the humour. The script changed again when we were casting the film, as we heard the lines mangled a thousand times in auditions and improved them. When I arrived in Dublin, we immediately auditioned 65 bands and spent the next few months on a lengthy pub crawl as we trawled upstairs performance spaces to make sure we’d seen everybody – not an onerous task.

Robert Arkins auditioned for the roles of manager Jimmy Rabbitte and singer Deco Cuffe. But when Andrew Strong came in quite late, he nailed the Deco part. He had extraordinary confidence for a 16-year-old. So I cast Robert as Jimmy, which is the more difficult part from an acting perspective, as he’s the glue that holds the whole film together.

We had an unusually long five-week rehearsal period, with dramatic rehearsals in the mornings and musical ones in the afternoons. Because we were so well prepared, the shoot ran smoothly. When you’re filming music, it lifts everyone. The cast were tantrum-free, and every day was a joy. But because most of the actors were working musicians – or more often out-of-work musicians – they lived rather nomadic, dubious lifestyles. None of them had phones; some relied on a granny taking messages. We gave them all mobiles – a novelty in 1990 – so we could keep tabs on them.

The Dublin screening was the best we had anywhere in the world. I never met an Irish person who didn’t like it

The dramatic scenes were filmed conventionally in a disciplined manner, but the musical sequences were shot in a grittier, looser, documentary style. We used a new technique of shooting music, which allowed me to play backing tracks loudly but shoot live vocals. Consequently, we did not have to rely on vocal miming – the norm for music filming. We used multiple cameras to take advantage of the spontaneity of the moment; when I let the cast fly, they improvised like crazy, breaking the record for the most swearwords used in a film. It got an R-rating in the US – maybe why it only made $15m on first release. But the Dublin screening was the best we had anywhere in the world. I never met an Irish person who didn’t like it.

Robert Arkins, actor

I wasn’t a soul or Motown fan – they felt so old in the 80s. The band I sang in at the time were trying to do something modern: cross electronic music with hard guitars. My keyboard player’s brother’s girlfriend was an actor, and recommended us to her agent, who put us in touch with the casting people for The Commitments. The first time we went to the office, everyone in the band turned to me: “Who’s going first?” I’m like: “Why are you asking me?” But the casting people must have spotted that I was the leader. Maybe that’s why I got the part of Jimmy.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest ‘The shoot was three months long, working God knows how many hours’ … Robert Arkins as Jimmy Rabbitte. Photograph: Moviestore/Rex Shutterstock

Alan seemed to leave me alone in rehearsals, unlike some of the others, like Andrew Strong, who got extra attention. Maybe he was treating me with kid gloves, because he thought I couldn’t handle being pushed.

The shoot was three months solid, one day off a week, and working God knows how many hours. There was a bit of messing about because we were bored. Sometimes the assistant directors had a nightmare finding us – or got into trouble for not being able to.

The best thing that happened was when Joey the Lips comes down the lane on his motorbike. Johnny Murphy, who plays Joey, couldn’t drive that bike for anything and forgot to take his hand off the throttle; it went smash into the wall. And that stayed in. We were in stitches. No matter how many lessons he got, he still couldn’t get to grips with that Honda 50.

I had no idea the acclaim would go on for years. I could have done with some coaching, some help. Walking down the street, being yourself: it took that away from you overnight. I think some people think we were a real band, which is maybe why people sometimes ask: “Where are they now?” I take offence at that. Everyone in The Commitments gave their best.

It’s still the No 1 Irish film ever made – though when you say Irish, it was made by the British and funded by Americans. It definitely has an English sense of comedy, because of Clement and La Frenais. The jokes are soft – they’re not aggressive. But the Irish totally took it on board. When we did the 20th anniversary concert, we played on the same day Ireland beat England at rugby, so everyone was half-cut and euphoric. Something working class like that had never happened before in Irish film. It was all fucking leprechauns. The Commitments put Ireland and Dubliners on the world stage.

• The Commitments 25th anniversary edition is out on DVD and Blu-Ray.