Kneecap (2024, dir. Rich Peppiatt)

by Jack Martin | Aug 20, 2024

Certificate: 18

Running Time: 105 mins

UK Distributor: Curzon

UK Release Date: 23 August 2024

WHO’S IN KNEECAP?

Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh, Naoise Ó Cairealláin, JJ Ó Dochartaigh, Josie Walker, Fionnula Flaherty, Jessica Reynolds, Adam Best, Simone Kirby, Michael Fassbender

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Rich Peppiatt (director, writer), Trevor Birney and Jack Tarling (producers), Michael ‘Mikey J’ Asante and Gemma Doherty (composers), Ryan Kernaghan (cinematographer), Chris Gill and Julian Ulrichs (editors)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

Three young men in Northern Ireland form a provocative hip-hop trio…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON KNEECAP?

From the Beatles to as recently as the Foo Fighters, there’s a long history of bands playing themselves in movies, and more often than not you can tell that they’re not exactly professional actors. They’re certainly trying, but it’s fairly obvious that in most cases they are just simply reciting memorised lines rather than actually simulating a genuine emotional experience for the audience.

That isn’t the case with Kneecap, the controversial hip-hop trio from Northern Ireland who all star as fictional versions of themselves in writer-director Rich Peppiatt’s biopic, simply titled Kneecap. All three members – Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh, Naoise Ó Cairealláin and JJ Ó Dochartaigh – give performances that would have you in utter disbelief that they have never acted in front of a camera before (and no, their music videos – also directed by Peppiatt – don’t count), while their screen presence is appropriately anarchic and, surprisingly, quite heartfelt. Theirs are surely some of the finest acting performances by an otherwise dramatically untrained music group, in a film that is a real riot in every sense of the phrase.

The film – spoken primarily in the indigenous Irish language – initially introduces the trio leading very different lives. Liam and Naoise, depicted here as childhood friends growing up in post-ceasefire West Belfast, make their way through life by dealing drugs and evading the “peelers” – that’s “police”, for those unfamiliar with the term – who are cracking down on republicanism. JJ, meanwhile, lives a quieter existence as a music teacher whose girlfriend Caitlin (Fionnuala Flaherty) is campaigning to have the Irish language officially recognised by Stormont.

Their worlds eventually collide when JJ, serving as an Irish translator for the peelers after Liam is arrested, discovers his unique Irish lyrics in a notebook that, when put to music, creates something special. He soon convinces Liam and Naoise – who himself is dealing with familial fallout, including his republican paramilitary father Arlo (Michael Fassbender) who’s faked his death to evade the authorities – to start the hip-hop band that would come to be known as Kneecap, after the infamous Troubles-era torture method. Soon, however, their provocative act, which heavily promotes drug use and anti-social behaviour, attracts the attention of not just the peelers, but also local dissident groups such as the Radical Republicans Against Drugs which use fear and violence to maintain power.

Far from offering a more sanitised look at Northern Irish conflict such as in films like Kenneth Branagh’s Belfast or even the more recent Liam Neeson vehicle In the Land of Saints and Sinners, Kneecap doubles down on its irreverent energetic style that does not shy away from the brutality and mischief found in all pockets of post-Troubles Irish society. Scenes of extravagant cocaine and ketamine use, as well as graphic sex and petulant violence, are portrayed like something out of the likes of Trainspotting or La Haine, as Peppiatt combines the stylish flair and the resoundingly youthful anger of both films to form his own piece that, rather than simply replicating those approaches, goes in its own direction. It ends up being an experience that feels very lived-in, made by people who know far better than I or anyone else ever will about what it is to live in this divided corner of the world.

While the filmmaker embraces the postmodern punk spirit of Kneecap itself, he also frames it in a way that makes you truly empathetic for their frustrations with their current political environment. The film explores how British influence has all but transformed Northern Ireland into a police state, where the authorities often abuse their powers to stamp out any sense of independence, as well as any form of true Irish identity beyond the popular stereotypes known the world over. You see first-hand how that rule has translated into righteous anger among its native civilians, particularly our lead trio who each react to everyday disdain from pro-union authorities in different manners, but with no less hostility and fury towards societal norms.

Central to the film’s exploration of the suppression and reclamation of Irish pride is the use of the native language itself which Kneecap, both band and film, performs almost exclusively in (with regular English-language intervals). The ferocity of the band’s lyrics is amplified by how passionate it sounds in its native tongue, with the film going out of its way to show how they only truly work when in Irish, for they seem rather jumbled and unrhythmic when translated into English, which given the band’s heavy promotion of the language feels like exactly the point.

Even when there’s no music involved, scenes of characters conversing in the language carry a profound power to them, as Peppiatt and the three leads convey an infectious spirit that you are completely on board with. This is largely down to how they are written, directed, and especially performed as genuine characters with rounded arcs and likeable personality traits to compliment their band’s chaotic nature, and it is a testament to both the filmmaking and the performances that they never feel as though they’re simple one-note throughout. All three Kneecap members are genuinely excellent in this film, perfectly natural and without a hint of self-consciousness, and it’d be interesting to see if any of them do decide to continue their acting careers after this, because they’ve certainly got what it takes, even when they’re playing heightened versions of themselves.

As both a compelling and unconventional music biopic, and a fierce celebration of Irish identity, Kneecap is feckin’ awesome. But an even greater accomplishment is how, against all odds, it proves that musicians playing themselves in movies is, provided it’s executed accordingly, far from a cheap gimmick.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Kneecap is an enthralling and passionate celebration of Irish identity as well as a fierce rallying cry against the oppressive forces in power, not to mention it’s a hugely entertaining music biopic that gets some genuinely great performances from the leading musicians themselves, and provides some heartfelt and gleefully anarchic energy that should fuel your spirit long after they’ve left the stage.