Priest (1994)
In the coming months I hope to watch a number of Jimmy McGovern-penned films. This was the logical starting point since it's the earliest of his readily-available feature-length works. And by "readily-available", I mean I had to track down a DVD imported from the Netherlands since that's the only way this piece can be watched uncut (there is also a heavily-edited American DVD release, based on the bastardised version shown there which evidently
still upset many people... for all the wrong reasons).
Being aware of the film's premise and knowing Jimmy Mac's writing (primarily from
Brookside, where he's delivered some of its strongest material), I fully expected a film that had a lot to say without pulling its punches. On both counts I was right. What did surprise me (even though on reflection it shouldn't) was just how even-handed the film was in its own opinions. For each point of view expressed there is an opposing one. We see the best and worst of the church, and we see humanity at its ugliest and its most beautiful. And all of it feels honest so I felt no real sense of agenda, even though it's obvious where Jimmy Mac's rebellious heart ultimately lies. The criticisms might seem irreverent (or blasphemous, as knee-jerk, one-note reviews for the American market suggest), but they're also respectful, balanced and well-researched.
As the titular character, Linus Roache embodies the film's duality perfectly. He has a face of hope and innocence but behind those sad, angelic eyes he smoulders with a combination of anger at the injustice and hypocrisies with which he is daily faced and inner conflict over his torn loyalties and passions. Every once in a while he'll explode and let it out, raging at the powers that be, at himself, or at the naked figure of Christ. As the son of
Corrie's Ken Barlow, Linus had a particularly challenging mountain to climb, but - while I did find myself occasionally reflecting how much he sounds like his father - any novelty factor was overcome extremely quickly by the performance delivered which is incredible by any standards. The angst, the turmoil of emotions and the backdrop of Catholicism (always good for theatrics and drama) allows the performance to go bigger at times, but never jarringly so. I found myself wondering why he doesn't seem to have had a high profile career after this performance... then I looked at his profile and apparently he has, but I missed it.
There's also a terrific supporting cast of actors, a combination of well-known names and wonderful character actors. Tom Wilkinson is brilliant in this, with his character's showmanship towards his flock providing a nice contrast with the younger, more earnest priest. Their strained relationship and their challenging of each others' fixed beliefs is engrossing. We think we have him pinned at the start, but he's actually the film's most rational and compassionate component... as key to the film's message as anyone.
This was an early film for Robert Carlyle and shows he was bold and willing to invest in his characters right from the start. Paul Barber and Lesley Sharp complete the "soon-to-be-
Full-Monty" quartet (there may be more, for all I know).
A year before playing a sex worker in
Band Of Gold, Cathy Tyson is Maria: the housekeeper who will only tolerate so much judgement before she speaks out and lays the truth on the line. Following this moment, there's a terrifically brief exchange between the Father and Maria where an understanding is reached with minimal dialogue. It's one of the most efficient scenes I've ever seen.
With the Liverpool setting and this writer, it's perhaps unsurprising that there are some familiar faces late of
Brookside. Robert Pugh plays another messed-up, ill-motived antagonistic role. Here, as there, this isn't really about him but about the conflict his actions create for those around him. Here, as there, he convinces some but not others, is met with reason, compassion, furious anger and threats, and ultimately exits suddenly before the resonance really takes effect.
Brookie's Teresa can be seen as a melancholy mourner at a wake, looking as though she has the burdens of the world on her shoulders... just as she did when I watched her final
Brookside episodes a matter of weeks ago (implicitly referenced in an episode I watched after the film, in which Damon rode on the ferry and tried to impress a potential girlfriend with his wordiness by telling her he knew someone who'd killed herself by throwing herself from such a ferry). There's also Harry Cross as the world's oldest altar boy whose annoyance towards the actions condemned by others could be viewed as coming less from any moral religious ground and more from the fact that it means a loss of status for him.
Other familiar Liverpudlian faces included Aveline from
Bread as a close relative of the departed at the wake ("I hated the bastard" she confesses to the father, before receiving forgiveness in a beautifully shot scene with the light from the gathering inside casting a heavenly halo onto her hair from behind). A face I recognised but couldn't place turned out to be Tony Booth, who I most recently watched in
Till Death Us Do Part. Given his famously outspoken political views, his presence in
Priest makes perfect sense (and it's funny to think that three years after this, his real-life son-in-law would become British Prime Minister). Young Christine Tremarco gives a beautiful and soulful performance here, too. This is a film that is cast with care and perfection.
Another pleasant-surprise-that-really-shouldn't-have-been-surprising-to-me was the presence of Jimmy's wry, earthy humour. There's a vein of it that runs through the entire film and it's very welcome. Little touches that flesh things out and add interest. Much of it is to be found in witty lines: like the priests witnessing a woman in furious argument with her departing partner, repeatedly calling him "gobshite". At the end, one asks who the woman is, and the other replies "
Mrs Gobshite, presumably". Some of it is almost surreal: like the old housekeeper who serves up the meat for dinner wearing a "MEAT IS MURDER" apron and a face like a smacked arse; or the two men who invite the door-knocking priests into their home to talk before revealing they're Jehovah's Witnesses. Other times it's laugh out loud funny: such as the two priests drunkenly feigning loud sex noises to piss off another priest in the next room. The wit is not just restricted to English either. There's a scene where the Father makes an evidently offensive suggestion to a superior in Latin. The humour is one of several reasons why this film - despite some dark subject matter - didn't feel overly heavy (much less offensive, though I can see how some would find it so).
The final revelation for me was just how unexpectedly moving I found the film. I found myself tearful at times without truly being able to pinpoint exactly why. Then it pulled the emotional rug out from under me at the end and, again, it took me by surprise. I don't consider myself an easy target when it comes to writing toying with my emotions. This usually triggers irritation rather than tears. I think the reason this one got me was because it felt honestly reached. As I said, the writing was very truthful and matched by the performances. This goes a long way. I still don't know if my tears were of joy, sadness or something else... and I like that it's ill-defined and messy.
Ultimately, this isn't a film about any of the things that stoked whatever controversy it garnered. It's about love, hope and acceptance.
Anyway, it's a month too late for the Nineties Top Ten... but this one would comfortably have been in my Top Three.
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