Writer-director Kenneth Branagh tells a semi-autobiographical story. Young Jude Hill is playing in the street outside his row house, when suddenly Protestant gangsters march through and smash every Catholic household's windows, rip up the paving stones, and drive everyone, Catholic and Protestant alike to refuge. Soon the British Army is setting up occupation of the street, as the neighbors help each other, and Hill's immense extended family, presided over by grandfather Ciarán Hinds and grandmother Judi Dench seem to take everything in stride. But there's family problems as well as religious ones.
This movie reminded me of 2018's Roma, an important moment in history through the eyes of a boy filtered through the adult sensibilities of the film maker.... but without the extreme deep-focus camerawork that kept me wondering when we were going to start telling another story. Branagh gives us visual fireworks, with the attack on the street shown from young Hill's perspective, with a double-360-degrees panorama in slow motion.
In the end, the story is less about flashy camerawork or the religio-political uproar of the times, but how a loving, committed, decent family gets on with life, raising children, earning a living, and loving each other. Most stories about love are about the big events, the flashy events. This one shows us the day-to-day of love while everyone else is worrying about the big events.
