Elephant

I saw Elephant when it was first broadcast on BBC TV in 1989. There was a certain amount of hoo-ha about it, as the BBC had already put it back for a few months - films about the North of Ireland were, and are, touchy subjects. Watching it is riveting. The complete absence of story, dialogue and explanation serves to bring home the fact that, after all the talk and propaganda and fine words about freeing Ireland from the British oppressors or defending Ulster from the filthy Taigs, killing is killing - people are dying, frequently and horribly, and can there ever be a "reason" for it? I grew up in sheltered south Dublin and witnessed the Troubles at second-hand, filtered through the language of journalism; Elephant brought home to me, in the most visceral way, the relentless insanity of the situation. The film should be compulsory viewing in UK and Irish schools.

The major criticism of Elephant is that it's too simple - that the lack of context and explanation aren't enough. But the serial nature of it, muder after murder after murder, have an unforgettable power. It's not meant to be an attempt at the overall picture; it's a cry of horror against an appalling situation. I saw it once, ten years ago, and have never forgotten it.

It was directed by the late Alan Clarke, undoubtedly the best director of TV Britain has ever seen (maybe the best British director since Michael Powell). He had already given early breaks to Tim Roth (in Made in Britain) and Gary Oldman (in The Firm - not the Tom Cruise vehicle, but a brutal TV movie about soccer hooliganism). The title comes from the writer Bernard MacLaverty, who said that the Troubles were like having an elephant in your living room. That's what it was like to watch this film.

The Troubles in Northern Ireland inspired a lot films and dramas. Some more controversial than others.

Alan Clarke's Elephant was totally left field. When the BBC broadcast it, they were inundated with complaints on television programs such as 'Points of View.'

Never before we had a television drama, almost wordless where one person shoots another person, a few minutes later someone else shoots another and so on and so on.

Be they working in a petrol station, in a swimming pool, playing football, eating in a restaurant, at home or walking in the park, someone blasts them.

These horrific random acts of violence in due course desensitizes us to the violence. Maybe even render us bored and confused.

Without dialogue we are unsure as to what is happening and just seeing people walking about until they take a gun out and shoot somebody.

Alan Clarke was an early adopter of the Steadicam for television work which means we follow the various people out and about as the camera operator is alongside them.

This was one of Clarke's last works. He died a year later. Seeing Elephant again when the film is almost 25 years old, I was struck that this is now a period piece.

Northern Ireland has moved on since the peace process of the 1990s.

No context given. No story to narrate. No elaborate set pieces or character actors. Maybe about 2 lines of dialogue. What else is there? Only the brutal reality of a country's dirty little secret. Many films about touchy political issues are analysed through a character's interpretation of how they think or how a particular story plays out but Clarke plays it out simply: people are dying... never mind the other stuff, death is caused through our own inability to absorb other people's views. The end factor being death is all that really needs to be shown to get the point across. Clarke makes fantastic use of tracking shots, slipping left and right and around to follow a person into their death.

It's provocative and probably the best TV movie ever made. I can't imagine people sitting down at night, tuning into the BBC and wondering what they should think about this mini masterpiece.

In this picture not a word is spoken. Probably set in Northern-Ireland it consists of several unrelated scenes in which we follow, with the familiar 'HandyCam' shots of Alan Clarke one or two characters for several minutes until they approach a person ... and shoot him. I think it's the atmosphere, the long buildup before the actual kill, the complete lack of both emotion and conversation that made this movie work for me. Ten years after seeing this film I still remember several scenes. It gave me the feeling that I was watching the way the killings really happen(ed) in Ireland. I wish they would repeat it someday on television.

The height of minimalism. I can imagine watching this at the time and place it was meant to be watched and having the feeling of being punched in the face but not sure by whom.

Hard to watch, partly because the movie really strains the patience. But knowing the background, I sort of want to admire it. It's uncompromising, deliberately unlovely and has no interest in winning a popularity contest.

If one goes in with the patience required, it's a hypnotic and nauseatingly real that sends a message clear as day without the obnoxiousness of actually saying it: this isn't cool, people are dying. It's not an action movie anymore. A sort of anti-action movie. A lot of it is conceptual, sort of like a Pollack painting only a lot less self-indulgent.

Impossible to forget.