Kneecap: ‘A Celtic flag-waving bazooka of a film’

Liam and Naoise are best friends spending their time dealing drugs, taking drugs and making music

“Every word of Irish spoken is a bullet fired for Irish freedom,” declares Michael Fassbender in Rich Peppiat’s Kneecap. If that’s true, then this is one Celtic flag-waving bazooka of a film.

We’re following the (mostly) true story of Liam, Naoise and DJ Próvai, the trio behind Irish-language rap group Kneecap. Liam and Naoise are childhood best friends now in their 20s spending their time dealing drugs, taking drugs and making music. When Liam refuses to speak English during a police interrogation, music teacher J Ó Dochartaigh is drafted in to translate and from there blossoms an artistic collaboration that goes on to help shape Northern Irish politics and identity.

On the outskirts of the story is Arlo (a reliably quirky Fassbender), Naoise’s dad and a former IRA member who faked his death to evade jail time. Not so much a character as a symbol, Arlo represents the old-fashioned, sectarian mentality; the ‘them-or-us’ philosophy that has defined most cinematic interpretations of the Troubles.

Everyone – from the most radical of republicans to the most authoritarian of loyalists – is out to get them

On the other side we have Detective Ellis, an Ulster Loyalist intent on imprisoning Liam and Naoise, as well as Arlo who she suspects is not actually dead. To add further spanners to the works, republican group Radical Republicans Against Drugs (RRAD) are out quash the ketamine-loving trio, while campaigners for the Irish Language Act (led by DJ Próvai’s partner Caitlin) are also frustrated at Kneecap’s not-so-shiny reputation undermining their cause.

In short, seemingly everyone – from the most radical of republicans to the most authoritarian of loyalists – is out to get them. The film is in equal parts a showcase of the indigenous language and a portrait of the lives of ‘Ceasefire babies’ whose lines of division are far more blurred than the generation before them.

That isn’t to say that the film is politically balanced – the lads in the film and in real life are proudly republican: “Tocfaidh ár lá [our day will come], get the Brits out!” they exclaim in the film’s main track H.O.O.D. 

The balance lies instead in tolerance, exemplified by Liam and his new Protestant girlfriend Georgia who gets off on political slogans (“Fenian cunt!” and “No surrender!” are merely two examples of the dirty talk in play). This is clearly a generation who are far enough removed to make light of their history and are able to (largely) brush aside their differences. Some may argue these jokes are too close to the line, but comedy has consistently been the way for communities to reflect upon – and move on from – traumatic experiences that had otherwise been unspeakable. It is inevitably going to offend some.

It in fact seems that it’s in being destined to offend various groups in Northern Ireland (and notably in real life, Kemi Badenoch) that Kneecap are able to be so brazen and electrifying in their music, their opinions and their message. Yes, they're dealing with serious political and emotional themes, but they do so in a way that’s refreshing and cheeky, yet also sincere. It’s properly exciting filmmaking. I only hope that we put as much effort into preserving indigenous languages as we do in preserving the cult status that this film and band deserves.

As for the wine pairing, we’re mixing Irish flair with Britain’s long-time rival country. We’re in language-loving France with the Nouveau MMXXIII, a beaujolais-style red from esteemed Irish winemaker Killian Horan. It’s unfined and unfiltered, much like our protagonists. Expect notes of red berries, cherries and violets and serve chilled with Stobhach (Irish stew) made with lamb and plenty of thyme. Slainte.

Kneecap is in cinemas. Nouveau MMXXIII (€30) is available from Blackrock Cellar.