Loach in la la land

If you watch a film by Ken Loach you could be forgiven for thinking that Britain is a dark, miserable land run by toffs and rapacious bankers who subjugate the downtrodden masses and heroic workers beneath the jackboot of oppression. For Loach, a Marxist, history is a class struggle, and the British Empire to be reviled.

So, too, it would appear is modern Britain. His latest film, I, Daniel Blake, is an unremitting paean of gloom depicting the privations of people trying to claim benefits and overcome the barriers placed in their way. As a piece of drama, the film has won excellent reviews and high plaudits: at the Bafta awards on Sunday night it was named best British film of the year. That is testament to Loach’s skill as a director, which cannot be denied.

But what is hard to take is the implication that this is somehow emblematic of Britain, a completely false image that is projected abroad, where he is lionised. To Loach’s mind, the welfare state has been dismantled and the poor left to starve and rot, their dignity stripped away. His films are not about exploring the human condition but are an exercise in Left-wing propaganda, made all the more compelling by his directorial acumen.

Predictably, he used his acceptance speech at the Bafta awards ceremony at the Royal Albert Hall (surely imperial legacies to be shunned there) to lambast the Conservative Government for its “callous brutality” and thanked the Academy for “endorsing the truths of what the film says”. Without a trace of irony, he added: “Despite the glitz and glamour of occasions like this, we are with the people.” Actually, most people think that Loach and his like are living in la-la land.