Belfast: I don’t get it
For the first time in our 34-year marriage, I was in complete disagreement with my wife as we came out of a picture house.
Belfast left me cold. That was a surprise. Travelling through Northern Ireland four years ago, we’d seen and felt how deep feelings ran. Twenty years into an armistice, the bleeding had stopped but the wounds had not healed.
If you spent five minutes with any adult, they would tell you heart-rending personal stories. Everywhere we were reminded how ordinary folk were the main victims of the conflict.
Watching the movie, I wondered why Kenneth Branagh — who infuses life into everything he touches, either as actor or director — failed to move me with his tale of growing up during the Troubles.
I did not believe in characters who all looked like cardboard villains/heroes: the loyalist thug v the tolerant father; and oh, those small disagreements that underscore how deep love runs within couples, young and old!
The wooden nature of the dialogue was reinforced by Branagh’s decision to go for Cinecittà-style dubbing rather than natural sound. And a warning: you must like Van Morrison a lot to sit comfortably through this film.
The lack of a sense of historical tragedy was also a problem. True, events were seen through the eyes of a young boy, but I would have expected a passing mention of what the fighting’s all about.
Most British viewers do know that two communities share a small territory: one yearns for union with the Irish Republic, while the other is bent on remaining within the United Kingdom. Foreign viewers, however, could have done with a reminder of what was going on.
The only explanation provided had the eschatological abstraction of wars of religion — adding to the unreal feel of the film. I get nationalist fervour; I can’t relate to differences over confession and predestination.
My wife was taken aback by my reaction. For her, Belfast had worked its magic. Of course the characters were not real: that was deliberate. Branagh had used old cinema techniques — black-and-white photography, excerpts from popular films of the day — to get at a deeper truth.
- Hah, I snorted, Brechtian Verfremdungseffekt!
How is it that someone who does not like a piece of art always puts those who do on the defensive? Why should my wife have to explain her persistence in finding Belfast deeply affecting? Hers is very much the majority view.
I’m writing this to record not just my opinion, but the fanciful weight one often attaches to it. I can do with a bit of distancing effect after all.
