It’s not often an audience breaks into spontaneous applause after the screening of a film, but they did for ‘Belfast’. I saw this picture on a brisk Saturday afternoon and, as the closing credits began, a cheer erupted; for some, a standing ovation.
That’s rare. And in this case, it’s deserved.
‘Belfast’ is writer/director Kenneth Branagh’s love letter to his homeland. Drawing on his own upbringing in Northern Ireland, the filmmaker takes the innocent, wide-eyed perspective of a nine-year-old lad to unfold a tale set against the backdrop of a tumultuous, violent time.
Now, this certainly isn’t the first time a particularly ugly chapter in world history has been told from the viewpoint of a sweet human story to somewhat soften the blow; but ‘Belfast’ is different. Here, you feel the weight of Ireland’s horrific clashes of 1969 as much as your heart fills with sincere sentimentality, watching a family trying desperately to shake off both internal friction and the hell happening outside their door in an effort to remain close knit. Their reality is grim, but their hope for a better day is nothing short of uplifting.
In his feature film debut, wee Jude Hill darn near carries ‘Belfast’ on his tiny shoulders. The kid is funny, he has dramatic chops….it’s honestly one of the most impressive child actor performances in decades. Jamie Dornan plays his Pa, who is forced to regularly head to England to make ends meet, much to the growing resentment of Ma (Caitriona Balfe), left at home to act as protector. Luckily, Granny (Judi Dench) and Pop (Ciaran Hinds), overly wise and equally as warm, are on hand to act as rocks for Hill’s character.
Branagh doesn’t waste a word or a shot in ‘Belfast’, by far his most personal work and, not surprisingly, his best. This really is the kind of movie we need right now; after all, when the world has seemingly gone made and gets increasingly angry, it’s not so bad to look the stars for optimism.