Breaking ‘Kneecap’: How a Music Biopic Born From an ‘All-Night Bender’ Became One of Ireland’s Most Important Films (and a Likely Oscars Contender)

As a film enthusiast who has followed the rise of Kneecap and their groundbreaking movie “Kneecap” with great interest, I must say that watching their journey unfold has been nothing short of exhilarating. Having grown up in Ireland, I can attest to the fact that the Irish language has always held a special place in our hearts, but it was never really cool or hip – at least not until Kneecap came along.


“Has anyone worn a tracksuit to the Oscars?”

Naoise O’ Cairealláin, one-third of the rapidly rising Irish-language hip-hop group Kneecap (also known as Móglaí Bap), never imagined he’d be pondering this. However, with “Kneecap,” the anarchic semi-fictitious biopic in which he portrays his character wearing permanent tracksuits, gaining traction before its U.S. release on August 2 and potentially representing Ireland for the 2025 Academy Awards’ international feature category, it isn’t far-fetched to consider if he should wear his signature outfit to the ceremony.

Bandmate JJ O Dochartaigh, also known as DJ Próvaí, proposes a different look: black tracksuits paired with white ties. He’s pondering about his frequent use of an Irish tricolor balaclava in the film and even sports one for most of it. He also mentions a possibility of bringing the RUC jeep to the Oscars with them.

The setting is outside the Galmont Hotel in central Galway, where the band known as Kneecap (a name derived from an IRA tactic of shooting drug dealers in the knees) is having a conversation with EbMaster over a typical pint of Guinness. Notably, this group hails from communities that were often subjected to allegations of sectarianism and brutality by the Royal Ulster Constabulary (RUC), Northern Ireland’s former police force during the tumultuous period known as The Troubles, which ended in 2001. This controversial police force was frequently accused of being biased against Catholic and Irish nationalist communities. The jeep mentioned is currently parked nearby.

As a longtime advocate for peace and justice in Palestine, I can’t help but be drawn to vehicles that serve as both mobile billboards and political statements. The van I recently encountered on the west coast of Ireland was no exception. With Palestinian flags proudly displayed on the front and an “England Get Out of Ireland” sticker, it was clear that this vehicle had a story to tell.

Approximately an hour before the interview, Bap and Próvaí were positioned on top of a jeep outside Galway’s ordinary Town Hall Theatre, waving flares that produced red smoke for a group of photographers (and some dedicated fans who caught wind of the event). Normally, Mo Chara (Liam Óg Ó Hannaidh), another member of Kneecap, would be with them. However, after spending several months touring extensively throughout Europe — including two successful, defining performances at Glastonbury following the release of their debut LP “Fine Art” — he’s taken ill and won’t be able to attend.

They’re not in Galway as musicians, however, but as movie stars. 

Breaking ‘Kneecap’: How a Music Biopic Born From an ‘All-Night Bender’ Became One of Ireland’s Most Important Films (and a Likely Oscars Contender)

As a passionate film enthusiast who has attended numerous international film festivals, I can confidently say that “Kneecap” is a must-see movie for anyone who appreciates raw, authentic storytelling. Having grown up in Belfast, I have a deep connection to the city and its culture, and I was immediately drawn to this film’s portrayal of working-class life in the area.

Global viewers might have already been captivated by the bold and confrontational style of a movie often compared to an Irish version of “Trainspotting” (Irvine Welsh, author of the novel the 1996 film was based on, went as far as calling “Kneecap” “absolutely fucking phenomenal”). This is significantly different from the stereotypical rural, “begorra”-filled representations often seen in Irish cinema. For writer-director Rich Peppiatt, the first public screening of “Kneecap” to a local audience was always the most important date marked on his calendar.

Before the debut in Galway, the filmmaker shares that the creation of “Kneecap” has a nearly as unruly backstory, though not quite as much as the band themselves.

