
If you want to see an enormous divide between mainstream audiences and those who cast a more critical eye over the contemporary film industry, simply mention the concept of the musical biopic. These films have always existed and been quite popular over time, but in recent years they have reached a fever pitch, primarily because studios recognize that audiences are more than enthused by the idea of spending an hour or two in a cinema singing along to the songs they love, regardless of the quality of the film that ties them all together. It’s lazy, uninspired filmmaking that is rarely all that good or worth our time. Yet, some directors have used the popularity of this genre as an entry point into doing more daring and unconventional work, as we see in the case of Kneecap, in which director Rich Peppiatt tells the story of the hip-hop trio of the same name, consisting of two rappers raised in Belfast in the years following the end of the Irish Civil War, and a slightly older schoolteacher who joined as their deejay and producer. You would be forgiven for not having come across Kneecap in the past, since they’re a slightly more niche group, and tend to be more known within local circles, specifically because their raison d’etre has been to preserve the Irish language, leading to the vast majority of their songs being performed in their native dialect, which immediately makes them fascinating subjects for a film recounting their formative years and eventual ascent to fame. Peppiatt was a strong choice to tell their story, as his previous work has mainly been in documentary filmmaking, but where his subjects are usually counter-culture musical acts who go against the grain and have strong intentions behind their work, and his understanding of Kneecap and their journey from obscurity to musical notoriety is evident in absolutely every frame of this delightful, daring musical comedy that takes many bold swings and manages to be charming and effective, while staying entirely true to itself and the values that the group at the centre have demonstrated over the years, and which they continue to exemplify.
Unlike many films that present themselves as outrageous comedies on the surface, but reveal themselves to have deeper meanings once we are well into their narratives, Kneecap makes its intentions clear from the start. This is a film about the titular group, where the band members portray themselves, and which centres around their efforts to preserve their native language. As the film shockingly states towards the end, an indigenous language goes extinct every 40 days, and while we are actively involved in the conservation of nature and the environment, preserving culture is just as important, and it usually begins with ensuring the languages spoken by certain groups are not eliminated as a result of the increase in other languages such as English becoming dominant within these communities. Linguistically, Kneecap is an absolute marvel – the group themselves have earned an abundance of credibility from the linguistic community based on their steadfast efforts to preserve their language, and this film is a fantastic cultural document that not only provides a glimpse into their formation but also their active efforts to keep the Irish language alive, which they do through writing songs that are both appealing to a wide audience (particularly younger listeners, as they’re the ones that the group is most insistent on target in the hopes that they will develop the same pride in their language) and filled with cultural references, each one being a small but meaningful piece of Irish traditions, contained within these delightful, profanity-laden diatribes that are both informative and entertaining. The urgency with which Peppiatt sets out to tell this story, working closely with the members of Kneecap to tell their story, indicates a very clear sense of admiration for their work, and the desire to capture the message embedded at the heart of their act, which is more than just superficial hip hop performances, but acts of defiance against both authority and the changing nature of the society that surrounds them and to which they feel both anger and despair, manifesting in these acts of artistic rebellion, captured brilliantly in this film.
However, Kneecap is not a film that places all of its effort on the ideas, but also makes sure that the execution is compelling and interesting, since the message would be lost had it been done more conventionally. Peppiatt is insistent on taking a more unorthodox route with this film, which proves to be the smartest possible decision, considering the extent to which the film will resonate with a wider audience through some of its directorial decisions. On a purely narrative level, the film is a by-the-numbers musical biopic, following a group of rambunctious young performers as they construct the now-successful group that gave them the acclaim and notoriety that they now proudly exhibit. The structure is simple, and everyone involved seems to agree that the nature of the story needs to be quite direct since it would otherwise cause the underlying themes to get lost in the shuffle. However, it’s the addition of several very unique components that make Kneecap so profoundly compelling and unconventional, starting from how the story is told. There seems to have been no alternative than to make this film a comedy, since the very existence of Kneecap (as serious as their reasons for starting this group may have been) is that they essentially use their craft as a way to blend lighthearted mischief with socio-political commentary, making bold statements on the state of their country and its changing culture through playful rebellion against the status quo. This film moves at a rapid pace, being filled with the kind of off-the-wall energy that reflects their live performances, and avoids too much heavy-handed emotion, even in the sub-plot centring around the protagonist’s relationship with his father, which could have very easily been the subject of overwrought sentimentality, but instead exists as a natural component of this story. Kneecap is a film built around the act of subversion, and every trope we would expect from this kind of story is challenged and reconfigured to represent the offbeat brilliance of the group and their musical style.
As a group, Kneecap has only been active since 2017, meaning that the members of the group are still relatively young and continue to perform. Rather than casting actors to play these parts (especially since they are not widely known as international personalities just yet), the director chooses to involve the group on both sides of the camera, enlisting them to play themselves in their own life story, which is a fascinating technique that has been done on occasion, but rarely as effectively as it is here. There are many benefits to this approach – primarily, it brings a sense of authenticity to the film since we have these individuals portraying themselves, and not requiring the director to work with actors who may not understand the extent of the story or what it represents, which immediately removes a barrier usually associated with musical biopics, which become less about the story and more about the impersonation. It also lends credence to the realism that defines the film – not only are the members of the group the best possible people to tell their own story, but the film that surrounds them is striving for a kind of genuine quality that simply cannot be replicated. Knowing that this is essentially a recreation of their rise to fame, told through a slightly more experimental style, gives the film a unique quality and makes it feel more personal. Never does it come across as merely a conventional biographical account of the past, but rather a daring and provocative musical odyssey in which these people are given the agency to tell their own story, as well as taking the artistic liberties that they perhaps were not able to implement into their own lives, which we can guess was not as wickedly entertaining as this film makes them out to be. It does help that Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh (Mo Chara), Naoise Ó Cairealláin (Móglaí Bap) and JJ Ó Dochartaigh (DJ Próvaí) are all very gifted performers, so much so that even in their acting debuts, they’re exceptional, delivering stellar performances that never feel trivial or like the director cast the real subjects as some misguided experiment. It’s a difficult approach, but one that is doing brilliantly, leading to an extraordinary and captivating set of performances that are both entertaining and profoundly moving.
Kneecap is a wonderful film, and one that delivers exactly what it promises, being an entertaining, outrageously funny account of the rise of a truly original musical group whose commitment to their culture is as admirable as their dedication to being truly unique artists. One doesn’t need to feel compelled to have known of their existence before this film, since the director provides a solid foundation on which their story can be built, exploring their origins in a manner that is enjoyable and informative, taking a few artistic liberties but generally being faithful to the spirit of the group and their artistic output, as well as their fascinating lives. The film is an energetic, offbeat examination of culture, as seen through the perspective of a group of young people who are fervent in their dedication to preserving their past, realizing the importance of language as not only a means of communication, but a way for their history to remain intact. There are moments of genuine compassion scattered in between the more eccentric sequences, which creates a film containing multiple layers, each one meaningful and beautiful in its unique way. Complex and engaging, while still being extremely captivating and never falling behind when it comes to the humour, Kneecap is a tremendous film, and one of the very best examinations of the importance of language as a tool to preserve culture, an essential act that has proven to be more urgent now than ever before, and which everyone involved in this film understands as being of utmost importance, particularly in ensuring that the past is not erased, but rather bolstered and celebrated.