Kneecap: A thrilling celebration of language and identity
Review Overview
Language
8Identity
8Energy
8David Farnor | On 16, Nov 2024
Director: Rich Peppiatt
Cast: Liam Ó Hannaidh, Naoise Ó Cairealláin, JJ Ó Dochartaigh
Certificate: 18
“A country without a language is only half a nation,” declares Caitlin, partway through Kneecap. She’s a campaigner for the Irish Language Act, which would see Irish legally recognised as an official language in Northern Ireland. The campaign is helped and hindered by the rise of the eponymous rap group, Kneecap. Caitlin argues passionately and respectfully in English and Irish. Kneecap shout and swear almost exclusively in Irish language. And then some.
The tension between the two is right at the heart of this remarkable music biopic, which doesn’t just chart the (fictionalised) origins of the hip-hop trio, but digs into the way that simply using a language makes it live and breathe. We meet Liam and Naoise (both playing themselves) as they rant about how Belfast is always portrayed through the lens of the Troubles – and their playful introduction sets in motion a relentless reframing and retelling of both their nation’s story and their own. When Liam is arrested one night, he refuses to speak to the police in English – and so they bring in JJ (also playing himself), a local music teacher, to translate. JJ helps Liam get released, but also borrows Liam’s notebook, which is filled with song lyrics. It’s not long before he becomes the third member of what will eventually be known as Kneecap, giving their vibrant, rude and raucous words a pulse to go with their rhythm.
All three members have their own dilemma of identity to wrestle with. Liam finds himself in a relationship with Georgia, a Protestant, and the pair are simultaneously excited and alarmed at how their contrasting opposites both do and don’t matter. Naoise is living with the legacy of his Republican paramilitary dad, Arlo (Michael Fassbender), who faked his death to avoid being caught – an act that he views as heroic, but that doesn’t account for him leaving Naoise’s mum, Dolores, to get by on her own. JJ, meanwhile, is a long-term relationship with Caitlin, and can’t bring himself to admit his affiliation with Kneecap, as their drug-taking, politically charged behaviour and music undermine the seriousness of her campaign.
The cast are all fantastic, playing their parts with commitment and conviction – perpetually swinging between pain and uncertainty and confidence and creativity, often embodying all of them at once. Their individual arcs are beautifully observed tales of reclaiming and understanding one’s present, past and future, winding their family and emotional loyalty seamlessly with their passion for their cultural heritage and legacy.
Director Rich Peppiatt – who has previously helmed a music video for the group – leaps into his feature debut with a rambunctious energy that’s utterly infectious. He matches the group’s reckless innovation, throwing lyrics and scribbles up on the screen like a very adult cousin of Son of Rambow or The Mitchells vs the Machines. The result barrels along with an electric charge that’s positively thrilling, sparking a rebellion that’s rooted in the knowledge that – as Arlo puts it – “every word of Irish spoken is a bullet fired for Irish freedom”. What a giddy, unique gem this is.