The Irish language was nearly stomped out of existence. Speaking in Irish is seen by many as a political act. Kneecap was formed in 2018 amidst the controversial “discourse” surrounding Sinn Féin’s proposed Irish Language Act. The Irish Language Act would legally place Irish on the same level as English, which would include garda interrogation rooms and the courts. The “Óró Sé do bheatha abhaile” scene is a snarky representation of the various strands of dialogue at play around the Irish language. A language needs to grow in order to live; it needs to be present in the Now. A traditional song from a century ago has no relevance to the 21st-century kids singing it. But a trio of angry men screaming

C.E.A.R.T.A 
Is cuma liomsa foc faoi aon gharda, 
Duidín lásta, tá mise ró-ghasta, 
Ní fheicfidh tú mise i mo sheasamh ró-fhada

is another thing entirely.

(Translation: 
R.I.G.H.T. 
I don’t give a f*ck about any Garda A lit joint,
I’m too fast, 
You won’t see me standing too long.)

Now that’s a living language. 

Unsurprisingly, Kneecap’s music caused a wave of controversy, mostly because of their gleeful detailing of their drug use, but also because of exposing their asses with “BRITS” on one butt cheek and “OUT” on the other. A newscaster tut-tuts: “This is the true face of the Irish language.” The Irish language advocates did not consider Kneecap good ambassadors for the language and, in fact, were hurting the cause. Meanwhile, Kneecap was playing sold-out shows, where hundreds of kids were screaming lyrics in Irish. Shouldn’t the Irish language people welcome this development? Of course, they don’t!

One film can’t explain all of the complexities around the Irish language and its history, but “Kneecap” does a remarkable job laying it all out (while also making it fun). The film’s style is frenetic and propulsive, profane and provocative, peppered with jokey asides, stylistic flourishes (slow-mo, animation), and pulled along by a snarky voiceover (reminiscent of Ewan McGregor’s voiceover in “Trainspotting”). The film is unabashed in its portrayal of drug use and the realities of life in West Belfast among the generation nicknamed “the Ceasefire Babies.” (Journalist Lyra McKee wrote a remarkable article for The Atlantic in 2016 called Suicide Among the Ceasefire Babies, saying, “We were the Good Friday Agreement generation, spared from the horrors of war. But still, the aftereffects of those horrors seemed to follow us.” Tragically, infuriatingly, McKee was right. In 2019, she was murdered at a protest in Derry.)