There's a strong argument to be made that Ken Loach is getting sentimental in his old age. 'The Old Oak (2023)' is reportedly the 87-year-old filmmaker's swan song and it's arguably one of his most hopeful films to date - especially when compared to his other recent (and superior) pictures, 'I, Daniel Blake (2016)' and 'Sorry We Missed You (2019)'. That's not to imply that this social realist call to action shies away from breaking your heart (lovers of a certain animal may just explode into a shower of tears thanks to a certain shocking scene), nor does it present itself as an overly idealised version of modern Britain. Loach still loathes the state of things and puts the blame solely on those in power (the only place it can sensibly lie), and he often uses his characters to espouse the ideals he so clearly holds close to his own heart. At the same time, though, there's an undercurrent of community and solidarity that is never fully stomped out by the racism, xenophobia and general bigotry on display by the story's least sympathetic characters. In some ways, that's almost a bigger middle finger to the system that breeds such views by scapegoating very real socio-economic issues on those who are least responsible for them (and are the most vulnerable, to boot). The narrative explores the events that unfold when a group of Syrian refugees are placed in a poverty-stricken village in the North of England that has essentially been left to rot, showcasing the disgusting resistance (i.e. Bigotry) they're met with after they've escaped a warzone and have been brought to one of the richest countries in the world only to find that people are having to choose between heating their homes and feeding their kids. It posits that the refugees and the unwelcoming community they're integrated with have more similarities than differences, and that it's only the worst members of the community that can't come to accept that. In fact, their ignorant attitudes actually hurt everyone in the village. The racism and xenophobia that is brought out of the protagonist's once friends is always extremely uncomfortable to sit through, and the film does a good job in making sure that it never even comes close to excusing - or, worse, sharing - these harmful attitudes. After a certain point, you've constantly got your guard up and anticipate some form of racially-motivated conflict at every turn, which - in some small way - puts you in the same position as its Syrian characters and further increases your empathy for them. Mainly thanks to a couple of surprisingly good performances from its non-professional lead actors, the movie is often as emotionally affecting as it is bleakly realistic. Its highs hit as hard as its lows and its important messaging is always resonant. It does have a few narrative issues that seem to mainly arise from its desire to subvert expectation in an effort to be more 'real' than a satisfyingly structured screenplay could - in their view - ever be. Certain plot elements are introduced yet never revisited, and the central concept doesn't come into play until far later than you may expect or, indeed, want. Still, it's an engaging and effective affair throughout. It isn't as good as some of Loach's other work, and it won't change the minds of those that need their minds changing simply due to the fact that they won't see it, but it's a solid and surprisingly hopeful note on which to end an impressively consistent career.
