Written by Andreas Babiolakis

You never know what you may get with TIFF’s Peoples Choice Award winners: a film as poetic as Nomadland, as divided as Jojo Rabbit, or as painfully safe in a crowd-pleasing way like Green Book. These are just the three most recent winners, and you can already see quite an array of qualities and tones. There’s also the only certainty with this award winner, and you can spot this qualification instantly: the Peoples Choice Award winner at TIFF goes on to be nominated for Best Picture at the Academy Awards almost every time (in fact, two of the above films are actual Best Picture winners). And so this means that the Best Picture race has already begun, for this year’s winner is Kenneth Branagh’s latest directorial piece Belfast. As I am commonly a naysayer of his works (outside of his Shakespeare features, I find him as heavy-handed as an infant donning anvils for gloves), I was quite apprehensive when this won, knowing what may be in store for me: a potential Green Book part deux. Instead, I can honestly say that Belfast — whilst still beyond safe and calm in tone for a film of its nature — is some of Branagh’s finest filmmaking in years. He only sparingly uses sugar in this concoction here; it may be enough to still overly sweeten some key moments, but his heart is at least in the right place this time around.

We get snapshots of Branagh’s youth from the titular city in what is meant to feel like a memoir at times, and instantly his vision is felt: we get a brightly coloured look at Belfast today, only to peer over the top of a wall and get hit with the stunning black-and-white photography that will guide us for the rest of this feature. Haris Zambarloukos’s cinematography is some of the best of the year, especially because he knows when to provide us a postcard of yesteryear, and when to manipulate lighting (both natural and artificial) and shadows to get the best results. This photography and immersion within a filmmaker’s youth can only remind me of Alfonso Cuarón’s Roma (oddly enough not the only time I’ve referenced this epic this week), and so it can be tough to not compare the two films: how deeply does Branagh dive into what it feels like to be in Northern Ireland during the start of The Troubles (a thirty-year war between different civilians of the area, but shown here as a war between Catholics and Protestants)? The answer: not very deep, but just deep enough. Frightening sequences of war and rebellion pop in and out, but they resolve quickly enough for you to move onto the next thing (typically a lighter scene so Branagh can highlight what he loved from his childhood as well), so you are often experiencing what he misses as opposed to why he was forced to leave (although we get just enough of the latter to understand why).

*Belfast* is consistent enough with its stronger elements that it can overcome its occasional safeness.

Some of the most connective moments are when young Buddy (the main character) is at the cinema or the theatre, and the brief uses of colour are brought back, clearly representing the imprint these art forms had on Branagh as a child (and the moments that took him out of the nightmares that surrounded him, even if temporary). Otherwise, Branagh has saved the strongest moments and lines for the veteran performers, and they truly shine as the loved ones in Buddy’s life. This includes Ciarán Hinds as Buddy’s grandpa, and Judi Dench — with one of her best performances in years, even at nearly ninety years old and years after her initial desire to retire — as a very moving grandmother. They are caught in the middle of a tug-of-war in Buddy’s life: the need to move from Northern Ireland for a multitude of reasons. Meanwhile, Buddy is figuring life out, he’s falling in love, and he’s realizing his passions; all of these discoveries get seemingly destroyed by the perils around him. The film is dedicated to the people who hung around in his birthplace and managed to get out of The Troubles without leaving, especially because his heart is still there. This is why even the most heavy moments are pulled back enough as to not cross any lines. Branagh cannot bring himself to step on the place he once called home. Why should he have to? Even though it results in tamer sequences (and we don’t feel the absolute weight of what he felt), we feel nothing but his adoration throughout Belfast, and that sits rather well with me, considering that the film is a brisk hour-and-a-half love letter to a homeland that could use the warmth.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.