“There’s a famous coal seam called the Great Atlantic Fault. It starts in northern Spain in the Basque Country, runs through the Bay of Biscay and comes up in south Wales. Then it goes under the Atlantic for miles and miles and comes up again in Pennsylvania. So you can take a Basque, Welsh or Pennsylvanian miner, transport them blindfolded, and they will recognise the coalface the moment they see it. There is no other coal like it. It’s perfect, pure.”
So riffs Bill Nighy’s Cliff in the Onllwyn Social Club, with a mix of Soho activists and Welsh trade unionists hanging on his every word. This moment is when when my experience watching PRIDE in the cinema in 2014 passes from general enjoyment to full on, fanboy love. Cliff’s coal anecdote is taken verbatim from Richard Burton’s 1980 appearance on The Dick Cavett Show. So not only touches eloquently on the history of, you know, Wales in the movies, but also acts as a lovely metaphor to the film’s theme of solidarity.
The synopsis reads “At the Gay Pride March in London, a group of gay and lesbian activists decides to raise money to support the families of the striking miners. But there is a problem. The Union seems embarrassed to receive their support”. But it may as well just write Unlikely Friendship®, which in trope terms means that the friendship is really quite likely. As Andrew Scott’s Gethin warns, there isn’t always a welcome in the hillside. But you’ll know that it’s coming. PRIDE’s strength is how it manages negate its own predictability. Familiar but also fresh. It’s sentimental, but not sickly. Principled without being preachy. Conforming to and breaking stereotypes. There is power in its contrasts. Strength in diversity, if you will. One kiss scene in particular, encapsulates the clash of worlds more than any other and, I can honestly say as heterosexual male that it stayed with me for days afterwards. It’s powerful stuff, honest and heartfelt, but also restrained at the right moments.
The film (of course based on real events) opens on great form by introducing its main characters in a few minutes as closeted young Joe (George McKay) stands nervously on the periphery of his first Gay & Lesbian march. This might sound pretentious, but it’s is opening reminiscent and worthy of THE GODFATHER in a way. Instantly this march immerses you in a well-defined world of multiple characters and the first twenty minutes thump along at a fantastic pace.
Then we meet the rest of the soho gang galvanised by Mark Ashton (a charismatic Mark Schnetzer). It’s far too savvy a story to not make the best of its setting and it can at times feel like ‘Gay’ is a setting just as much as Wales.
Screenwriter Stephen Beresford and director Matthew Warchus deserve massive credit for the balancing acts they’ve both pulled off. The fondness increases once they cross the Severn Bridge to enter Wales, making a nervous introduction to what Thatcher called the “enemy within”, the striking and starving miners. In this case the villagers of Onllwyn lead by Paddy Considine’s Dai, Bill Nighy adding huge gravitas as Cliff and Imelda Staunton’s matriarchal Hefina. We could be here all day, fitting this ensemble cast into something cohesive is a challenge pulled off with aplomb.
Among the humour and celebration, there are forces of ill will. Thatcher is ever lurking in the background as are some predictable homophobes putting spanners in works (and bricks through windows) in both London and south Wales. Welsh film regulars Lisa Palfrey and Dyfan Dwyfor stand out as the film’s ‘bad guys’.
Visually, it feels earthy and filmic, the depiction of an 80s retro adding to the atmosphere. The smoky Onllwyn Social Club brings to mind some scenes from LOCAL HERO, while the musical tone and feel good direction familiar to fans of BRASSED OFF, BILLY ELLIOT or THE FULL MONTY – perhaps with more political and nostalgic resonance as this is a story very much based on real events. The one fictional character is Joe “Bromley” and it’s testament to the screenwriters’ judgement that this guy’s coming out rebirth is absolutely necessary to the film’s themes.
Wales
Yes, there are some rather exotic representations. The idea of Rhyl as an idyllic rural homestead is rather amusing, and of course Gethin, who’s supposed to be from the north, sounds like he’s been hiding away in Port Talbot, not London. But another great ‘Welsh’ moment from the film comes as Gethin drunkenly contemplates his homecoming with a sudden exclamation of “I’m home! I’m gay, and I’m Welsh!” As for other accents, I’m not sure they’re that bad. Most online bad reactions seem aimed at Imelda Staunton and Bill Nighy but one suspects that’s because Paddy Considine can do no wrong in many eyes. To these ears, his accent is the least convincing out of the non-Welsh cast.
Plenty of chances for local actors to shine including aforementioned Palfrey and Dwyfor (THE BAKER, Y LLYFRGELL) joined by Rhodri Meilir (television’s MY FAMILY, CAERDYDD, RAPSGALIWN and on film THE BAKER). Also Kyle Reese (HOLLYOAKS, THE BASTARD EXECUTIONER).
PRIDE was shot in and around Onllwyn Social Club along with a poignant scene at Carreg Cennen Castle, near Llandeilo in Brecon Beacons National Park.
Wales is more than a mining pits and social clubs, I’m not sure how much this film speaks for the people of Gwynedd or Ceredigion, but this is one of the best and probably the warmest representations of our country that you’ll see in a British movie. And that Burton reference well, swoon.
Undod am byth,
Nick
WALES in the MOVIES 