The Most Underrated Director On The Planet

Kenneth Loach will never be trendy, a dedicated follower of the latest political fashions or cynicisms. Mr. Loach fervently desires a redistribution of economic power, but the viewer will find no hatred of or simplistic attacks on the rich. Throughout his career this British director has been as solid as Gibraltar. With an unembellished camera and the most naturalistic acting this side of real life, Mr. Loach pays tribute to the bus drivers, rail workers, construction workers, teachers, and janitors—the invisible, the unacknowledged, the working people. Despite being the bedrock of any country—in America they’re the people fighting, getting maimed and dying in Iraq—they, lacking an army of public relations personnel, great clothes and a fawning press, don’t stand a chance. They are paid a pittance in comparison to the executives, the celebrities, and the politicians who patronize and exploit them when they are not ignoring them. But in movie after movie, Loach honors them, saluting their humor, their resilience, their love of life. He is the Bruce Springsteen of film—without Bruce’s popularity or fame. Loach also empathizes with the poor and the desperate—the recovering drug addicts and alcoholics (My Name is Joe), the unemployed (Raining Stones), the single mothers (Ladybird, Ladybird), the homeless (Cathy Come Home), and the lawless (Sweet Sixteen). His only peer is The Dardenne Brothers in Belgium.

Loach’s best films reward the viewer with indelibly etched characters. BFP’s favorites are Maggie, in Ladybird, Ladybird, abused as a child, volatile and raging. Joe, a recovering alcoholic, strong, and unaffected. Liam, the wily, tough, aspiring drug dealer, about to turn sixteen. Loach creates these great characters, not only by getting powerful performances from respectively, Crissy Rock, Peter Mullan and Martin Compston (No acting experience prior to this film.), but also by getting vivid, heartfelt scripts, which get right to the core of the person. Six of Loach’s films have screenplays, including the last two mentioned movies, by the brilliant Paul Laverty, who is even more unknown than the director he works so well with. In a just world, these talents would be accorded a knighthood. (Not that they would accept it.)





Loach’s latest,The Wind That Shakes the Barley
ranks with his best.

It’s 1920 and Ireland (or at least Southern Ireland) struggles for nationhood against the British occupation forces, the vicious Black and Tan. Two brothers, Damien and Teddy, have differing destinies: The younger Damien, soft spoken, sensitive, with gorgeous baby-blues (Cillian Murphy, excellent. For those who are not film aficionados, Murphy does have a respectable CV in movies, but, BFP reports, he is especially well regarded for his performances on the British stage.) is fresh out of medical school; he plans to leave rural, impoverished County Cork to heal the sick in London. Teddy, ruggedly handsome, tough and courageous, remains faithful to his Irish roots; he is a proud member of the Irish Republican Army.

Loach and Laverty focus the film on Damien. When, at the railway station where he is about to board the train to London, he witnesses Black and Tans fiercely beating a train conductor and engineer for failing to follow their arbitrary instructions, he understands that justice demands his staying home and joining his brother in the fight for independence.

After much violence and death are inflicted on both sides, England offers to accept an Irish Free State ceding to Ireland a fair amount of autonomy, but not complete independence. The brothers split over the compromise, Teddy accepting it as a first step to ultimate nationhood, Damien only seeing a sell-out. Damien’s arc, a negative one, becomes painful to watch. The brilliance and power of the movie, and what ultimately thrusts the film into a moving anti-war statement lies in Loach and Laverty making the viewer see the vise that entraps and ultimately destroys Damien (And Teddy as well.). His enlisting in a struggle to rid his country of an occupying power will make him commit actions that will torment him the rest of his life. Damien is obligated to execute a young acquaintance who, too weak to withstand enemy pressure, gives up important information to the Black and Tan. Damien is a doctor after all, sworn to do no harm. The soul-deadening choices Damien makes are in the name of a great ideal being realized. Failure to accomplish the dream means he has become monstrous, and for what? Not even for a defeat in which he at least fought to the bitter end, but for a deal that could mean in the end nothing more than surrender of his beliefs.

Laverty eloquently and forcefully presents both sides of the argument: Accept the compromise or fight on. We watch enthralled as intelligent men and women debate and engage each other, Loach rigorously maintaining visual neutrality, allowing their ideas to speak for themselves. More painful to the audience is that we know what they don’t: that their unresolved rupture will entail more death and devastation in their nation for decades to come.

Attention must also be paid to the excellent contributions of both cinematographer Barry Ackroyd (their eleventh film together) and to composer George Fenton (their ninth together)for his heart-pounding music. BFP marvels, in particular, at the naturalistic, clear lighting of the jail interiors and of the action sequences midway through in the cottage.

Loach, in interviews, stated this film was partly a response to the War in Iraq. One sees the comparison. He has also said that he has been working on a movie about the Irish Struggle for twenty years. These are not contradictory statements. The Wind That Shakes the Barley is so heartrending because it’s about the extremely painful decisions men must make in time of war.


Photos: Top: Kenneth Loach, Courtesy: Bryce, Flickr
Middle: The Wind That Shakes The Barley, Courtesy: Potts, Flickr