23.9.23
With the UK government’s recent meagre statement on benefits, I felt it a timely moment to revisit Ken Loach’s Palme d’Or winning I, Daniel Blake (which I admit to rewatching last month in all honesty!). An unflinching drama following a middle-aged carpenter struggling against a heartless welfare system doesn’t sound like a fun night at the pictures, and while the film’s tone strikes as relentlessly bleak, its emphatic performances and an authentic sense of place in working-class Newcastle make for a provocative viewing experience.
In his first film role, comedian Dave Johns brings a kind yet unyielding presence to the role of Daniel. From the opening sequence, where he good-naturedly conflicts with a clueless healthcare assessor off-camera, Johns radiates a relatable everyman quality. With his thick Geordie accent and propensity for gallows humour when faced with endless bureaucratic impasses, Daniel gives voice to any of us who’s battled indifference from faceless, unsympathetic members of government or its infuriating institutions.
Among the numerous well-observed scenes of quiet desperation in I, Daniel Blake, Katy’s visit to a food bank stands out in its emotional precision. Brilliantly played by Hayley Squires, Katy swallows her pride to feed her children, and Squires’ delicate acting and Loach’s judicious direction deliver a portrait of human dignity ground down by the system. Her moment of despair, hidden behind the food bank’s cluttered shelves is one of the saddest moments I’ve seen in any film, aided by the technical components of the scene’s framing, timing, and orchestration combining perfectly to create something unforgettable and heartbreaking.
The film depicts a stark contrast between the cold and callous nature of the government and its job centre system, against the warmth, humour and sense of community among the people of Newcastle. Loach has consistently demonstrated his commitment to representing the vulnerable and forgotten members of society, and his latest film The Old Oak is no exception. Also, in his retrospective classics and reward-winners Kes and The Wind That Shakes the Barley, Loach consistently demonstrates his ability to use cinema as a tool for working-class commentary. I, Daniel Blake is probably his masterwork; a powerful indictment of the UK’s neoliberal capitalist system, which offers a reminder of the struggles faced by the contemporary working man. The film is deeply depressing, but it is also extremely important, as it sheds light on the critically inhumane treatment of those on the margins by no fault of their own.