Ken Loach’s gritty trilogy
I don’t get much time to watch TV – I tend to watch things in 20 minute segments while I eat my supper on the increasingly rare evenings I’m at home. But I’ve made it a priority to watch Ken Loach’s trilogy of films about life at the pointy end of English society. The films explore the struggles of ordinary people against bureaucratic systems and economic injustice.
[Warning: don’t watch them if you’re feeling at all fragile. They won’t cheer you up.]
I, Daniel Blake (2016) serves as a searing indictment of the UK’s welfare system, following the titular character, a skilled carpenter recovering from a heart attack, as he navigates the Kafkaesque maze of government bureaucracy. Dave Johns delivers a standout performance as Daniel, capturing the frustration and dignity of a man caught in a system that dehumanizes those it’s meant to help.
Rishi Sunak is pledging to curb “sick note culture” – I would implore him to remember that on the other side of that debate are real people like Daniel, not just “claimants”, and to use an individualised, supportive approach, not the blunt sledgehammer of punitive measures that will only add to the 14 million people already living in poverty in this country.
Sorry We Missed You (2019) continues Loach’s exploration of working-class struggles, this time focusing on the gig economy. The film follows Ricky, a delivery driver, and his family as they grapple with the precariousness of modern-day employment. Loach exposes the toll of exploitative labour practices on individuals and families, painting a devastating portrait of the human cost of corporate greed.
The film was made before the pandemic, when it became even more obvious just how the people in such jobs are essential to keeping the country running, yet they have no job security, immense work pressure, and poor pay. Lib Dems are calling for a 20% higher wage for people on zero hours contracts, and the establishment of basic protections so that the so-called precariat don’t become even more precarious.
The Old Oak (2023) tells the story of a former pit village in County Durham (where I spent part of my childhood) after Syrian refugees arrive, facing considerable hostility from some of the locals. The friendship between a young Syrian woman and the landlord of the Old Oak gradually starts to thaw relations, as he opens up the disused back room of the pub to host community meals for locals and refugees to eat together.
Even as the right wing press stokes resentment against immigrants and refugees, we have to remember that newcomers are people who have felt compelled to flee their home countries, and that is not an easy decision. It’s important to treat each case individually, and to remember that there is a real human being under the hijab, behind the burka, inside the melanin-rich skin.
Ken Loach has an extraordinary ability to portray the struggles of the marginalized with empathy and authenticity. The trilogy offers a sobering reflection on the human cost of economic inequality and the urgent need for systemic change.
What does that change look like? We need to put people back at the heart of systems, treating them as the unique, special, sometimes vulnerable human beings that they are. We need to recognise their humanity, and remember our own.
There are some cracking lines in all three of the films, but the one I found most moving is at the end of I, Daniel Blake:
“I am not a client, a customer, nor a service user. I am not a shirker, a scrounger, a beggar, nor a thief. I’m not a National Insurance Number or blip on a screen. I paid my dues, never a penny short, and proud to do so. I don’t tug the forelock, but look my neighbour in the eye and help him if I can. I don’t accept or seek charity. My name is Daniel Blake. I am a man, not a dog. As such, I demand my rights. I demand you treat me with respect. I, Daniel Blake, am a citizen, nothing more and nothing less.”
This brings to mind the LibDem vision, embodied in the preamble to our constitution, that we aspire to a society in which nobody is enslaved by poverty, ignorance or conformity. It was that vision that brought me into the Liberal Democrats, and is the North Star that draws me forward.