Director Ken Loach’s compassion remains a sturdy, reliable virtue in ‘The Old Oak’

Robert Abele April 12, 2024 Its tempting to want When it comes to the

fiercely political British director Ken Loachs

last

latest film, The Old Oak,

you want it to be sold with

a bit of classic Hollywood promotional

languageheft

comes to mind:

Ken Loach

ISis

“The Old Oak.” Because

for-

seemingly

–

forever, the sturdiest, tallest figure in the cinema of working-class struggle has been

Loach,

the man behind such raw, forthright classics as

Cathy Come Home,

Kes, Riff-Raff, The Wind That Shakes the Barley, I, Daniel Blake and Sorry We Missed You.

If this is the final round for the 8

7

-year-old filmmaker, hes going out with a protest sign in one hand

,

and a pint in the other. Thats because The Old Oak

,

written by longtime collaborator Paul Laverty and named for the last remaining pub in a downtrodden town in northeast England,

shows Loach no less committed to the cause but also as faith-filled as hes ever been

that togetherness can get us to a better, more celebratory world

.

Its 2016 when we enter the story via black-and-white photographs of a busload of displaced Syrians,

mostly mothers, children

,

and the elderly

,–

being dropped off in the mining town of Durham, the

audio over the pictures film’s audio

dominated by

gathering

locals loudly

,

and bigotedly condemning their arrival. When the film itself starts (and cinematographer Robbie Ryans clean naturalism takes over), we learn that the refugee documenting everything is a young woman named Yara (Ebla Mari), whose first interaction is with a brutish

young

man who violently grabs her camera and

drops breaks

it

, breaking it, and briefly, through her tears, her

.

One of the aid helpers appalled at his townsfolks behavior is divorced, middle-aged pub owner TJ (an affecting Dave Turner), a lonely man with a good heart and a lot of hurt. He offers to help get Yaras camera repaired

,

and the unlikely pair strike up a friendship borne of mutual empathy for each others pain

:

her homeland and family brutalized by war

, ;

his once-thriving community battered by economic neglect and a poisoning fear. The latter is routinely manifested in the churlish Old Oak regulars for whom nostalgia-fueled resentment is no longer a condition to be changed but a disturbingly snug set of clothes; they

, and who

view TJs kindness toward Yara

, and (

or anybodys charity toward the Syrians

),

as a betrayal.

But on the walls of the threadbare pubs long-shuttered back

room is photographic evidence a reminder to TJ, an inspiring history for Yara of the countrys 1984 miners strike, when an embattled people looked out for

each

one another. Soon enough, TJ is spearheading a revitalization of the room so two struggling worlds can meet: communal

, donated

dinners to feed both the refugees and a deprived towns isolated youth. As things play out, however, Loach and Laverty are realistic enough in their tale of invigorating compassion to grasp that

,

as difficult as it is to find and nurture hope, just as essential is recognizing the danger lurking in festering grievance.

As vitally angry as Loachs films can often be about the issues theyre addressing, the secret glue to his unvarnished, in-the-moment style has always been what camaraderie and care look

s

like within any maelstrom of injustice and oppression. The authenticity of his casting, including his unwavering belief in newcomers, is flawless here, with

Turners bearish, wounded air and

Maris portrait of resilience sharing the frame wonderfully

with Turners bearish, wounded air.

And in a key role as a pub

goer regular

, Trevor Fox makes palpable the injury and distrust that can warp

an honest

reaction to a strangers struggles.

Loach is the rare movie agitator who can point to results

i . I

n 1966, his television film Cathy Come Home rattled the U.K. into acting on homelessness. We may be too inured these days to the unceasing drumbeat of immigrations realities and disinformation to expect The Old Oak, as deeply emotional as it is, to have a similar

ly issue-specific

impact. But we can still feel thankful for this beautifully indignant directors career-long, never-wavering theme of solidarity,

—

of seeing others problems as ours

,

too, worth striking about

,

and fighting against

, or giving toward

. Its

anchored

a righteous oeuvre with marvelously strong roots.