Thursday, July 03, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

Film: Scots on the rocks

Sweet Sixteen is another poignant wee piece of social realism from Ken Loach

By Jeannette Catsoulis

The irony that drips from the title of Ken Loach's latest rap on the knuckles of capitalism is, like the British filmmaker's best work (My Name Is Joe, Raining Stones), not entirely without humor. But if you're at all familiar with Loach's contempt for the social failures of our era, you'll know the jokes can rapidly give way to a quicksand of despair.

Yet the wonderful thing about Loach is his commitment to showing us the plucky and resourceful face of poverty. Like Billy, the little boy who befriends a falcon in Kes (1969), or the bottom-of-the-heap laborers in Riff-Raff (1992), his characters are never pathetic: Instead of whining, they fight. Often described as a social realist, Loach is also a great humanist, and it's the humanity that makes his films so poignant and memorable.

Liam (first-time actor Martin Compston), the scrappy protagonist of Sweet Sixteen, begins the film as a mischievous 15-year-old who hangs out on the streets of Gourock, Scotland, with his reckless friend, Pinball (William Ruane). Together they run small ventures, both legitimate (charging other kids for a glimpse of Saturn through Liam's beloved telescope) and illicit (selling stolen ciggies in the local pubs). But Liam's financial needs swell far beyond his income when he spots a trailer for sale on the banks of the river Clyde--the perfect place for him and his mom, Jean (Michelle Coulter), to live when she gets out of prison in a few weeks, on the eve of his 16th birthday.

We can see how this is likely to end, but we can't look away. Neither Pinball nor Liam's wiser sister, single mother Chantelle (Annmarie Fulton), can persuade Liam of the folly of his obsession. Even if Liam survives his fearful "initiation" by the local drug lord (Martin McCardie), the likelihood of the unstable Jean settling down to any kind of normal life is slim. She's already taken a fall for her sinister, heroin-dealing boyfriend, Stan (Gary McCormack), and she's still dealing for him in prison. But Liam's love for Jean is fierce and atavistic, answering neither to logic nor caution--it's his only hope for a life he still believes is possible.

Throughout the greed-obsessed '90s, Loach produced almost a film a year, steadfastly and compassionately drawing our attention to people and problems we often prefer to ignore. In the process his films have become less didactic and more artful at gaining attention (his 2000 film about the Los Angeles janitors' strike, Bread and Roses, garnered terrific reviews at Cannes), without compromising their maker's politics or social conscience. Sweet Sixteen continues this trajectory, and the film is an often-funny, often-wrenching look at the consequences of neglect, of an environment where the only authority figures are drug dealers and thugs.

Surrounded by lovely, naturalistic performances, 17-year-old Compston is an amazing Liam, spunky and intelligent. Like Maggie, the combative heroine of Loach's Ladybird, Ladybird (1994), Liam is fighting to create a family he instinctively knows he has a right to--even if he has to suffer multiple beatings to get it. Too young to know hopelessness, Liam just keeps loving his mother and looking at the stars.

Note: In recent years, Loach films have been subtitled for American audiences, an addition that's theoretically good. But as a Scot myself, I continue to be astonished by the incompetence of the subtitling, which often merely transcribes the Scottish word instead of translating it. For example, "stookie" (a plaster cast) and "wean" (a child) are not translated, along with other, more crucial, colloquialisms.