Previously working as a journalist for British tabloids, Peppiatt relocated to Belfast with his family in 2019, primarily to avoid London’s excessive property market and be close to his wife’s relatives. Shortly after settling in, he attended an unfamiliar hip-hop concert. Although he couldn’t comprehend the lyrics being performed, he was captivated and puzzled by the evident enthusiasm of the thousand attendees.

According to producer Trevor Birney, a multiple award-winning documentarian known for his work in both politics (such as “No Stone Unturned” and “Gaza”) and music (“Cyndi Lauper: Let the Canary Sing,” “The Go-Go’s”), a quiet movement was emerging from West Belfast and the Irish-speaking community that was gaining attention.

After several months of unsuccessful attempts to reach Kneecap via email by Peppiatt, Birney managed to provide him with a phone number, which he obtained through a female colleague who had connections within the band due to previous relationships. They met for drinks, and the conversation led to more drinks, eventually resulting in an extended 12-hour session that concluded at 7 a.m. the following morning – a potentially notable event in Irish filmmaking history.

“The director acknowledges that his colleagues were assessing him, to ensure he wasn’t a police officer and that he could match their pace,” he explains later on. However, after the confusion had cleared, he discovered an intriguing creative opportunity. The group Kneecap, with their unique blend of music, politics, unabashed use of Irish language, and their representation of the “Peace Babies” generation – individuals born post-Good Friday Agreement who embody a vibrant, contemporary Ireland eager to discard historical baggage and reclaim its cultural identity – piqued his interest.

For Birney, it was “one of those stories that seemed obvious once pointed out. Indeed, Kneecap.” (Informal tone) or “Birney found it to be a story that had been there all along but wasn’t immediately apparent. Naturally, he realized Kneecap was the answer.” (Formal tone)

Breaking ‘Kneecap’: How a Music Biopic Born From an ‘All-Night Bender’ Became One of Ireland’s Most Important Films (and a Likely Oscars Contender)

Thus commenced a year-long endeavor for Peppiatt, involving long hours dedicated to drafting a script. This was accompanied by multiple extended encounters with arguably Ireland’s most enthusiastic rap group, known for their lengthy parties.

Over time, I skillfully intertwined a narrative that blended truth and imagination; an enhanced account of how Bap, Chara, and Próvaí transformed into Kneecap, their unwavering conviction in Irish as a potent emblem of identity and resistance against colonial suppression, and their recurring encounters with the authorities, paramilitary forces, and ketamine.

As a seasoned investigative journalist with years of experience uncovering the truth behind sensational headlines, I must admit that the story of Bap and his enigmatic past intrigues me. The tale of his christening at an ancient Catholic site while a British army helicopter hovered overhead is certainly outlandish, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility in today’s complex world.

In spite of Birney’s own excitement, he remained apprehensive that potential investors might find the script’s drug references and a particular line, “I’m going to blow you like a Brighton hotel,” which is spoken in the movie by Charas Protestant lover in relation to the 1984 IRA bombing attempt on U.K. Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, to be off-putting. However, others showed equal enthusiasm (it’s worth noting that most of them attempted – and unsuccessfully – to delete the Brighton line from the script).

As a movie enthusiast, one of the initial moves I made was reaching out to my long-standing collaborator, Proinsias Ní Ghráinne, commissioning editor for TG4, the Irish-language public broadcaster. He eagerly agreed that it was a no-brainer for them to join us as our TV partner. I also contacted Patrick O’Neill, the founder of Wildcard Distribution, early on in the process. For him, Kneecap resonated deeply due to its unique approach in using fresh language to discuss things that were often considered taboo, such as wanting a united Ireland. This film represented a growing subculture that wasn’t ashamed of their aspirations, and Patrick felt compelled to support it, making Kneecap the first co-production credit for Wildcard (and I must say, he deserves extra kudos for securing the crucial Jeep vehicle).

