REVIEW: Jimmy's Hall (2014)

Jimmy’s Hall is in may ways a follow-up to The Wind That Shakes The Barley, expanding on that film’s theme about how Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921, which ended the War of Independence and brought about the partition of Ireland, was a betrayal of the socialist ideals of the IRA. This version of Irish history remains contentious amongst historians, but The Wind That Shakes The Barley was nonetheless a powerful film about the clash of pragmatism and idealism in war (amongst other things), just like the earlier Land And Freedom. Jimmy’s Hall then is set ten years later – in 1932 – and examines the independent Ireland’s continued betrayal of the left, though at a smaller level.

James Gralton (Barry Ward) returns to Leitrim, Ireland after ten years in America, having fled from the security forces for agitation. Now back, he wants to have a quiet life and help his mother Alice (Aileen Henry) around the house. However, it isn’t long before the local kids – lead by Marie (Aisling Franciosi) – bored by the dances approved by the Church, beg James to reopen his fabled dance hall. Ten years ago, James taught dancing, music and politics before he was forced to flee. Finally agreeing to reopen the hall, James finds himself under attack from his political enemies all over again, including Father Sheridan (Jim Norton) and a local landowner O’Keefe (Brían F. O’Byrne).

Ken Loach’s best films can engage with a political debate in a way that humanises that debate, bringing it down to real terms. Riff Raff very clearly and concisely shows the problems of builders being forced to work on unsafe building sites while also being very funny and moving. Raining Stones shows the lives of long-term unemployed people, their attempts to find pride in their lives, in a way that thoroughly counters the government’s preferred description of them as lazy spongers. The Navigators almost prophetically told us why rail privatisation would be a bad thing. Meanwhile, Loach’s historical films often attempt to represent alternative histories. Jimmy’s Hall then is a film that shows how a conservative priest-ridden Ireland (as Joyce called it) betrayed the people by oppression and the refusal to allow dissident voices in times of turmoil. That James Gralton was ultimately deported from his homeland never to return is shocking, but it is also a little known part of Irish history. The connection between a post-Depression Ireland and a post-Tiger, recession Ireland is easy to make, but Jimmy’s Hall is ultimately a tribute to those who speak out against conventional wisdom and who refuse to be silenced.

The film, then, is one of oppression and is such it is a fairly typical exercise, keeping close to the expected story beats. It is not entirely successful in avoiding its own clichés – we all know, for example, that the chirpiest member of the dance hall will be the one to suffer the most brutal consequences. The other problem with the film is in it’s first half, which jumps back and forward through time, clearly trying to deliver as much information as possible before the action can properly begin, but getting hopelessly bogged down in quick flashback scenes which add little beyond exposition. It gives the film a sluggish and slightly confused feel, which the rest of the film never quite escapes. Ultimately, the film only rarely seems to get right to the heart of the matter – there are a few debate scenes that recall the best scenes from Land And Freedom and The Wind That Shakes The Barley, though here they just don’t work quite so well.

Oddly, Loach avoids addressing Gralton’s socialism all that much. We know that he teaches these ideas because we have been told that he does, but there are very few scenes in which his ideas are portrayed, where they are brought to life. Surely the film would be doing more justice to his ideas if it represented them realistically and empathically for a modern-day audience. Loach and his regular writer Paul Laverty seem to be wary of being criticised as dogmatic, but surely they would only be doing justice to the ideas. Indeed, it is not hard to see why the misleading trailer (which suggests that what Jimmy’s Hall is primarily about, and what the priests oppose most, is simply the dancing – making it look like an Irish Dirty Dancing) was made the way it was, since there’s so little of the politics.

There is something stilted and badly thought out about Jimmy’s Hall, possibly something to do with the fact that most of the script is speculation. Even the performances, rare for Loach, suffer, with Ward having little to fully get his teeth into and others, like Aileen Henry, left looking lost. The romance between James and Oonagh (Simone Kirby), an invented character, is shockingly awkward and by-the-numbers for Ken Loach – the man who made My Name is Joe. The best scenes are few and far between and are almost always too short and fail to dig far enough beneath the surface. The film lacks a forward momentum until its final moments, a surprise when one remembers not only the pace and energy of the recent The Angels’ Share and Laverty-scripted Icíar Bollaín-directed Even The Rain but also the passion and the force of those films’ political argument. Jimmy’s Hall is moving, especially towards the end, and it does make you angry – just as every Ken Loach film should – but, sadly, it just doesn’t seem moving or angry enough.

See also:
The Spirit of '45

REVIEW: The Angels' Share (2012)

 

  The Angels’ Share is the latest of Ken Loach’s Scottish set films and his tenth collaboration with writer Paul Laverty. Loach is a filmmaker who has proven to be one of the most prolific and consistent advocates of political cinema. Though The Angels’ Share is, for the most part, a light work, in the vein of 2009’s enjoyable Looking For Eric, it does retain a political value.

  The film follows Robbie Emerson (Paul Brannigan) as he narrowly avoids a prison sentence for assault. Instead given 300 hours of community service, he ultimately falls under the wing of Harry (John Henshaw), who heads the community service team to which Robbie has been assigned. Robbie is desperate to start over with his girlfriend and his recently born child, though an old feud and a lack of opportunities threaten to keep Robbie stuck in a violent and dangerous rut.

  The Angels’ Share is best summed up as a comedy-parable about using your resilience and creativity to dig yourself out of the hole of youth unemployment and gang culture. It bares comparison to Loach’s similar, though much darker, classic Kes in its story of a young man’s attempts to escape his bleak present and even bleaker future via a newfound talent, Robbie’s being a surprisingly sensitive talent for expensive whisky. The film is often disturbing. Loach’s films never shy away from the ugly side of whatever world he is portraying and there are many uncomfortable and even harrowing scenes, particularly a moving scene in which Robbie is faced with a former victim. Ultimately, however, the film is a passionate and honest portrayal of the lives and experiences of those who are too often marginalized in our society. However, Loach’s adherence to realism and to the presentation of a political message does not preclude a strong sense of humour.

  Most of Loach’s films are often very funny and, though it steps very close to farce at some points, The Angels’ Share is primarily an ensemble comedy. Many of the characters exist primarily as comic fools, though they are never straitjacketed into one-note characterizations. The film brilliantly maintains a mix of comedy and drama and will often move from one to the other shockingly quick. The most interesting example occurs in the courtroom sequence in the first few minutes of the film. Comedy is created through the juxtaposition of the character of the crimes committed with the highly formalized language used in the courtroom. A series of such crimes are given, though they suddenly stop being funny, catching the audience as they are ready to laugh and confronting them with the less comic side of life in inner city Glasgow.

  In comparison to Loach’s more angry works, of which his preceding film, Route Irish, was certainly a number, The Angels’ Share is slightly atypical – especially in the very surprising though tonally fitting use of that well-known hit by The Proclaimers. The jury is still out has to whether political cinema is more successful (if success is possible by any standard) harrowing and pessimistic or comic and optimistic, but The Angels’ Share, though unrealistic and throwaway at the level of narrative, is ultimately an engrossing and valuable film.

  Ken Loach has made greater films than The Angels’ Share, but it does counter the misleading impression that Loach’s cinema is dogmatic and depressing. As well as this, the film sees Loach continue with his preoccupation with those whom are too often misrepresented, if not totally ignored, in our society. The Angels’ Share might hopefully bring a new audience to the work of one of the most challenging and exciting of living filmmakers.