The Wind That Shakes the Barley

I was disappointed by this film, either from inflated expectations or by post-midnight lapses in attention. Ken Loach is on my shortlist of great contemporary directors (and indeed I enjoyed the dvd-extra hour-long profile of him and his working methods more than the feature itself) and this film comes festooned with the Palme d’Or from Cannes, but I failed to engage with it deeply. I’m also a fan of Cillian Murphy going back to the BBC adaptation of Trollope’s The Way We Live Now, and an inveterate watcher of films on Irish themes (going back to my long collaboration with Kevin O’Hara on his book of Irish travels, Last of the Donkey Pilgrims.) There’s also a distinct contemporary relevance to this look at the Irish struggle for independence around 1920 (the same era covered in Neil Jordan’s Michael Collins) -- as guerrilla struggle against an occupying army leads from sectarian strife to internecine violence. There are some shocking scenes of Black & Tan brutality, as well as Republican retaliation, which have an honest sense of chaos and fear. So why did this film fail to click for me? It’s well-shot and well-acted, but strangely hollow, reminding me of the old Russian saying, “The tears of other people are only water.” We are meant to identify with the tragedy of Murphy’s character, destined to be a doctor but derailed from healing into death-dealing by both sides of a reign of terror, but I couldn’t help thinking all the way through -- he should have known better. My own views are virtually as socialist as Loach’s but far more pacifist. (2006, dvd, n.) *6+* (MC-82.)

I must say, in contrast, that my screening of The Impressionists at the Clark exceeded expectations. Though I did’t expect to watch the 3-episode docudrama from the BBC all the way through again, I was riveted and enjoyed it along with a large and enthusiastic audience. I’m still bothered by the total absence of Pissarro on one hand, and Cassatt and Morisot on the other, but otherwise the film conveys a sense of authenticity, both in the stories of the individual painters and paintings, and in the dynamics of the movement. Well-acted, highly plausible, and visually spectacular, this is art history at its most painless.