Who would have thought Kenneth Branagh had this much sentimentality in him?
A semi-autobiographical tale of growing up with chaos just around the corner, Belfast is certainly the most personal thing he has ever done, and that ring of authenticity pulses underneath every moment of its surprisingly fleet running time. But then it goes and reminds you it's a Kenneth Branagh film, and for as much as he tries to rein in his tendencies, he can't help but be himself.
I'm honestly unsure how to critique this, because it's such a confused and even contradictory thing. Does depicting the era through the eyes of a child who can't grasp just how momentous the things happening around him are excuse how superficially the heavier themes are tackled, if at all? Does the warmth and naturalism of the performances (Ciarán Hinds in particular) paper over how little we ultimately come to know some of the main characters? Does the fickleness of a child's memory explain why the plot flows so erratically, with so many musical montages that seem to lead nowhere? I don't know the answer to any of these. I do know that Branagh's penchant for long takes and artful cinematography means he can't get out of his own way at times, but that's a given this far into his career. It feels like Ireland's version of To Kill a Mockingbird, but with little understanding of why that is among the definitive statements of its point in history. And yet there's that authenticity, always lurking.
Well, if Branagh the showman can't quite meet Branagh the sentimentalist halfway, I suppose that's the best we can ask for.
A semi-autobiographical tale of growing up with chaos just around the corner, Belfast is certainly the most personal thing he has ever done, and that ring of authenticity pulses underneath every moment of its surprisingly fleet running time. But then it goes and reminds you it's a Kenneth Branagh film, and for as much as he tries to rein in his tendencies, he can't help but be himself.
I'm honestly unsure how to critique this, because it's such a confused and even contradictory thing. Does depicting the era through the eyes of a child who can't grasp just how momentous the things happening around him are excuse how superficially the heavier themes are tackled, if at all? Does the warmth and naturalism of the performances (Ciarán Hinds in particular) paper over how little we ultimately come to know some of the main characters? Does the fickleness of a child's memory explain why the plot flows so erratically, with so many musical montages that seem to lead nowhere? I don't know the answer to any of these. I do know that Branagh's penchant for long takes and artful cinematography means he can't get out of his own way at times, but that's a given this far into his career. It feels like Ireland's version of To Kill a Mockingbird, but with little understanding of why that is among the definitive statements of its point in history. And yet there's that authenticity, always lurking.
Well, if Branagh the showman can't quite meet Branagh the sentimentalist halfway, I suppose that's the best we can ask for.