More than any other filmmaker in history, Ken Loach was a compassionate man. Compassion comes from the Latin word compati, which means “to suffer with” or “to suffer together” (passus gives us passion as in “the Passion of Christ”). Certainly his films showed much suffering but also they showed how much strength and unity can come out of people’s decision to share their pain rather than retreat into separate silos of misery. Therefore it is fitting that his last movie should be called The Old Oak – this film could almost serve as an epitaph for a career spent exploring such themes.
The Old Oak marks the final part of what has been dubbed the ‘Northeastern Trilogy’ between Loach and writer Paul Laverty (with whom he has collaborated for over thirty years), following on from Palme d’Or-winning I, Daniel Blake and the somewhat underappreciated Sorry We Missed You. All three films together paint a damning picture of post-Thatcherite economics in Britain; however The Old Oak is most concerned with those towns that were once thriving due to steel and coal mining industries but have now fallen into ruin as these businesses have collapsed. This has led to property prices plummeting so far that the government saw fit to send refugees there: needless to say, this only breeds further enmity among already embittered locals.
Set in 2016 when England received its first official wave of Syrian refugees, the film follows both hostile reactions towards them and cautious kindnesses extended by some members of host communities. Certain characters will only regress into racist tropes and hate ‘the outsiders,’ as they are instructed to do by politicians; others who open up their hearts find purpose again after many decades without unions or labour rights, happiness even — but most importantly solidarity. It is a great movie; furthermore it serves as an excellent swan song for Ken Loach’s career since at 87 he does not believe he will make another one, and if that turns out to be true then what an epitaph this was.
Yara and TJ serve as the heart of The Old Oak, two deeply wounded individuals searching for a way to heal their neighborhood. However, the rest of the town and refugees are not left behind either; they have been given considerable attention which creates a complex setting where you can understand why people act the way they do even if it seems disgusting. Some people are just pure bigots while others have been hurt so much that they think if someone wears hijab their life will be hijacked too – you know how it goes; hurt people hurt other people. But there are also some really sweet and lovely folks kicking around here too or else this movie would sink under its own weight.
It is an incredibly political movie without ever getting didactic or preachy about anything being right or wrong. Yes, there are righteous monologues but those are always done well by Paul Laverty and Loach’s casts so complaining about them would be like moaning over speeches at a strike or rally. Ken Loach makes protest cinema and subtlety can sometimes fail in our era – he wants everyone to know what’s happening in small cities across the world (whether English, Syrian or American) and that we’re pissed off too, but he doesn’t shove ideology down your throat all the way.
What we’re left with is a small yet uplifting film about how politicians won’t ever do shit compared to these little acts of solidarity. They’ll turn us against each other. They’ll buy out property in our towns then sell it back to us cheaply later on. They’ll starve strikers while giving scabs minimum wage jobs with benefits for life. They’ll forget us when we don’t have votes or money enough to matter anymore.They’ll treat us like doormats so they can step inside their mansions.
That’s the kind of anger The Old Oak provokes but it also brings tears to your eyes and empathy into your heart. When you see a group of completely different people from different parts of the world come together to try and establish a meal hall for all working class people, you realize how powerful solidarity can be when it crosses race or culture. The new Syrian refugees are reminded of this by old photographs with slogans on them hidden away at the back of the pub – “they shall not starve” one sign reads while another says “when you eat together, you stick together”.
It’s through moments like these that Ken Loach gives us some hope still towards end his career even though The Old Oak is indeed a very sad film. This is epitomized by Yara’s character with her camera; her father gave it to her before she left war torn Syria whilst he was dying in jail there. “I saw a lot of things I wish I hadn’t seen,” she tells TJ, “I don’t have words for them. But when I look through this camera, I choose to see some hope and some strength. So I choose how I live with this camera.” And that’s Ken Loach’s confession —
