This Is England

A somewhat autobiographical picture about youth culture in the UK during the 80’s, writer/director Shane Meadows has crafted one of the finest cinematic examinations of skinhead culture captured on film in This is England. Based on his own early-teen initiation into a skinhead gang, the director’s memories are dead-on to the last detail, painting a gripping picture of the bleak period that authentically fills in the gaps usually left out of cinematic takes on the subject. Impressive first-hand detailing is complimented by wonderful performances from the entire cast, a mix of actors and non-professionals, to create a realistic, sometimes harrowing, and always compelling British production.

The opening credits are set to a brilliant montage of images that uniquely invoke the period - deployment of troops to the Falklands war, huddled masses of unemployed, decadent neon pop culture, desperate crime, and the looming face of Satan's bride, Margaret Thatcher. Bad times all around really, but particularly unfortunate for a young working-class boy who’s just lost his father to a bullshit war. 12-year-old Shaun (Thomas Turgoose) is the perfect vehicle for the desperation of his generation; alienated, confused, picked-on, and pissed. A target for bullies because of his diminutive stature and unfashionable clothes, the lad’s only real contribution to his situation is violent preemptive strikes at those who speak ill of his Dad.

After succumbing to the taunts of classmate and submitting to a good whipping from his headmaster, Shaun one day takes his leave of school in abject misery. As chance would have it he cuts through an underpass populated by an older skinhead gang, the leader of which, Woody (Joe Gilgun), invites the boy to take a load off and share his problems. I should note, as the term skinhead tends to automatically conjure the image of racist neo-nazis, that these are good skinheads; a raucous subculture of the working-class with their own fashion and music that, although often nationalistic, were not racist National Front chumps.

Woody’s gang are exactly what Shaun has been searching for; companionship, acceptance, and guidance from an older male. The film’s opening act does a fantastic job of taking us into the gang’s world through Shaun’s initiation. In the weekend they go hunting for nothing in particular through the abandoned slums, taking their frustrations out on the unowned furniture and fixings; they’re violent and destructive but not dangerous, out to have fun rather than hurt anyone. Eventually Shaun must submit to a makeover, baggy trousers and old shoes are traded for tight jeans and Doc’s, topped with a buttoned-up Fred Perry and braces - and of course the hair has to go.

Shaun ends up looking like a miniature version of the other boys, a kind of cute mascot for the gang, though his mother doesn’t find it quite so adorable. Mortified with her youngster’s militaristic new look she marches him down the road to confront those responsible. Struck, however, by the older group’s genuine apologies and respect, Shaun’s mother decides that this tight-knit group of friends might not be so bad for her outcast son after all. And so it goes that Shaun finds a group of loyal companions that will have his back and help him survive in the socio-economic sinkhole that was 1980’s England.

This bubble utpoia-within-hell is soon burst, however, when an absent member of the gang returns from prison. The much older, physically intimidating Combo (Stephen Graham) wastes no time asserting his dominance on the group, derailing a typical party of joints and reggae with racist tales of prison life, despite the presence of Afro-Caribbean gang member Milky (Andrew Shim). Under mixed duress of respect and fear, none of the younger members speak up against Combo’s offensive actions; it’s a painfully awkward scenario most can probably relate to that goes from bad to flat out madness. In a demented sort of apology for his rudeness towards Milky, Combo invites the crew to his place for a get together where he unleashes a Nationalist rant against immigrations, draws a line on the floor and declares from this point on the youngsters have to choose a side (although posing no threat to those who abandon his ‘cause’.)

Those more desperate and weak-willed give in to the hate speech along with little Shaun, who has found a more dominant father-figure in Combo than lovely but more submissive Woody. From this point things escalate in much the way we expect; a first-hand tour of the rising tide of anti-immigrant sentiment focused on the National Front’s gradual growth amongst the disenfranchised. There are rallies attended, minorities intimidated, immigrant-owned stores looted, all culminating in that inevitable step too far. While the plot is a little formulaic, Meadows instills such a sense of reality that it’s hard watching all the same; brutal and unrelenting, especially the intense climax.

First-time actor Thomas Turgoose is an absolute revelation as young Shaun, at first listless and longing, transformed into a happily accepted gang member and finally swept up by warping speeches of ignorant hate. In his early teens, the boy’s height makes him look younger still, yet his face - contorted by contradictory impulses - seems to hang in a haggard, world-wary fashion to bizarrely unsettling effect. He is backed by a supremely capable cast, some of who have worked with the director before (Graham, Shim) and clearly have a very agreeable creative relationship.

As Meadow’s first period piece the film couldn’t succeed more. It’s production design recalls the era down to the smallest detail, from the skinhead’s room plastered with 2-Tone flyers and The Harder they Come poster to the crudely spray-painted political discourse of the slums; “Maggie is a cunt.” The soundtrack is a treasure, too, the perfect mix of Ska, punk, and pop hits of the time; kicking off with Toots and the Maytals’  ‘54-46 Was My Number’ for the opening credits, the film never puts a foot wrong matching it’s scenes up to perfect accompanying tracks.

After nine features dissecting the nature of England, Meadows has finally found a smooth and shocking voice to speak with; This is England is undoubtedly his finest film yet. At once an examination of gang culture and it’s allure to youth, a caustic reminder of the economic catastrophe of the 80’s, a loving tribute to what little good was managed to be etched out in the decade, and a timely suggestion that, despite appearances, things might not be so different in this day and age - rampant poverty, unjust wars, violent streets, neglected youth - 25 years doesn’t seem like such an awfully long time.

9 / 10