Belfast (2021)
dir. Kenneth Branagh
Rated: PG-13
image: ©2021 Universal Pictures
I was an easy mark for Belfast. Kenneth Branagh’s self-described “most personal” film – it’s semiautobiographical, based on the actor/director’s childhood in Belfast during the Troubles – makes a clever juxtaposition about religion in its opening minutes that won me over. In voice-over, we hear Pa, the father of our nine-year-old protagonist, Buddy, speaking to another adult. “I have nothing against Catholics, but it’s a religion of fear.” Cut to Buddy and his family attending their regular Protestant worship service. The preacher is lambasting his parishioners, admonishing them that if they don’t choose the righteous path when it comes to God’s love, they will burn and suffer for all eternity.
This atheist appreciated Branagh’s wry observation about Irish Catholics and Protestants having more in common in their respective faiths than they imagine.
The factions set against each other during the Troubles were Catholics and Protestants, but the sectarian violence wasn’t primarily about religion. Myriad political, nationalistic, and historical elements were at play in the low-level civil war that tore at Northern Ireland between the late 1960s and the late 1990s. I don’t need to explain any further than that, because the movie doesn’t either. We see the conflict largely through the eyes of nine-year-old Buddy. His understanding is all we need and all the movie is interested in exploring.
Set in 1969, Buddy’s parents struggle to make ends meet. Pa works away from home, near London, so he only really sees his family on the weekends. Ma raises the two kids, Buddy and his big brother, Will, and looks after Pa’s aging parents, whom Buddy calls Granny and Pop. Tensions rise in the family when Pa decides that he has to get his family away from the escalating violence in Belfast. The city is the only home Ma – and Pa, for that matter – has ever known, so she’s reluctant to uproot her entire life.
The most limiting thing about Belfast is its point of view. Despite a bravura opening sequence showcasing the contradictions of being a kid in the middle of a de facto war zone, little Buddy’s adolescent foibles are the least interesting thing about Branagh’s picture. (I realize I’m saying that Kenneth Branagh’s own life – or at least a fictionalized version of it – is the least interesting thing about his movie. I feel oddly bad about that, but since there’s no way Branagh will ever read this, I won’t lose too much sleep over it.)
The opening sequence is worth considering at greater length, since it’s fundamental in building the strong sense of time and place that stands out as Branagh’s true passion and motivation for making the movie. We first see a montage of shots showing modern-day Belfast. Branagh introduces us to his hometown with a classic track from Belfast-native rocker Van Morrison. Beefing up its Irish street cred, the entire soundtrack for the movie is made up of a dozen or so Morrison songs; the classic-rock icon also recorded some incidental music and penned a brand-new song for the movie.
These peaceful scenes of present-day Belfast, in full color, transform when the camera drifts above a wall, beyond which lies the neighborhood that is Buddy’s entire world. Although the wall is in color, the neighborhood nestled behind it is shot in black & white. Evoking memories and the past, the rest of Belfast, excepting a few key sequences, is drained of color.
Running along the neighborhood streets is Buddy. He’s holding a trashcan lid as a makeshift shield to defend himself against the dragons that he imagines are swirling around him. That sweet playtime fantasy comes crashing down when Buddy turns a corner and comes face-to-face with a mob of angry rioters. Buddy’s trashcan lid becomes a real shield when one in the angry mob, who are demanding that all Catholics in the neighborhood leave for good, lobs a Molotov cocktail into the street, which lands a few scant yards from Buddy. In that moment, we see a kid confronted with circumstances he could never understand.
The more mundane coming-of-age sequences centering on Buddy are less compelling. We see the boy work determinedly on his studies for the chance to move seats in his classroom – the students move desks each week as determined by academic performance – in a bid to sit next to his crush. He and some neighborhood friends try to shoplift sweets – and get busted – at the local candy store. That brief subplot is echoed effectively later in the movie when Buddy and his family are caught up in the violent ransacking of their neighborhood grocery store.
