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Review: The Wind That Shakes the Barley
iF Magazine
16 March 2007
By Abbie Bernstein
Now that there’s finally relative peace in Ireland—the still British-aligned North and the Republic in the South—it’s probably at least marginally easier for viewers familiar with the subject to watch The Wind That Shakes the Barley. The film takes place in Ireland in the early 1920s, when a lot of Irish individuals formed guerilla groups in an attempt to drive out English soldiers and English rule. As presumably most viewers know—even those whose knowledge of this period is mostly formed by Neil Jordan’s film Michael Collins, or just looking at a world map—a treaty was made and the Republic of Ireland was formed in the South, with the North still part of Britain. Michael Collins dealt with the people forming policy—The Wind That Shakes the Barley looks at the Everymen (and women) involved in the fight, many of whom were apparently quite startled to discover as events progressed that being on the same side didn’t necessarily mean everyone was fighting for the same things.
When we meet Damien (Cillian Murphy), he’s heading out of his small Irish town for a medical career in London, despite the pleadings of his older brother Teddy (Padraig [sic] Delaney), who is in the early stages of fomenting local revolution. When a neighbor is killed by soldiers for a mild, non-violent act of defiance, Damien changes his mind and throws in with Teddy’s group. The problems are many, starting with the fact that almost nobody involved has any military training. Then there are the seeds of divisive issues—some simply want to get the English out, long-term results be damned, whereas others, Damien among them, believe that if socialism isn’t instituted, all that will change will be "the accents of the landlords."
It should be noted that, to put it mildly, the depiction of British armed forces is not nuanced—presumably there were variations in viewpoints, just as there is an enormous range of opinion among the Irish rebels, but we never see any English soldiers with qualms about enforcing violent policies against civilians. This is arguably a significant flaw in a film that aims to put a human face on a great spectrum of behavior otherwise.
However, director Ken Loach and writer Paul Laverty do a pretty masterful job of showing an extraordinary mural of belief and tactics, actions and consequences, among Damien and Teddy’s circle. Loach reportedly encouraged the actors to improvise and Laverty has an excellent ear for a certain kind of earnestness. There are several scenes where the group is trying to determine its goals that will be incredibly lifelike to anyone who has ever been involved with a non-profit organization—the fact that the agenda up for discussion includes killing people just enhances the blackly comic universal nature of the meetings (admit it, there were always a couple people in your group who would have endorsed lethal tactics if they thought they could). There is also a growing sense of terrible human tragedy, of what happens when ideals genuinely clash, that is not mere lip service but at the heart of what it means to have both personal loyalty and profound conviction. A lot of films try to make this work—Loach and Laverty, by couching the drama in easily comprehensible human terms, make it palpable, coherent, and deeply saddening.
Murphy provides both lucid thought and haunting feeling as Damien, whose sense of cause grows even as he deplores some of the actions he must take.
Delaney as the more pragmatic Teddy displays great emotional range as well, and Liam Cunningham, as the fervent socialist who becomes Damien’s compatriot, has quiet firmness. Orla Fitzgerald as Damien’s lover conveys both fire and common sense.
The Wind That Shakes the Barley is a film that immerses the viewer. You may agree or emphatically disagree with the tactics of the characters in the circumstances we see, but as a document of why large numbers of people acted as they did at a certain point in history, what they were feeling and thinking, it’s an illuminating chronicle of hearts and minds.
