It would be blatantly untrue to say that this conversation coming on this particular day was not intentional, or that it was merely a coincidence that we chose to revisit this film at this specific moment. Now more than ever we see discourse surrounding identity and the importance of showing humanity in the face of adversity than ever before, with the LGBTQIA+ community once again being under fire from those who preach conservative values, but fail to follow through when it comes to their supposed promise of respecting and loving their neighbours. Few films have been more open in their intentions to examine the plight of the queer community than Pride, in which director Matthew Warchus (marking his return to film after spending over a decade in the theatre) tells the story of the 1984 miner’s strike in the United Kingdom, in which those protesting against the unfair political stance of the wildly controversial Prime Minister at the time was intercepted by a group of LGBTQIA+ activists, who saw correlations between their own struggles for acceptance and basic human rights, and as a result worked laboriously to support the miners, despite initial hesitance from the National Union of Mineworkers to accept donations from a group that initially was not viewed as being compatible with their working-class values. They were immediately dismissed until their tenacity caused these hostilities to erode, eventually leading to one of the most unexpected but compelling demonstrations of solidarity in the history of protests, which ultimately led to this beautiful and touching film. Pride is one of the most important works produced on the subject of queer identity and the importance of community values, but there is so much more embedded right at the heart of this film, which is a profoundly moving examination of not only identity, but community as a whole, and therefore is not solely about the groups depicted in the story, but the entirety of humanity and the compassion that emerges in times of crisis, using this wonderful and heartwarming story as the foundation for many of its most engaging conversations, all of which are carefully sewn together in this remarkable film.

There may be some sense of hubris in giving this particular film the title of Pride, because such frank and straightforward titles usually imply that the filmmakers believe this to be the definitive text on a specific subject, which can be controversial when dealing with a subject that is as broad as the gay rights movement, which has a storied history too broad for us to ever condense into a single work in any holistic manner. However, once we see exactly how this film is approaching the story, the more appropriate it becomes when we realize how the pride implied by the title has many different meanings. Ultimately, this film is about two groups from wildly different backgrounds fighting with all their might to exist in a world where they are not viewed as being worth the same basic rights as others, and in the process they develop a fierce sense of pride for their community, to the point where they are willing to risk everything to fight for a cause that means something to them. From a distance, the idea of gay activists and working-class miners coming together to fight for a common cause seems too far-fetched to be realistic, but when we see how this film breaks it down and develops on its fundamental ideas, we find that there are more similarities than we initially expected. It is certainly not entirely an abstract concept that drives this film, and we often find the most touching moments come in the quieter interactions, where these characters reflect on their own lives and choices, struggling to feel that sense of pride that they ferociously advocate in public spaces. Perhaps a more descriptive title may seem appropriate in terms of the specific themes being explored, but none of them are quite as meaningful (as well as clever, since the multiple meanings of the term are integrated into the story, even the more negative perception of pride as being a cardinal sin), and which beautifully reflects the simple but evocative ideas that propel this film forward and make it such a wonderfully meaningful excursion right into the heart of the human condition.

There is very little about Pride that one can describe as being conventional or traditional, at least in terms of the kind of story it is telling. It is objectively a historical drama, with the events that are depicted being drawn from reality (with the anticipated amount of slightly fictional components that make it more cinematic), and focused on mostly real people, with a few composite characters that help streamline the story and keep it concise, since history is very rarely as linear as these films would suggest. However, outside of the surface-level premise, Pride is a film that relishes in its ability to be unique, and while it is quite straightforward in the story being told, it never feels as if it is relying too heavily on cliche to explore this subject, which is a very important component in elevating this film above similarly-themed films to which it is often compared. Something that Warchus (as well as screenwriter Stephen Beresford, whose retelling of these events is extraordinary), it isn’t always about the historical significance, but also the human factor that makes these stories so deeply compelling. At every opportunity it is given, Pride manages to find new ways to tell this story, expanding on certain themes that a more traditional film would ignore, or just outright contradicting our expectations in terms of tone or how the story is delivered. It should be noted that the film is made along well-defined lines of how to make such a story, but it somehow manages to avoid the same trite conventions that would make it predictable – we know for a fact this story would have a happy ending (or at least as close to it as possible, both groups depicted have continued to fight for their rights right up to the present moment), but the journey to get there is so compelling and filled with surprises, it’s not difficult to view this as a much more complex examination of the past than it seems to be on the surface.

