By Jeremy Dewar
Rich Peppiatt’s debut feature length film Kneecap is a feel-good, coming-of-age comedy with a twist. The twist being that it is also a tale about Irish language rights and ultimately Ireland’s freedom from British rule.
First of all it is great craic. Previously Peppiatt had only directed Irish rappers Kneecap’s music videos and he brings the same energy and pace to the movie. The film is essentially a fictionalised account of how the rap trio came to be.
Naoise and Liam are childhood friends, raised in a Catholic ghetto in the north of Ireland during the 1990s (Liam pointedly corrects his Protestant girlfriend Gloria when she says Northern Ireland). Naoise is also the son of Arlo, an IRA gunman who disappeared himself to escape British capture soon after Naoise’s birth.
Arlo teaches the boys Gaelic, insisting ‘every word of Irish spoken is a bullet for Irish freedom’. But for Naoise and Liam it comes to take on a greater significance. They proclaim themselves the ‘ceasefire generation’ (irony intended). British rule, particularly in the shape of the ‘peelers’, the PSNI police force, and discrimination against the Irish language, dominates their lives. However, the context and the means of resistance have evolved.
When Naoise is caught drug dealing—note: you will enjoy this film more if you like drugs and hip-hop—he insists on his right to be questioned in the Irish language. The reluctant interpreter, who turns out to be music teacher JJ, aka DJ Próvai, saves Naoise from charges and further mistreatment. Eventually, JJ joins the younger men and encourages them to form a rap crew, Kneecap (‘What is Belfast famous for?’ they joke. ‘The Titanic?’ no, ‘Kneecapping!’).
Without giving too much away, the rest of the film is set against the struggle for equal language rights in the Orange province and the passage of the Irish Language Act in 2022. The band’s journey inevitably intersects with the political struggle.
Not only are the northern Irish people and the British state in conflict, but also the younger generation, to an extent across the sectarian divide, are pitted against the old Republican guard, in the shape of the ridiculous and corrupt Radical Republicans Against Drugs (RRAD, clearly based on the Provisional IRA’s DAAD and the Real IRA’s RAAD).
The political message of the film is twofold. The first is that the struggle for a united Ireland increasingly fits with the needs of a diverse society and its youth.
The second message is more problematic. Certainly there should be no return to the dead end of guerrilla warfare, but that doesn’t answer the question of strategy: ‘Twenty years of armed struggle couldn’t defeat the Brits, how are you going to do it?’ asks JJ at one point. The exceptional violence of the PSNI, not to mention the Loyalist militias, will stand in the way of any progressive movement on the national question.
Only through an analysis of class—a question Kneecap ignores—can the forces of progress be found. Breaking the Unionist bloc and winning the most dynamic sections of the Protestant working class, i.e. its youth, for a united Ireland are the tasks facing all democrats and socialists in the north of Ireland today. And in that respect, Kneecap is a welcome contribution.
