Belfast

There’s been a bit of movie-watching around here lately. Reason one: New movies are finally being released again, and at a steady clip. Reason two: I did the math and got an AMC Stubs A-1 Super Prime membership or whatever it’s called. .99 the first month, with a 2-month commitment at $20/month after that. So for $40 I can see all the films I want over the next few months in theaters – and I knew there would be a few – and (this is a plus) not restrict myself to discounted afternoon showings. I can be all fancy and head to an evening showing where tickets are going for (gulp) $20/per. Seriously.

So I’ll work backwards in time. Last night, College Guy and I went and saw Kenneth Branagh’s autobiographical Belfast.

It wasn’t a masterpiece, but it was compelling with mostly marvelous acting, especially from the child Jude Hill, playing the Branagh-as-a-child, Buddy, who is just wonderful and quite natural, and Ciarin Hinds – one of my favorites (he was Julius Caesar in Rome), who played the Branagh-as-a-child’s grandfather.

The plot is simple: it’s Branagh’s memories of being a child in Belfast during the Troubles as they exploded in 1969. The tensions involve, first, should the family stay in Belfast or move to England where the father is already has work.

Secondly, it’s about the complexities of identities and social identity. The Branagh – I’ll just call them that – family is Protestant (and we get a very juicy, over-the top Ian Paisley-ish Northern Irish Protestant sermon in the mix) but their neighborhood has its share of Catholics, whom the activists and terrorists are trying to drive out.

What does it mean to be Protestant or Catholic in this situation? How can you tell the difference? What does it matter?

(There’s an amusing conversation between Buddy and a cousin, in which she educates him on how you can tell just from names. Patrick – Catholic. William or Billy? Definitely Protestant.)

Belfast is a little dreamy, a little odd at points, and might prompt reflection on who we are, how we got that way, and what we do when it just might be time to move on – and what we take with us when we go.

It’s also about the way in which external events impact our personal lives, and how we experience that, especially as children. The terrorist acts on the neighborhood are yes, terrifying, and Buddy’s in the midst of it, but we also see the limits of his understanding and how easily he is swept up in those forces he doesn’t understand.

What makes us who we are? Our blood, our family, our culture, our religion, our neighborhood and the history we’re living in – even if we don’t understand it or are even aware of it. This is who we are. What do we make of all this as we move on, grow up and work to create a life?

I think Belfast is also about the impact of entertainment on the young Branagh. Going to the pictures is a huge treat, of course, and these, as well as the movies viewed on television, shape Buddy’s consciousness. We don’t have any magical realism going on here, but he’s clearly highlighting the impact of films like High Noon, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang on his young self. This is even clearer from the fact that almost all of the film is in black-and-white except for the opening establishing shots of Belfast in the present, and most of the shots of the entertainment Buddy is watching (unless it’s originally in black and white) – even when he goes to a stage performance of A Christmas Carol– what’s on stage is given to us in color.

I have to say, too – although I might be off on this – that the casting of Buddy’s parents, and the scene of them breaking loose at a wake – reflects this as well, at least to me. These two actors are movie-star attractive, quite distinct from every other actor in the film, and what happens at the wake edges to a movie-musical moment.

It’s almost as if Branagh is letting us know that yes, this is a memory. This is how we remember. Our memories are not objective. They’re filtered through so much – visceral sense memories of childhood trauma, nostalgia, regret and even the pop culture that surrounded us and our idolizing of our parents – which is then, in turn, also filtered through that cultural lens.

It’s so important to remember, Belfast reminds us, even as we know the limits of those same memories – patchwork, filtered and nostalgic as they are.