In a medium that is often focused on starring roles, we often forget the immense power of a great ensemble, and the brilliance that can come with a well-cast film. In the case of Pride, the most significant impact made by this film is the sense of community – in much the same way the figures in the historical events proposed, the sense of a group of people from different backgrounds coming together for a common cause adds depth and nuance, and makes for a far more compelling film. There isn’t any standout in Pride, with the entire cast being incredible. There are about a dozen major characters peppered throughout the film, and absolutely every one of them gets a moment in which they can make an impact on the story, and rather than constantly gravitating towards one or two figures as being more significant than others (which is inevitable, and comes in the form of Mark Ashton, whose status as the founder of Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners positioned him as a very important character in this story, and Ben Schnetzer is incredible in the role), the filmmaker highlights a much broader range of characters. Whether we are spending time with characters played by Joseph Gilgun, Faye Marsay, Andrew Scott, Dominic West and George MacKay (the latter being the closest the film has to an audience surrogate) as the cosmopolitan members of LGSM, or those portrayed by Imelda Staunton, Bill Nighy, Paddy Considine, Jessica Gunning and Menna Trussler as the open-minded working-class folk who form a strong relationship with these empathetic visitors, there is something of value in every one of these performances, and just as we think we have found the best character in the story, another one is either introduced, or we see a different side of one that we thought was just fading into the background. It is one of the best ensembles we have seen in recent years, both in terms of the technical aspects of their performances, and the deep sense of empathy they each bring to these roles, helping anchor Pride in a way that is absolutely incredible and deeply moving.

By the time we reach the concluding moments of Pride, we have undergone quite a journey, both historically and emotionally. The film may only tell a single story set over the course of two years (and one that is decidedly smaller than most notable protests in the past), but yet the manner in which it explores the subject is done with such care and precision, it seems far more compelling than we would initially expect, which is the sign of thorough dedication from everyone involved. This film understands one of the cardinal rules of biographical and historical storytelling – it isn’t always the big moments that matter, but also the smaller details, which often tend to be the most touching on an emotional level. The tone of the film reflects its incredible skillfulness at navigating these themes – perfectly calibrated between comedy and drama, the film demonstrates an equal share of humour and pathos, never settling on one for too long, as well as never neglecting to punctuate the story with a moment of pure entertainment, which helps soften the more serious subject matter, which is never trivialized but rather viewed in a way that doesn’t feel heavy-handed or unnecessarily convoluted. Pride has a firm control of its emotions, which are brought to the surface whenever necessary, but in a way that feels authentic. It is sometimes challenging to see a film of this nature, since it is far easier to follow that same predictable pattern of overwrought emotions, but the choice to instead focus on the more intimate moments makes the film feel all the more compelling, as well as deeply complex on a personal level. As we see throughout Pride, it is more than enough for a film to simply observe the human condition as it, looks into the daily lives of these people as they fight for their rights, and that sometimes the most meaningful moments are those that don’t result in grand revelations, but rather a brief but loving acknowledgement of the human being situated by your side. These are the components that Warchus focuses on the most, and in the process develops a beautiful and heartwarming comedy that keeps us engaged from its very first moments.

Pride is not only a heartfelt and meaningful comedy crafted by a group of dedicated artists fully committed to this stunning material, but also a remarkable statement on the tenacity of the human condition, and the importance of solidarity, especially the kind that is found in the most unexpected of places. It is not a surprise that the film makes notable use of the rallying cry in “Solidarity Forever” (Pete Seeger’s version being quite prominent in the opening scenes), since the claim that “the union makes us strong” takes on a deeper meaning when we see just how powerful a cause can become when differences are put aside, and the realization is made that we are all fighting our own battles, some of which may be very similar if we ignore the specific details and realize that every one of us has human rights that should not be the subject of tampering or manipulation, and that the most impactful change can only come when we are united under a common cause, even if it is just to advocate for equality and fair treatment, regardless of one’s identity or background. Pride is a film that challenges us to become part of the solution – the problems this film addresses are not entirely resolved, and it would have been foolish for all involved to claim that this small victory signalled the end of discrimination and bigotry, since it is only one small battle that was won, and even by those parameters, it isn’t even something that easily can be described through the binary of winners and losers. As a result, this film motivates us to look within our own communities and see what changes we can make – we all have the capacity to be activists in our own way, and whether we march in protests, hold those in power to their supposed promises, or simply make changes in our everyday perceptions, change can only come when we are working towards a common cause. Perhaps this goes beyond the scope of this film, but as we see throughout this story, true pride is being able to know that you made a difference in some way, and there seem to be fewer more appropriate suggestions than using this film as inspiration to change the world in our own small, significant way.