The Old Oak is supposedly Loach’s swansong, though – as a profound admirer of the British giant – one ardently hopes not. However, if that’s indeed the case, there couldn’t be a more fitting way for this impassioned chronicler of dreams, defiance and despairs of the working-class to bid adieu, than with this rallying cry of solidarity and resistance, wrapped in radical compassion and empathy. The concluding chapter in his gritty trilogy set in northeastern England – preceded by the magnificent I, Daniel Blake and the grim Sorry We Missed You – this fiercely topical work called to attention the systematic breakdown of a once-thriving mining town through governmental apathy and neoliberal policies, along with the bigotry, derision and xenophobic otherization faced by Syrian refugees forced to leave their war-ravaged country. A pub, the most British of institutes, served as the battleground for these seething, intermeshed topics. The titular tavern – its better days long gone and frequented only by few old-timers – and one of the town’s final public spaces, is run by TJ Ballantyne (Dave Turner), a lonely, weather-beaten man. He develops a deep bond with Yara (Ebla Mari), a young Syrian woman passionate about photography, and recalling – with a mix of fondness and melancholy – the 1984 miners’ strike where people broke bread together, they, along with a committed local organizer (Claire Rodgerson), start a community kitchen for the immigrants and impoverished locals. Discords inevitably get stoked amongst those who view the new inhabitants with extreme prejudice. Delicately counterpointing tenderness with anger and hope with disillusionment – evoked through authentic experiences of the non-professional actors – it provided a rousing distillation of Loach’s political activism through cinema, and his longstanding partnership with screenwriter Paul Laverty.
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