The greatest strength of Belfast is its sense of place. Over the course of its svelte 97 minutes, Branagh builds Buddy’s limited world both on screen and in the imagination of his audience. The camera’s lithe movements up and down the streets of this little corner of Belfast create a vital and vibrant community with a shared history. In one shot, the camera follows characters as they walk down the street; out of the corner of our eye, we see Mr. Singh’s sweet shop, where our hero made his ill-fated attempt at petty theft earlier in the story. By the end of the movie, Branagh had made me feel as at home in this world as his characters do.
It's easy to tell that Branagh has a lot of affection for this time and place in his life. Feeling that affection makes it easier to overlook some of Belfast’s dramatic shortcomings. Buddy is conveniently always within earshot – but rarely within eyesight of those on whom he’s eavesdropping – for important, emotionally fraught conversations between adults, usually his parents. There’s also a Western-style movie standoff in the film’s climax that rings false. Buddy is enamored, as was presumably the case for nine-year-old Kenneth Branagh, with movies and stage productions. We see him watching two Westerns that famously feature standoffs and shootouts, High Noon and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. Branagh tries to recreate the suspense of moments in those movies for the climax of his own film, but the effect feels too calculated and self-conscious to be genuine.
The exact opposite of that calculation is present in how Branagh telegraphs Buddy’s infatuation with movies and stage productions. It’s a brilliant use of the axiom “show, don’t tell” that is the strength of visual storytelling. In this black & white world, any time Buddy and his family go to the movies or to see a stage show, what the characters are seeing on the screen or stage is in full color. It’s the simplest bit of magic to see shots of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang in all its glorious Technicolor cut against shots of our protagonists looking on in wonder in black & white.
The performances in Belfast are wonderful. Caitríona Balfe as Ma is achingly mournful as a woman who faces leaving everything that she has ever known in order to give her children a more stable and safe living environment. Jamie Dornan – of my beloved Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar – plays Pa with a quiet strength and dignity that belies the regret his character has for not being more present in his kids’ lives.
Stalwart character actor Ciarán Hinds and Dame Judi Dench lend a warm, heartfelt touch as Pop and Granny. I never fail to be amazed at Dench’s ability to play either a sweet old grandmother or James Bond’s no-nonsense boss M, and her ability to disappear into either role completely. Making his feature film debut is child actor Jude Hill as Buddy. Hill has the appropriate level of precociousness for the role, but I had trouble believing his performance in the more dramatic moments that the movie demands of him.
Known mostly for his cinematic adaptations of Shakespeare – and I guess he’s trying to do the same now with Agatha Christie’s famous Hercule Poirot character – Kenneth Branagh has dialed down the high drama of the Bard for a quotidian slice-of-life close to his own heart, albeit one set against harrowing circumstances. While dramatically uneven, I felt at home in the world Branagh created. Belfast gave me a very personal glimpse into an important corner of its creator’s history. I feel richer for having had the experience.
Why it got 3.5 stars:
- Belfast doesn’t break any new ground, but it’s a heartwarming crowd pleaser. That’s a seemingly hard task to pull off, considering the bleak circumstances of the story.
Things I forgot to mention in my review, because, well, I'm the Forgetful Film Critic:
- George Carlin had a great bit (you can find it on his Class Clown and a on compilation album titled Classic Gold) about growing up Catholic and a series of parables his neighborhood priest was fond of using. The parables concerned two little boys named Dusty and Buddy. Dusty was a Catholic. Buddy was not. I would love to know if Kenneth Branagh is a Carlin fan, and if that’s why he named his Protestant protagonist Buddy.
- The sequences of color used for movies or stage shows that the characters are watching really does feel magical. In addition to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, we also see a live stage show of A Christmas Carol, and the movie One Million Years B.C., starring Raquel Welch.
Close encounters with people in movie theaters:
- Belfast is available in select theaters and for rent or sale on most streaming platforms. I saw it via an awards consideration screener disc in my home theater.