Art has the ability to bring profound change, even if it is solely through the channel of provoking thought, which usually lead to spirited discussions about a range of vitally important issues. Patrick McCabe’s Breakfast on Pluto tells the story of a young transgender woman growing up during an era of extreme social and political unrest in her native Ireland, and who sets out to London, otherwise known as “the biggest city in the world” according to her working-class rural upbringing, to find the mother that abandoned her when she was a baby. It’s a simple story, but one that is layered with an abundance of meaning, questioning issues around identity and sexuality in a format that is blisteringly funny and extremely heartbreaking, often in tandem. The novel was the source of a remarkable adaptation by Neil Jordan, who has spent a considerable amount of his career telling profoundly Irish stories, becoming one of the most genuinely interesting filmmakers when it comes to exploring the culture of his home country, which has been captured in a variety of ways throughout the years. Breakfast on Pluto is one of the most genuinely heartwrenching films of the past few decades, a hard-hitting social satire that dives deep into the psychological state of someone who struggles to find her way through the world, but will do anything to achieve her goals, even if they’re as impossible as they would appear. Tenacity and willingness to surrender to the unknown are complex themes present throughout this film, which explores a world that we all know, but which is rendered almost unrecognizable when filtered through the eyes of a young person who has never quite found a place where she belongs, and will stop at nothing until she does, even if it means getting herself in a range of precarious situations.

“Why fit in when you were born to stand out?” – it’s a trite adage that has been claimed by anyone who considers themselves to be against the mainstream. It’s almost a comforting thought to those who don’t fit into the idealistic version of either masculinity or femininity envisioned by the majority that there are entire communities of people who have defined themselves as perhaps the exact opposite of what is expected of them. This is a good place to start when looking at Breakfast on Pluto, a film seemingly built on the virtue of uniqueness. Patrick “Kitten” Braden is a true original, someone who doesn’t only refuse to fit into the preconceived standards of masculinity, she is willing to dismantle expectations entirely. The film takes the form of 35 distinct chapters in her life, and we accompany Kitten on this voyage of self-discovery that takes her from rural Ireland to the hustle and bustle of London, and we watch her navigate the various challenges she encounters along the way, as well as the different interactions she has with a range of individuals who are just as flummoxed by this gender-bending revolutionary’s existence as we are – and yet, much like every character in the film, we find it extremely difficult to not adore Kitten, whose rambunctious nature and constant desire to push boundaries make her a true hero of the rebellion against the status quo, something that is primary to the modern queer cinema movement, which is built on the foundation of questioning standards and changing mentalities, not through polite requests, but forceful entry into the viewer’s minds – and despite not being the definitive film on the subject, Breakfast on Pluto manages to stir up the conversation that result in such necessary changes.

Jordan had an enormous task ahead of him when it came to adapting McCabe’s novel, since so much of it requires retention of the same beautifully multilayered complexity, while handling the material with a concise sensitivity, one that grappled the line between social satire and insightful character study. It’s certainly not the first time the director has engaged with such themes, with his masterpieces Mona Lisa and The Crying Game touching on very similar themes, the latter in particular being of note, since it addresses the intersectionality between queerness and socio-cultural unease at a time when such stories were not only rarely successful, but not made particularly often in the first place. Yet, they come to fruition the best in Breakfast on Pluto, specifically in how Jordan’s very sincere approach to the material makes this one of the more sensitive explorations of these issues. The source material was complex enough to make for a decent film, but it’s the special flourishes that occur when it took the treacherous journey from the page to the screen that really allow this film to make an impact. There’s a certain level of charm that keeps us engaged and enchanted throughout, with Breakfast on Pluto being a work clearly made by someone who understands that one can easily be educated while being entertained, and vice versa, so something like this film is always going to resonate in ways that would suggest a deeper meaning is present in every scene, all of which ultimately build-up to the hauntingly beautiful conclusion. Keeping the structure as a series of distinct chapters helps give the film a clear direction forward, and prevents Jordan from relying too heavily on one concept, since there is an entire life to be told through this film, which he does with a kind of poise and undeniable elegance that is admirable and entirely unforgettable when it is told with such sincere heartfulness and respect for the subject matter.

