Billy Casper (David Bradley) is a young man growing up in the rural suburbs of working-class England. Raised by a single mother, and bullied by his older brother, Billy has never quite fit in and has struggled to find the same sense of belonging his peers at his school seem to share. Seemingly experiencing an aimless childhood that will eventually just resort to him “going down pit” (meaning getting a menial job in the mines, something Billy is terribly frightened of), he is desperate to find some form of salvation that will give him a sense of purpose and prove that he has just as much value as the people around him. This comes in the form of a nest of kestrels he finds one day on the way home and adopts one of the babies. This begins his journey of training his new pet, which he names “Kes”, and who finally incites some passion in the teenager, who had previously been lost in a world that didn’t quite understand that he’s not like other children his age. Billy gains a new lease on life, finally becoming passionate about something, which helps him navigate the treacherous social situations that he often finds himself in – his cruel older brother who relishes in bringing Billy down to size, his hardworking mother who does her best to support their family despite their social and economic situation, and hoards of bullies and impatient teachers who fail to see that below his quiet, awkward exterior, there’s a kindhearted young man who is gradually finding his way in life, slowly overcoming the innumerable obstacles that stand in his way towards becoming a fully-functional adult – and it’s Kes who makes him realize that he is worth just as much as those who terrorize him, and perhaps even more.

Ken Loach is one of cinema’s most pivotal figures, particularly in terms of helping define a specific film movement, with his work (occurring alongside Tony Richardson and Lindsay Anderson on one side, and Mike Leigh and Alan Clarke on the other) essentially launching the kitchen-sink realism movement. Taking its cue from earlier realism, the stories that set out to represent life as it was, but removing the false hope and formulaic optimism that normally tended to underpin these stories, the films that Loach and his contemporaries made were raw, gritty explorations of the lengths of the human spirit, normally focusing on working-class or underprivileged individuals trying to make sense of a society that seems inherently against them. However, beneath the broadly bleak and downbeat, there are some flirtations with hope, as evident in Loach’s seminal masterpiece, Kes, an adaptation of Barry Hines’ exceptional A Kestrel for a Knave. One of the defining British films of the era, and the work that solidified Loach as one of the great cinematic storytellers (albeit one that would tend to be quite divisive for the rest of his career, based on his tendency to strictly tell this kind of story – some saw this as a strength, others perceived it as an inability to grow in style), and someone whose work always reflected a profound anger, but also an underlying hope, that creates a fascinating dynamic that comments on social issues in a way that feels natural and not contrived in any way. Kes is an incredible film – we can try and make sense of the qualities that incite such a visceral reaction in the viewer, but it all comes down to the brilliance with which Loach approaches the story, delivering a heartfelt, honest and achingly-beautiful tale of a boy finding his place in the world.

One of the most significant qualities of films by Loach, and by extent many of his thematic brethren, is that their stories are straightforward, and the concepts they explore are established relatively early on, making these films less about the ultimate destination of the plot, but rather the experience we gain on the journey there. In this regard, Kes is a film that falls well within the confines of the coming-of-age drama, being one of the sub-genre’s most essential entries and the film that helped define many future works that attempted to capture the childhood experience. Having a character like Billy Casper in the central role was one of the film’s many merits, as he is not a particularly talented boy in terms of skills or prowess in any specific film – he’s an ordinary young man attempting to just live out his childhood until he is old enough to start making his own way. The film focuses on the ambiguous but incredibly formative age between adolescence and young adulthood, where Billy has to momentarily put aside his juvenile desires and start thinking about the future, choosing a path and making sure to follow it. Loach ventures deep into the mind of his protagonist, portraying him as a well-mannered young man whose life is simply just a series of challenges that he has to overcome – and in doing this, the director is able to comment on many of the enormously difficult questions that we all have when growing up – more than asking questions on the future or any materialistic concept, Kes instead provokes themes of identity, with Billy feeling lost, not only because he has been born into relative poverty and has never known the same joyful luxuries as others, but also because he has never quite been able to figure out who he is exactly. This is precisely why the most touching moments of Kes come when Billy is unabashedly following his own passions, which he only realizes he has later in the film.

