Native Tongues

Kneecap (Rich Peppiatt, 2024)

Despite being drawn to the trailer and a handful of preview clips, my enthusiasm over Kneecap (2024) hit the backburner once early reviews were comparing it to Danny Boyle's Trainspotting (1996); a film which really made me feel I was in Bizarro World after all the unworthy praise it received. Thankfully, Frankie McNamara, the most entertaining culture critic from the Emerald Isle since Tom Paulin, gave the film his glowing approval. This was the impetus I needed to get off my arse and check it out.

Set in Belfast, Northern Ireland, this raucous comedy/docu-drama is essentially a semi-fictional origin story of the rap group Kneecap. Introduced as two young lads up for the crack, Mo Chara and Móglaí Bap are ceasefire babies - the common description of the generation grown up during Northern Ireland's more recent and peaceful period. The duo have been inseparable tearaways since they were wee weans putting weed in the Catholic priest's censor. In young adulthood, they are lairy and shell-suited street kids.

When the pair aren't dealing or partaking in various narcotics, they're making rap music in their indigenous language. Their insistence to rap in Irish serves two reasons: the preservation of their mother tongue and an act of defiance to the Northern Irish authoritarians. A noble cause which is shared with school music teacher JJ Ó Dochartaigh, who, after being summoned by the local police to serve as a translator, winds up becoming the third drug-binging member of Kneecap. Thus, donning his trademark tricolour balaclava as DJ Próvai.

At this point, I'm compelled to reveal my complete ignorance of Irish Rap; save for the confession that I copped the CD single Ship Ahoy back in the day by commie Hip-Hop group Marxman (in hindsight, the band’s name and their debut album cover were glaringly obvious). It were the love of Irish flutes and Sinead O' Connor's angelic singing on the chorus, Your Honour. They alone had me overlooking the painful, vowel-chewing rhymes of these rappers, and the rest of their horrid music. Really regret not climbing over the greased metal railings back in 1990 when myself and a bunch of mates snuck into Highgate Cemetery. If it weren't for the graveyard scene in The Omen (1976) being burned in my brain, where Gregory Peck caught his sleeve on an iron spike while a pack of rabid rottweilers were gnashing at his legs, I could have climbed over and pissed on Comrade Karl's grave and avenge the millions who perished from his ideology.

 

Back to the film. Kneecap is something of a gem on account of not dwelling on its subplots longer than necessary, which keeps the film moving at a breezy and entertaining pace. This is perhaps one of its greatest strengths. It's both satirical and slapstick; able to mock what some might consider sensitive issues, whilst also indulging in juvenile humour - especially when it pertains to drug consumption. A prime example is when the band mistakenly consume ketamine before a gig and Móglaí Bap's face turns into Sinn Féin's Gerry Adams. The anarchic group are caught in the crossfires of both the Belfast Police and the fictional paramilitary organisation known as the R.R.A.D (Radical Republicans Against Drugs), which leads to hilarious shots at both sides.

The supporting cast are particularly strong. The film's most recognisable star is undoubtedly Michael Fassbender as Móglaí's estranged father, Arló Ó Cairealláin; a paramilitary who faked his own death to avoid capture. Amazingly, Fassbender managed to carry the swagger of a bad ass, despite his scraggly ginger beard and wearing a pair of sandals. The gag Bobby Sandals was not lost on me. The affect of him being in hiding for so many years has had adverse affects on his family. His wife, Dolores (Simone Kirby), has become an agoraphobic and is literally a prisoner in her own home. Jessica Reynolds plays Mo Chara's love interest Georgia, a Protestant girl whose dirty talk during sex is both hilarious and messed up. She could pass for Annabelle Wallis's younger, brunette sister. Can definitely see her as a star in more mainstream films in the foreseeable future.

A huge shame the band's music isn't my cup of tea, however. For a bunch of rowdy rap lads with such immense energy, I kind of cringed to their EDM beats and awkward rapping. Obviously, their music is meant for less discerning broccoli-haired zoomers than an old git like myself, but it does set an obvious barrier. I suppose the concert performance scenes in front of a jam packed and completely rocking audience might be akin to Public Enemy's legendary Hammersmith gig to young 'uns, but the quality of their music is nowhere near in the same universe to a boom bap dinosaur, sadly. This is the one real drawback of the film. Kneecap isn't a band whose music I like enough to buy. Kneecap is a film I like enough to cop on blu-ray, however.

It might offend some for its colourful language and heavy drug use, but Kneecap contains plenty of boisterous energy and smart social satire that you can't help being won over by it. Much like Baz Luhrmann's Elvis (2022), Kneecap is another musical biopic which kept me entertained throughout its run time.

Highly recommended.