Il vento che accarezza l'erba

An exciting piece of Ken Loach drama based on events that sparked the Irish war of independence. Despite being labelled 'anti-British' by critics born 60 years after these events took place, the incidents depicted in this film have in fact all been documented by the British government and are a matter of historical fact. Events such as the treatment of the local population at the brutal hands of the infamous convict drafted Black and tans force have all been recorded assiduously by both sides in the conflict. And the civil war that followed a decision to allow the mostly protestant north to be a part of the new British welfare state. A clash of ideals, deftly handled by Loach, it's a real pity that so many will have their minds made up before they've even seen the film.

"The Wind That Shakes the Barley" is a cinematic masterpiece that captivates from start to finish. Set against the backdrop of the Irish War of Independence, the film beautifully portrays the struggle for freedom and the personal sacrifices made in its pursuit. Director Ken Loach's meticulous attention to detail brings the period to life, immersing viewers in the turbulent atmosphere of early 20th-century Ireland. The performances are exceptional, with Cillian Murphy delivering a standout portrayal as a young man torn between duty and his ideals. The film's narrative is gripping, exploring themes of nationalism, betrayal, and the human cost of revolution. Its powerful storytelling is matched by stunning cinematography, capturing both the beauty of the Irish countryside and the brutality of war. "The Wind That Shakes the Barley" is a must-watch for anyone interested in history, politics, or simply compelling storytelling. With its profound emotional impact and thought-provoking themes, this film earns its place as a modern classic.

For the past thirty years I have had a love affair with Ireland and over this time it has never failed to surprise, delight and humble me. This last weekend, much to my surprise, a small town cinema in deepest Hampshire, chose to screen 'The Wind that Shakes the Barley'. I am not sure of its motives for doing so but it brought to this small Saturday evening English audience a stark reminder about the brutality of its colonial past and its recent mistreatment of one of its nearest neighbours. For me the beauty of this film is in its honest portrayal of the momentous events that took place as seen through the eyes of a small Irish community. What is not lost is the knowledge that these same actions, tensions and emotions are taking place in every other community throughout Ireland at this time and it is this common purpose that in the end provides the momentum that forces change. The film does not shy away from the level of brutality that is required to force this change through. For me the uncompromising use of dialect reinforces the small community aspect and constantly acts as a reminder to us English that the Irish were, and still are, culturally different from us and are proud of it. So, if you want to see for yourself then look up your local sleepy cinema and you may be as surprised as I was.

For me the film had an added dimension in that the same catalogue of events are still being played out on the world stage today wherever you have dominance by a colonial power over its neighbour. The same resistance builds against suppression and the common purpose creates the conditions for change. Once the realisation is understood that change is achievable the common purpose takes second place to the aspirations of various factions and the momentum falters while it turns in on itself and the bitter struggle for dominance is played out. This struggle may end in civil war, partition or both. Meanwhile, the colonial power endeavours to try to influence the outcome. Such are the dynamics of the human condition.

This is a truly great film and well deserving of the Palm D'Or.

It has been said that it is pro IRA or IRA propaganda. I disagree. In fact I think the reverse is the case. It shows up both the brutality of war and the even greater brutality of civil war that sets nation against nation and brother against brother. The film provides an understanding of how Ireland became independent in 1920-1921. It is well documented (e.g. visit the BBC or CAIN websites) that the Black and Tans were a brutal and oppressive irregular force sent to put down the rebellion. The IRA reacted with similar brutality. The film records both with equally graphic scenes. But that is only the first half of the film. The second half deals with the civil war. That's even more tragic and brutal.

Who was on the right side or the wrong side? The film presents the arguments but I really don't think the film takes sides. More of the anti British and anti treaty argument is advanced. But this is understandable because it is historically accurate that West Cost was ferociously anti British and mainly anti treaty. That's why Michael Collins was destined to die there. And it is more important to understand why people/nations go to war or civil war rather than why they don't.

Understanding the reasons does not mean support for war. The film highlights the futility and awfulness of war. Misery destruction and death. Is there such a thing as a just war (apart from 2nd World war)? Aside from the historical debate, the story, filming and acting is magnificent. Much better than the Green Berets on the just war by USA in Vietnam! Blackhawk Down brilliantly covered Somalia from the external US perspective. This film brilliantly covers the 1920/21 wars from the Irish perspective. We need all perspectives.

Well worth seeing with an open mind. Then read the history if you want.

The remarkably low rating that this film has so far received (4.1 as of Thursday 8th of June) is indicative of its ability to raise the hackles of people who haven't even seen it. How can it be otherwise when the film has not yet been released? 135 people have voted; have all of these 135 people actually watched the film? Of course not. They're just voting on the basis of their perceptions or assumptions concerning its political agenda. IMDb voters are not alone in this; already Simon Heffer in The Daily Telegraph, Dominic Lawson in The Independent, Ruth Dudley-Edwards in The Daily Mail and Michael Gove in The Times are attacking a film they haven't seen (by their own admission). These attacks are the predictable reaction of empire apologists unable to abide the depiction of the dark and brutal underside of that imperial machine, or the suggestion that anyone on the receiving end of that brutality might be justified in rebelling against it. The title of Dudley-Edward's lazy hack-job says it all, really: 'Why does Ken Loach loathe his country?' Loach is a traitor, and must be punished, the rotter.

It's a pity that this political controversy seems poised to overwhelm discussion of the film, because it's an extremely able piece of cinema and deserves to be seen as such. Barry Ackroyd's cinematography is superb, ably capturing the beauty of the Irish countryside without indulging in it. We are rooted in a locale without being lavished with pretty pictures. The acting is also excellent. The charismatic Cillian Murphy carries the movie, but the support from Liam Cunningham, Orla Fitzgerald, Aidan O'Hare and Padraic Delaney is also commendable.

But it's the collaboration between Loach and his scriptwriter Paul Laverty that makes the film something like a masterpiece. The grim progress from the murder of an Irish youth to the growth of an armed I.R.A. campaign, with its attendant violence (shown in stark and horrifying detail) is expertly managed; the only let-up comes not far from the end, after the signing of the 1921 peace treaty. Loach tries to show the brief jubilation and relief that ensues, but in terms of momentum almost drops the ball. The pace is re-established in time for the inexorable tragic denouement, and the film's final emotional impact is considerable. The load is occasionally lightened by the odd touch of Loach's characteristic wry comedy, such as the belligerence of the opening hurling game, the teenage message-boy who loses his message, the melodramatic pianist accompanying the newsreel announcing the momentous news of the creation of the Free State.

One of the most disturbing scenes occurs when a group of I.R.A. men return from a successful battle and discover a farmhouse being attacked and destroyed by a group of British soldiers. The rebels, who have no ammunition left, are forced to look on, concealed in the bushes; they watch powerless as the farmhouse's inhabitants are abused. We watch along with the characters, just as helpless as they are. Why do we watch? Do we want to intervene, to play the hero and save the day? Do we perhaps enjoy it? The trouble with many so-called anti-war films, as Loach has said, is that they outwardly condemn the violence while at the same time encouraging (intentionally or not) a vicarious pleasure in the thrill of it all. We want to take part, we imagine how we would behave in such circumstances (of course, we usually imagine ourselves behaving with impeccable bravery and surviving to fight another day). This scene, rather than placing us in the thick of the action, forces us to occupy the position of impotent bystander. Perhaps this is what being a film-goer is all about: powerless voyeurism. As we watch the country tear itself apart in civil war, manipulated by a devious and callous colonial master, this point becomes all the more pertinent. A quietly devastating film.