(MA15+) 113 minutes<\/strong><\/p>\n
Anyone who wants to understand the causes of right-wing populism need look no further than Ken Loach\u2019s new film, The Old Oak<\/em>.<\/p>\n It\u2019s about the sense of grievance which can fester in a community once it\u2019s lost its reason for being.<\/p>\n Dave Turner and Ebla Mari as T.J. and Yara in The Old Oak.<\/span><\/p>\n Loach, who\u2019s 87, says that it\u2019s probably his last film. If so, he\u2019s going out on a high. After all these years, he hasn\u2019t lost his touch. He converts reality into fiction with his usual accuracy and care, stripping down the facts yet somehow doubling their impact with the sense of intimacy that enriches all his films. His actors are so convincing that they could well have stepped off the street and into the frame. He may make you cry but that\u2019s not because his brand of social realism is depressing. He still has hope.<\/p>\n Admittedly, there\u2019s not much on show in the opening scenes of this film. A group of Syrian refugee families are being delivered to their new homes in a village near Durham in the UK\u2019s north-east and things are not going well.<\/p>\n Once part of a thriving coal-mining region, the village is in decline. Shops have closed, property values have tumbled and some vociferous locals have gathered to express their resentment at the refugees\u2019 arrival.<\/p>\n T.J. tries to fix the sign on his pub. It\u2019s not exactly a subtle metaphor for the precarious nature of his fortunes but it does the job.<\/span><\/p>\n One of the few friendly faces belongs to T.J. Ballantyne (Dave Turner), owner of The Old Oak, the village\u2019s only pub, which is barely surviving. When the film opens, T.J. is trying in vain to straighten the wobbly \u201ck\u201d in the sign on the wall. It\u2019s not exactly a subtle metaphor for the precarious nature of his fortunes but it does the job.<\/p>\n Inside the Oak, a few of the regulars sit airing their complaints about the state of the neighbourhood, fixing on the refugees as a symptom of all that\u2019s gone wrong for them. During this diatribe, which is getting uglier by the moment, T.J. says nothing. He doesn\u2019t need to. His worries and disappointments are etched into the lines and folds shaping a face which would once have been open and guileless. These are his patrons. He\u2019s known them all his life, they help to keep The Old Oak going and he\u2019s not in the mood to engage them in a row.<\/p>\n But his conscience thinks otherwise and the kindness he shows to Yara (Ebla Mari), a young Syrian refugee and her family blossoms into a friendship which eventually prompts him to break his silence. His courage costs him. He faces a couple of devastating blows before things begin to look up for him and the Syrian families but Loach\u2019s faith in the human capacity for empathy prevails in the end. Best of all, he brings off this optimistic flourish without the taint of sentimentality. He\u2019s not trying to tell us that the village has miraculously cleansed itself of bigotry. He\u2019s too much the realist for that. Nonetheless, it\u2019s an immensely moving film.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n