Film Review: Kneecap is riotous and confronting as it bridges the gap between politics and crowd-pleasing

A far deeper, more important film than many may be expecting from what is being sold on the surface, Rich Peppiatt‘s Kneecap speaks to the importance of language preservation within the fictionalised biopic framing of its titular rap group.

There’s an undeniable energy to Peppiatt’s direction as he throws an array of substances at the screen, detailing the drug-fueled lives of Liam (Liam Óg “Mo Chara” Ó Hannaidh) and Naoise (Naoise “Móglaí Bap” Ó Cairealláin).  Growing up as part of the “ceasefire generation” in West Belfast, the boys learned to speak Irish from Naoise’s father, Arlo (Michael Fassbender), a former republican paramilitary who has faked his death in order to evade British authorities.  This, in turn, has left Naoise’s mother, Dolores (Simone Kirby), a recluse, whilst Arlo, living in his own seclusion, can’t help but express disappointment in his son’s hedonistic lifestyle.

Lifestyle and language ultimately merge when Liam is arrested at a party and refuses to only verbalise in Irish to the officers.  Particularly getting under the skin of Detective Ellis (Josie Walker) in the process, Liam finds an unlikely ally in Irish-language music teacher JJ (JJ “DJ Próvaí” Ó Dochartaigh), who’s brought in to translate Liam’s native tongue.

Whilst he knows it’s in his best interest to help the authorities, JJ finds himself drawn to Liam, so much so that he helps him avoid charges all together.   He also notes Liam’s Irish scrawling in a notebook and, impressed with the lyrics he reads, approaches both Liam and Naoise with the proposition of performing as an Irish-language hip-hop act, believing that their music could introduce the Irish language to modern audiences.  After a little convincing, Liam and Naoise agree, and together Kneecap is formed; the name stemming from after the infamous punitive torture technique common in Northern Ireland during the ethno-nationalist conflict of the late 60s to 90s.

Not wanting to damage his teaching career, JJ performs under the moniker DJ Próvaí, consuming his identity with a balaclava, as well as similarly keeping his involvement secret from his girlfriend (Fionnuala Flaherty).  The “anti-social behaviour” of the band and the outspoken republicanism of their lyrics brings them mass attention, both for better and worse; Liam and Naoise see their studio vandalised, whilst JJ continually lives in fear of his identity being uncovered.

Whilst Peppiatt’s script, which also credits its story idea to Ó Hannaidh, Ó Cairealláin and Ó Dochartaigh, has a certain theatricality to it, you can sense how grounded and true-to-life so much of Kneecap is, even if it’s occasionally hard to grasp with the amount of kinetic energy expressed on screen.  Even with its array of narrative detours, Peppiatt always finds a way home to the film’s most important message, that of preserving the Irish language; the film lays some numbing truths as it expresses on screen that an indigenous language dies every 40 days across the world.

Riotous and confronting it may be to some – the sex, language and drug quota is considerable across its 105 minutes – Kneecap still manages a sense of affability as it bridges the gap between politics and a crowd pleasing temperament

THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)

Kneecap is screening in Australian theatres from August 29th, 2024.

Peter Gray

Seasoned film critic. Gives a great interview. Penchant for horror. Unashamed fan of Michelle Pfeiffer and Jason Momoa.