On the subject of elegance, it’s difficult to find a performance as deeply sensitive and sophisticated as Cillian Murphy, who has the unenviable task of playing the part of Kitten from her adolescent years to her early adulthood. This is undeniably not an easy role – unlike many mainstream films have suggested, playing a gender-bending character is far more than just sporting a different appearance or changing the pitch of one’s voice. Instead, it’s a series of small details that come through both physically, mainly in how the character looks and sounds, and psychologically, with the role depending almost entirely on how well the actor carries themselves when playing the character. Kitten is a complex role, but Murphy has proven himself as an actor many times before, so it only seemed logical that he’d be able to occupy the mind of this gamine rouge, who sets off on a picaresque journey to find her mother, encountering a number of challenges along the way. Murphy is an absolute revelation – he grounds the film and adds wit and nuance where it was most necessary, and very importantly never goes for the low-hanging fruit, instead choosing to style this character less on stereotypes, and more on the earnest observations he made while researching the role. McCabe’s creation was already a multilayered and varied individual, so Murphy had most of his work done for him in terms of defining the character – yet, he still puts in the work, delivering an absolutely stellar performance that is one of the most touching of the era. The supporting cast is filled to the brim with talent, most of the actors only have limited time on screen, as they occupy fleeting moments in the main character’s life. Liam Neeson and Ruth Negga play the most considerable supporting roles, while Stephen Rea (whose longtime partnership with the director brought out some magnificent work in them both) and Brendan Gleeson prove themselves to be amongst the most reliable of character actors, having small but incredibly effective roles. Breakfast on Pluto works well mainly because of the actors, who take on these characters and redefine them as their own, leading to a magnificent and layered exploration of a number of complex themes.

Despite being produced less than two decades ago, this film was made in a cinematic landscape that had (and unfortunately still has) a very myopic view of queer issues when we look at the general output, so any film, whether mainstream or arthouse, is going to be of value, at least in terms of starting the conversations. Breakfast on Pluto stands as one of the very best in this regard, being a well-composed and beautifully intricate character study that places its central issues right at the forefront, and allows the ambigious spaces to be filled in by irreverent humour and charming peripheral elements that made for such a beautifully complex tapestry of the queer experience. Jordan’s gifts as a versatile director are not normally acknowledged, especially when it seems like he’s drawing from the same bag of tricks – but it’s the small details that make this radically different from anything else he did before or since. He’s working with tricky material here – it’s difficult to make a film with this subject matter that doesn’t feel like it is exploiting the trauma of the main character, especially one whose eccentricities can be mistaken for erratic, drugged-out behaviour, which did not help soothe the puzzling nerves of those opposed to the “lifestyle” depicted in this film. Yet, approaching it with caution and sensitivity ultimately led Breakfast on Pluto to be a much better film than it would appear in terms of how it addresses queer issues. Obviously, a more nuanced film would’ve been done with the involvement of queer artists themselves, since their perspective is not only invaluable, it is also essential. However, there isn’t any doubt that Jordan was doing good work regardless, telling this story with heart and humour, which ultimately made the biggest difference.

Breakfast on Pluto is an absolutely charming film, and further proof that the most simple stories are those that tend to be the most effective. Every scene in this film is essential, as they contribute to this varied and captivating portrait of a young transgender woman trying to find her way through the world, facing adversity at every turn, but refusing to give up, since the potential to live life as her true self trumps any disdain she receives from those that surround her. This ultimately makes a substantial difference, since the film gradually puts her in increasingly difficult situations, from which she almost uniformly manages to triumph, even if she faces some very hostile consequences for the simple action of being herself, which is seen as an act of rebellion against conventions, and quite rightly so. Kitten’s body may become battered and broken over time, but her spirit persists, and she remains as strong and willful to achieve her goals as she was at the beginning – and if this isn’t an inspiring story of overcoming the most insurmountable challenges, then absolutely nothing else is. It’s beautifully poetic and always well-crafted, leading to an effortlessly charming film that blends comedy and drama in a way that was seemingly unprecedented, using each intricate detail as fuel for a grand exploration of identity in a rapidly changing world. In short, Breakfast on Pluto is a masterful voyage into the heart of someone whose fierce refusal to give in to conventions made her a counterculture hero, and despite being fictional, I think we can all take a lesson or two from the story of Patrick “Kitten” Braden, and her continuous and relentless search to prove that the grass truly is greener on the other side, should someone be willing to hang around long enough to find out.