Kneecap Review: Irish Hip-Hop Trio’s Fiercely Riotous Belfast Romp

The Irish-language hip-hop trio Kneecap from Belfast stirred quite a reaction from the DUP in 2019. This happened when, just a day after Prince William and Kate’s royal visit to the city’s Empire Music Hall, they performed a gig there, energetically yelling “Brits out.” Since their emergence from the Irish language movement in the North, Kneecap has been a fiery force, reshaping the political essence of hip-hop and advocating for republican and Irish culture, challenging a complacent consensus.

Now, they’re featuring as versions of themselves in a hyperactive, somewhat Guy Ritchie-style biopic. Directed by Rich Peppiatt, who also created their last video, the film doesn’t shy away from stereotypes. It zeroes in on a pivotal moment of realization: the discovery that an Irish-language speaker, when questioned by the police, can demand an Irish-language translator. This fundamentally changes the dynamics during police interrogations and potentially alters the relationship with law enforcement and the state.

The trio—Mo Chara, Móglaí Bap, and DJ Próvai—are portrayed as two guys discovered by a third, a music teacher. The film introduces a fictional lost dad, an IRA man played by Michael Fassbender. This character supposedly faked his own death and now lives under an assumed identity, teaching yoga and surfing to hippy tourists. As one band member wryly notes, it’s a journey from Bobby Sands to Bobby Sandals. However, considering Fassbender’s previous role as Bobby Sands in Steve McQueen’s 2008 film Hunger, seeing him in this light feels somewhat anticlimactic, reminiscent of Marlon Brando in The Freshman, mimicking Don Corleone.

The band, in their chaotic and uproarious style, defy ideological purity. One member engages in a covert relationship with a woman from a unionist background—their differences adding a peculiar twist to their romance. They are also involved in drugs, with the film alleging that anti-drug republican hardliners are nothing but bullies and hypocrites. As for the origin of their drug supplies, the movie humorously suggests they magically arrive from the dark web. In reality, it’s likely a much more analogue process, but this is, after all, not a documentary.

The film springs to life during the actual hip-hop scenes. The musical sequences brim with originality, comedy, and freedom. However, outside these moments, the film bears an unsettling resemblance to late 90s-early 00s cool Britannia geezer-gangster flicks. One can’t help but wonder if the film might have succeeded more as a full-blown sung-through hip-hop musical, given how compelling the music sequences are. Either way, it serves as a reminder that in Belfast, music remains—quoting Stiff Little Fingers—a suspect device.

Kneecap hits cinemas from 23 August.

Source: The Guardian