"I think every revolutionary act is an act of love. Every song that I've written, it is because of my desire to use music as a way to empower and re-humanize people who are living in a dehumanizing setting. The song is in order to better the human condition." - Zack de la Rocha
While last summer was big-blockbuster mania, 2024 has swung the other way, shining light on more intimate, artistic storytelling. While franchise behemoths like Deadpool & Wolverine still loom large (it helps to have unlimited financial backing), a new wave of films like Sing Sing and Didi have been leaving a deep impression on audiences with their quiet but powerful storytelling. Among this lineup is Kneecap, an Irish film that tells the (mostly) true origin story of the real rap group. Set in Belfast in 2019, the film follows two best friends, Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh and Naoise Ó Cairealláin, whose hedonistic lifestyles in post-war Northern Ireland are fueled by drug use. During a police raid on a party, Liam gets apprehended and brought to the interrogation room, where he feigns ignorance of the English language. The authorities bring in JJ Ó Dochartaigh, an Irish language school together, to translate, but to their dismay, JJ and Liam form a covert alliance that unexpectedly extends beyond the confines of the interrogation room. After discovering their knack for writing Irish rap lyrics, JJ convinces Liam and Naoise to produce their songs. This leads to the formation of a trio who adopt the stage names Mo Chara, Móglaí Bap, and DJ Próvaí, as they breathe new life into the Irish language in a way that had never been done before.
The film has an authentic feel, an effect that director and writer Rich Peppiatt didn’t have to stretch far to achieve. For one thing, the musicians play themselves (is there anything they can’t do?!), a risky move that paid off a million times over. Not only did they bring the existing cohesion of the three members onto the silver screen, but their unique blend of charm, smartassery, and maturity informed both the writing and tone of the movie as well. While each of the members undergoes their own character arc in the film, the music also undergoes a distinct journey. Peppiatt skillfully breaks down the creative process, first revealing how DJ Próvaí provides the foundational techno beats and then how Móglaí Bap and Mo Chara layer in their clever and melodic lyrics. At some point in the film, DJ Próvaí is teaching a class when he overhears some of the students snickering in the back, listening to a leaked Kneecap recording. This is a pivotal point for him, as he realizes that the group’s unconventional approach may resonate with the younger generation in a way that traditional teaching methods have not.
Reflecting the group’s raw energy and explosive sound, the film’s craftsmanship is defined by fast editing, kinetic camera work, and sprinkles of animation that ultimately land well with the audience. My friend, Amy, perceptively noted that the movie is “shot like a music video” — a fitting description.
One of the most distinctive aspects of the movie is its very specific temporal setting. Unlike most life-spanning profiles like Elvis or Oppenheimer, Kneecap takes place in a remarkably recent and limited timeframe, chronicling the group’s formation and initial rise to local popularity in 2019. The timing of its release could not have been better, as the group undergoes a global tour to showcase their newest album, Fine Art. This is not an unearthed story from the past, but rather a glimpse into a live unfolding.
While the film’s execution is undoubtedly fantastic, the narrative structure does become somewhat convoluted at times. Each band member navigates their own personal conflicts, all while grappling with the collective challenges of the group. This web of individual storylines and sub-plots can occasionally feel overstuffed and difficult to track.
Additionally, certain moments — such as the inclusion of Michael Fassbender as Móglaí Bap’s father, Arlo — feel missplaced or unnecessary. While Arlo touches on important themes like the role of language in identity, it’s not entirely clear whether Fassbender’s presence significantly enhances the storytelling. I can understand the potential appeal of juxtaposing these rising rappers with an established Hollywood star, but the payoff doesn’t always land seamlessly.
After watching the movie during the opening weekend in the US, I immediately looked up the group on Spotify to see that they had around 230,000 monthly listeners. Today, just a couple of weeks later, that number is up to nearly 310,000. The cinematic spotlight has clearly ignited a loyal fanbase, giving a whole new audience the chance to follow the band members as they ascend to bigger stages. Overall, the film has done a formidable job of leaving the audience with something to chew on long after the initial watch.