Armed with an impressive seven Academy Award nominations, Kenneth Branagh’s riveting, semi-autobiographical drama has just become available via streaming services.
This is must-see cinema.
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| Buddy (Jude Hill, his back to camera) listens quietly while his mother (Caitriona Balfe), grandmother (Judi Dench) and grandfather (Ciarán Hinds) explain what has been happening in their neighborhood. |
In this case, Branagh’s quasi-surrogate self is 9-year-old Buddy, played with beguiling innocence and impishness by Jude Hill, in a stunning feature film debut. Because this story is viewed through Buddy’s experiences and imagination, Hill is in practically every scene, and he capably carries the film; he’s beyond adorable.
Branagh extracts an amazingly accomplished and nuanced performance from this young lad. It’s a crime that he didn’t secure a Best Actor nod to accompany all the other well-earned nominations.
Cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos opens with an imposing, full-color overview of today’s Belfast. We then slide into a crowded, working-class pocket neighborhood; the image turns monochromatic as we’re whisked back to the summer of 1969. Children play merrily in the sun-dappled streets; adults chat amiably while walking to and from the little shops nestled in between row houses.
Everybody knows everybody else. When Buddy’s Ma (Caitriona Balfe) calls him in for tea, the message is passed along via children and adults until it finally reaches him.
Then, suddenly, anarchy: An angry mob rounds a street corner like a swarm of maddened bees, laying waste to homes, shop windows, vehicles and anything else in their path … with a focus on Catholic families. It’s the opening salvo of the five-day political and sectarian violence that quickly spread through Ireland and led to the 30-year conflict dubbed “The Troubles.”
Buddy, terrified, stands frozen like a deer caught in headlights. We see the disconnect in his gaze; the boy cannot begin to comprehend the savage reality of what’s happening.
In that instant, his life — and that of his family, and everybody else — is altered. Forever. The calm of sociable neighborliness has been shattered, never to return; Catholic and Protestant families, once close friends, now eye each other warily. (Buddy and his family are Protestants.)
In the aftermath, streets are barricaded; watchers are posted 24/7. Buddy’s universe — this tiny portion of Northern Belfast — has become an artificial island.
But life goes on, as it always does for children; they’re resilient. So Buddy still escapes, as often as possible, into the fantasy landscapes of American movies: particularly Westerns, with their clearly defined line between good and evil.
Buddy lives with his Ma and older brother, Will (Lewis McAskie); their Pa (Jamie Dornan), a joiner, often is away for weeks while working various jobs in England, trying to earn enough to support his family. His brief visits are devoted to his sons: walking them to school, taking the family to the cinema, playing sports.
And Pa has a wicked fast ball.
Buddy also spends a lot of time with his father’s parents, Pop (Ciarán Hinds) and Granny (Judi Dench), whom he visits every day after school. At first blush, their relationship seems prickly, with Granny forever rolling her eyes at Pop’s morally dubious “pearls of wisdom.” But that’s simply their way; they clearly love each other unreservedly.
And, as we — and Buddy — quickly discover, Pop’s advice and observations often are spot-on.
Both veteran actors are totally endearing. Hinds exudes quiet warmth, and his posture and movements are graceful, almost regal. He’s stock-serious when delivering wry, slow-burn one-liners, which makes them even funnier. Pop is charming, even-tempered and incurably romantic, given to spontaneous grand gestures.
Pop always finds a measure of comfort, even as this crisis develops. As Dornan observes, in the press notes, Pop has the quality of “living with fear, but still being able to find joy and laughter in almost every situation.” It’s the Belfast way.
Dench’s Granny is a quieter study; her love for family — and particularly Buddy — emerges in a crinkled smile and doting expression. Granny is put through an emotional wringer as Branagh’s saga moves into its final act, and this is where Dench truly shines; her precise, stoic dignity doesn’t mask the grief in her gaze.
(Both Hinds and Dench are nominated for their supporting roles.)
Buddy’s parents’ relationship isn’t ideal. Pa has a longstanding “spot of bother with the taxman,” which prompts financial difficulties that strain the marriage; Ma knows that he’s being irresponsible. We get a sense that he probably spends too much on drinking and gambling, but Dornan makes it clear that Pa nonetheless is an honorable man who refuses to disavow his Catholic neighbors simply because sectarian thugs demand it.
But matters get more serious. The rising violence has given stature to a local criminal (Colin Morgan, as Billy Clanton), who insists that Pa “join the cause” … or else. This prompts the agonizing question with which Pa subsequently wrestles: For safety’s sake, must they leave their beloved home? As has become clear by this point, it isn’t merely a neighborhood; it’s Belfast. Departing would be akin to abandoning their faith.
Balfe’s Ma is a force of nature: a mother tiger who heedlessly risks life and limb when necessary, in order to protect her children. But she also has a playful, even mischievous side; Balfe and Dornan are marvelous during an evening out that climaxes with a spirited dance to the music of a local band. This is when we know they truly love each other.
Branagh develops all these characters superbly, via their many interactions, and the way they adapt to their rapidly changing environment. Important as all this is, Buddy’s various adventures — good and bad — remain in the foreground.
He develops a crush on Catherine (Olive Tennant), a girl in his classroom; their blossoming relationship is too cute for words. (That said, the constantly changing pecking order of who gets to sit where in class, based on graded assignments, is even more brutal than the eye-popping, hellfire-and-damnation sermons thundered by their foaming-at-the-mouth church minister.)
Buddy, hopelessly naïve about such things, also spends far too much time with his slightly older cousin Moira (Lara McDonnell), an obvious bad influence who gets him into trouble more than once.
Jim Clay’s production design is impeccable; it genuinely feels as if we’ve slipped back in time, to a little pocket of 1969. Zambarloukos’ monochromatic cinematography helps that illusion; he and Branagh also know precisely how to frame their characters, for maximum emotional impact.
The thoughtful, somber score comes from no less than Van Morrison; his poignant title song, “Down to Joy,” is another of the film’s Oscar nominees.
Branagh’s greatest achievement is that, despite this historic setting’s palpably rising atmosphere of peril, his film nonetheless exudes spirit, vitality, hope and — most crucially — life-affirming humor.
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