This theme truly is at the heart of the film, and Loach makes it very clear that this is the main direction this film will be taking, as it would naturally allow him to represent larger issues around the time through the innocent eyes of a child, one of the most common qualities of films like this, with unemployment, poverty and a fractured Britain still mending itself after the war, being pivotal, but not prominent, elements of the film. Like many coming-of-age films, Kes tends towards showing the bleak truth behind a young protagonist’s situation, and we normally find those who occupy the central role in stories like this tend to endure some form of suffering, whether it be poverty, social inequality or abuse in some way. Here, these themes are amalgamated into the downbeat life of Billy Casper, yet it never feels all that bleak. There is a reason why even those who find Loach’s work utterly miserable are willing to openly embrace this film – there’s an optimism pulsating throughout the film, perhaps not the kind that is normally considered to be massively triumphant, but rather more intimate in how it portrays Billy’s unconditional hope. Never one to fall victim to his afflictions, Billy constantly rises to the challenges he’s presented with, and while his life may not be particularly easy, its the smallest moments of positivity that help him get through it. Loach has often been accused of peddling films that exploit the working-class through constantly conveying their strife and never quite venturing out of these conventions. Even those who adore Loach tend to agree that his work, while powerful, is often too overwrought. Kes is not a film that proves to be the exception, but it still manages to be as upbeat as it could possibly be – through being structured as an episodic series of moments in the life of the protagonist, the film is able to make some profoundly moving statements that oscillate between cheerful and melancholy – and it all converges into a film that appears to be as authentic and brilliant as it possibly can.

In bringing this film to life, Loach introduces the world to David “Dai” Bradley, a young performer who commands the screen with his leading role in Kes. It isn’t very clear precisely why this is such a captivating performance – it could be the actor’s raw vulnerability coupled with his incredible expressivity, or the fact that Loach didn’t write the role with the same trite conventions that normally go into constructing child protagonists. Perhaps its the fact that Barry Hines’ incredible account of childhood rebellion was just too genuine for this character to not be anything less than endearing, and Bradley lives up to the standards set by some of the great child actor performances that came before him, and in turn influenced those that would come after. His work is transcendent – all notions of a child protagonist being either wise beyond their years or overly adorable are abandoned for the sake of something far more realistic and honest. Billy is ignorant and a scoundrel, always getting himself into trouble and deserving the punishment – yet, we can’t help but empathize with him, since we are privy to his personal life, with Loach going to great lengths to forge a meaningful relationship between the audience and Billy, with the intimacy of this film serving to give us fascinating insights, not only into the character’s life but also the general social milieu that he represents. The film revolves almost entirely around Bradley’s character, with some meaningful performances by Colin Welland (as the sympathetic English teacher who looks beyond Billy’s behaviour and finds some potential), Brian Glover (playing the most outrageously realistic soccer coach committed to film) and many others that weave through this film, making a considerable impact on this beautiful portrayal of working-class life.

Kes is a terrific film – Ken Loach has always been an incredible composer of beautifully moving stories about the human condition, crafting delicate, emotionally-resonant tales of life and its many seemingly-insurmountable challenges, which he does with such care and precision. He’s made many films, a great deal of them being astoundingly effective – but this could certainly be his crowning achievement. A mesmerizing coming-of-age story about a young boy attempting to make sense of a world that seems to be inherently against him – it’s a conventional narrative that Loach turns into something special, where the complexities reside in the quietest moments. Kes is a film that proves that saying very little can sometimes make the most resounding impact, and the film soars with a sincerity rarely glimpsed, especially not with this soulful portrayal of the formative years of a young man who represents the entire concept of youthful naivete and boundless optimism. It’s a beautifully-composed film that speaks directly to the heart, and burrows into the mind of every viewer lucky enough to encounter this gorgeous, earnest excursion into society, done from a truly compassionate, and ultimately incredibly melancholy, perspective. Kes is an unforgettable film, one I wish I had watched when I was younger, only for the sake of experiencing the film’s incredibly powerful message about overcoming challenges and knowing that there is always hope. This film is an achingly powerful endeavour that tends to be as rousing as it is heartbreaking – consider Loach’s brilliant subtlety and his dedication to the intricacies of the craft, and you have a truly unforgettable, and utterly incredible, piece of filmmaking that stays with you long after it has ended.