Leave Me Shaking

My friends and I walked into the theater about ten minutes into "The Wind that Shakes the Barley," directed by Ken Loach. The movie is about the Irish War of Independence, taking place during the early 1920's, and as we moved to our seats, murder, sobbing, screaming, and fury were on the screen. Instead of discussing the seats we chose, my companions settled near the back of the room silently, eyes fixed on the commotion in lights ahead of us.

"Barley" concerns two brothers, first on the same team, then on opposing sides of a violent political conflict. The English have occupied Ireland for centuries, and the Irish want independence. Damien (Cillian Murphy) is a young doctor, intelligent, and hesitant to join the Irish Republican Army. Teddy (Pádraic Delaney) is his brother, a prominant figure in a local IRA group. The movie is languid, cold, open, and light, despite the heavy darkness of the theme. It is beautiful and cruel, the best combination of artistic elements (they are deravitives of the ultimate contrasting ideals, love and hate; it doesn't get better than that).

The actors were up to the challenge, emoting the hell out of lines both ordinary and impressive. Impassioned political debate mixes with brotherly squabbling that turns from persuasion and logic to desperation and determination. Liam Cunningham plays Dan, an older man who has been in the IRA longer than the brothers, and he seems to anchor Damien to the earth, at least at first. They meet in prison, where the lines seem clear and the danger is a defined enemy. Later in the movie, Damien realizes he's gone too far, but the momentum is too fast to let him off. Suddenly--or has it slowly been happening since the beginning of the film?--the lines between right and wrong begin to blur. No one seems completely sure which is which, even when he declares his cause to be just. People were fighting for the same goals--peace and freedom--but some chose one over the other. I found it difficult to agree completely with either brother, for they were both passionate and earnest, and both championing what seems to be a righteous cause. "Barley" contains a convincing argument that reasonable men can be forced to do things they would otherwise avoid at all costs.

Perhaps what makes this movie so good is the scenery, the lovely Irish country. It could be the realistic delivery of the dialogue, the solid direction, or the lines themselves. Hell, it might have been the new theater, the current political climate, or history that has always fascinated me. Really, all of those factored into the equation of a damn good movie. What makes me call it great, though, is that my friends, so easily distracted and bored (like myself) were transfixed, reacting to everything in it. They declared it a win, and I myself was left nearly breathless in the end. The ebb and tide of human relationships, on a large or small scale, will always be what make film, literature, and music so compelling, and the more believable the story, the better the art.

That said, "The Wind that Shakes the Barley" is some truly amazing art.