The origins of the hip-hop group Kneecap are hilariously and powerfully brought to the silver screen in this remarkable Sundance hit from Ireland.
Most musical biopics in recent years don’t even bother to have a sociopolitical message at the heart of their production; often relying on telling their subject’s life story from the traditional beginning of their musical careers to their tragic end, sometimes to blatantly offensive means (eg. Back To Black). Enter Kneecap, a biopic from Ireland that tackles an issue not yet explored through cinema during this tumultuous era of politics until now, and serves up a wildly entertaining story that celebrates the subgenre of hip-hop as a universal language of rebellion.
Loosely based on the origins of the titular rap group, Kneecap follows the trio just before their initial start in the music business, and even stars each member as a fictional version of themselves. Liam Og Ó hAnnaidh (aka Mo Chara) and Naoise Ó Cairealláin (aka Moglai Bap) are drug peddlers in the Belfast slums who also jot down Irish poetry to channel their frustrations with Northern Ireland’s current political landscape, with a ban on the indigenous Irish language proposed by the British in power on track to pass, robbing the meager citizenry who still use the vocabulary in everyday conversation to demonstrate their freedom of speech.
Enter JJ Ó Dochartaigh (aka DJ Próvaí), a high school bandleader who one night is summoned into the police station by a hard-nosed peeler (Irish slang for officer) wanting a translator to assist with interrogating Liam on an unnecessary public nuisance charge because the hoodlum refuses to answer questions in English, instead resorting to his native Gaelic tongue. While on the case, JJ flips through Liam’s book of Gaelic poems in amazement, and after another chance encounter brings them together, he implores Liam and Naoise to take their anger off paper and bring it to life through music. From there, the hip-hop group Kneecap is born, and the Irish trio is quick to sweep the nation’s youth with their empowering sounds to the ire of local politicians, news media and radical groups whose threats grow in violence with every show.
The themes of resistance against oppression and taking a stand for cultural preservation constantly proliferate the screen from the start all the way to the end of Kneecap, starting with the visuals. A clever use of Belfast’s murals honoring revolutionaries from the past like Frederick Douglass and Ireland’s own Bobby Sands, as well as the green stylized lighting inside the pub in which Kneecap puts on their concerts not only sets a vibrant stage for this origin story, but also makes the city of Belfast its own character, presenting it as a defiant town that’s prevailed through decades of civil unrest with remarkable strength.
On the topic of characters, the script of Kneecap also does a stellar job of crafting compelling arcs for all three of its leads. Naoise resents his IRA rebel father Arlo (Michael Fassbender, in rare authentic form, Irish accent and all) for faking his death and abandoning him and his mother in order to fight against the British imperialists from afar, but Arlo wants him to take up his cause and use the Irish language more; JJ yearns to help his girlfriend fight for the cause of keeping the Irish vernacular alive, while Liam navigates a rowdy relationship with his British girlfriend Georgia while avoiding her particularly assertive aunt with whom she lives.
Kneecap also does a remarkable job of celebrating music as the sound of insurgence through motion graphics that translate lyrics of Kneecap’s songs from Irish to English for all to follow while their music’s aurally pleasing beats drive the energy of a given scene. These motion graphics are also brought up to build both dramatic tension as well as emphasize comedic punches. An example of the former comes when a peeler spells out ‘HOOD’ to describe Naoise to his face in a tense act of interrogation, while the latter arrives during an intimate but hilarious moment between Georgia and Liam just before they reach post coitus.
As powerful as Kneecap is with its thematic pursuits and rebellious tone, some of the dramatic tension is unevenly executed, such as an instance where the sinister Radical Republicans Against Drugs ambushes a memorial, but they look more stupid than intimidating despite the handheld photography that grounds the instance in edgy realism. What’s also worth noting is that the film falters a bit in its direction; Kneecap collaborator Rich Peppiatt is at the helm here, and while Kneecap is very stylish and a breezy watch, there are several instances of tonal whiplash that don’t let the movie breathe for a beat before the film progresses from a comedic beat to a dramatic.
But Kneecap is still an uproariously funny and ultimately powerful music biopic that celebrates the art form as a ubiquitous language of revolution. Audiences will laugh at all of the trio’s drug-fueled antics, bop their heads to the sounds of their music, and be encouraged into taking up the cause for which they’re most passionate, and long to discover their homeland’s indigenous language and take it up for themselves. It’s an inspiring film in a myriad of ways, and that’s why audiences of all nations and music fans alike should check out Kneecap.