Fighting for identity
When director David Mackenzie’s kinetic, bloody war epic “Outlaw King” landed the prime opening night spot at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) in September, it seemed to signal great things for Netflix and for Mackenzie, whose previous work, “Hell or High Water,” was a critical hit a couple years ago. Alas, it was not to be. Critical response to the two-hour-and-twentyminute film that premiered was muted. This was a shame, for I was immediately taken with the earnest and bloody ode to country and to brotherhood. Mackenzie’s response was to re-edit the film, trimming fifteen minutes from its runtime. The shorter, more efficient “Outlaw King” is now playing on Netflix and as I watched this newer version, I was reminded of how much Mackenzie’s tale of country, of brotherhood, and of men, resonated with a contemporary relevance about finding identity.
“Outlaw King” tells the story of Robert the Bruce, the 14th century Scottish lord who would launch a crazy war against the English army to give credence to the Scottish crown. The Scottish fight for respect from England, despite its temporal distance, felt relevant and timely. And, the toxic relationship between Scotland and England in the film presented it as a strange kind of partner for a very different TIFF premiere, the small-budget independent Irish drama “Float Like A Butterfly.” Directed by Carmel Winters, “Float Like A Butterfly” is the story of Frances, a young Irish Traveller (an Irish ethnic group known for their nomadic ways) who yearns to be a boxer (the title is an ode to her idol, Muhammad Ali), despite a chaotic home life.
“Outlaw King” and “Float Like a Butterfly” are different, formally and narratively. And on, the surface they seem to have little in common beyond being set in countries bordering England but it is that same shared English border that provides them both with a timely socio-political relevance. Both films hinge on the question of identity, a concept that is illusory but essential for nations living under the threat of the Englishness that threatens the culture of Scotland in the 14th century and Ireland in the 1960s. Both protagonists (the taciturn Robert the Bruce, and the similarly blunt Frances) are struggling to define themselves amidst the weight of their respective family’s expectations.
“Butterfly” is a thoughtful assessment of gender relations as Frances struggles to be recognised by her volatile father, who is struggling with his own personal demons. Her desire for boxing and her androgynous behaviour present her as even more of an Other, in a world where itinerant Irish Travellers are already an object of scorn for the dominant population. Whereas Frances is wondering how to be a woman, “Outlaw King” is superb in the way it asks how to be a man. Many films this year have mined the complexities of male relationships for content, and “Outlaw King” is one of the better ones. Mackenzie’s script and direction examine the limits and scope of what it means to be a man and the ways the burden of masculinity intersects and clashes across country, across class, and across family boundaries.
“Are you a good man, Robert Bruce?” Aaron TaylorJohnson’s James Douglas asks Robert the Bruce. Everything is circling around that question in the film. The film has many men, and the idea of goodness sometimes seems incorrect for them all. “I’m trying to be,” Robert answers. “That’s good enough for me,” is Douglas’ short response. It’s a larger point the film is making. The only way to be a good man, a good human, is to make an effort.
Taylor-Johnson is the standout in “Outlaw King,” giving the film’s most visceral and most unpredictable performance. Douglas bears the trauma of his history on his face and in his voice—a Scottish man burned by the legacy and land stolen by the English. The best shot in the film, beautiful in its lack of subtlety, is one of Douglas’ face covered in blood as he screams out his own name. Douglas best emphasises the pseudo-postcolonial undertones of “Outlaw King” and Scotland’s struggle for