2020 marked the submission of the script for financing through Mother Tongues, a fresh initiative aimed at U.K. filmmakers working on non-English language films. “Kneecap” was the inaugural selection to receive funding, leading to Shudder Films’ Jack Tarling joining as producer, Curzon stepping in as co-producer and handling distribution within the U.K., while Charades took on the role of sales agent (Charades had been handing out “Kneecap” balaclavas at their market screenings in Berlin earlier this year). Funds were also secured from regional film bodies Northern Ireland Screen and Screen Ireland, as well as the British Film Institute.

In response to the British Film Institute expressing interest, Peppiatt mused, “That’s sure to rile up The Daily Mail.” And indeed, it did. Following the Sundance premiere, the conservative newspaper published a critical piece online, lambasting the use of public funds for a biopic about a rap group accused of glorifying the IRA and fueling sectarian tensions. However, Peppiatt counters by stating that their British origin makes them effectively ‘non-stick’ (Teflon), suggesting that whenever the film is labeled “anti-British,” they can simply bring up the fact that it was penned by a fellow Briton.

Kneecap has consistently sought public attention throughout their career. They first gained prominence in 2017 when one of Ireland’s major radio stations banned their song “C.E.A.R.T.A.” due to drug references and profanity. Further controversy arose in 2022, stemming from a mural they painted on a Belfast wall depicting an armored police Land Rover engulfed in flames, which sparked strong criticism from unionist politicians. They rented a similar van (which, along with the balaclava, is now synonymous with their brand) from a prop house in L.A. for a high price to attend Sundance. At the launch of their album in June, they transformed a London pub into a venue, inviting guests to urinate on pictures of King Charles that they had placed in the urinals.

Kneecap’s outspoken nature often stirs up debate, and this is unlikely to change, regardless of their album sales or career advancements. Although they may seem playful with their antics, it’s evident that their moral and political convictions carry more weight than their professional aspirations. In March, Kneecap refused to attend SXSW due to the festival’s ties with weapons companies and U.S. Army sponsorship. This decision, they stated, would have a substantial financial impact on the band. Interestingly, O’Neill learned about this while in flight to Austin. Fast forward to now, SXSW has ended its partnership with the U.S. Army.

Peadar Ó Goill, who doubles as co-manager for Kneecap and a film director, was immediately captivated by the group due to their unwavering commitment against selling out. In the circles of Sundance, it was whispered that they had been discreetly advised to soften some political messages, particularly those concerning Palestine, prior to sealing a deal with Sony Pictures Classics. However, every producer involved in the project firmly denies ever making such a suggestion, stating that it would only serve to undermine their efforts. “We have never altered our beliefs or the way we discuss politics,” insists Próvaí. It’s noteworthy that Kneecap has forbidden the use of their name in any sales or public displays in Israel as a symbolic act of protest against the Gaza attacks, an action Bap describes as merely a “minor show of solidarity.”

Breaking ‘Kneecap’: How a Music Biopic Born From an ‘All-Night Bender’ Became One of Ireland’s Most Important Films (and a Likely Oscars Contender)

Regarding concerns about both personal sensitivities and the script itself, there were significant challenges in producing “Kneecap” that were particularly relevant to filmmaking. Notably, the movie was being directed by three individuals who had no acting experience before (Provaí humorously mentioned he had to play himself because “Paul Mescal was unavailable”). This was a concern they acknowledged as well. If the project failed, their music careers might suffer along with it. As Bap puts it, “When everyone else moves on from ‘Kneecap’ the movie, they’ll move onto the next project, but we’ll still be Kneecap.”

To help the band members overcome their acting challenges, Peppiatt hired a theater instructor in Belfast and gave him half a year to transform them. Despite the band sometimes being tardy for their classes, this strategy proved effective. “They went from being moths to butterflies,” Peppiatt notes.

In 2023, before starting production, the trio known as the Kneecap-ers decided to abstain from alcohol for two months, possibly realizing the magnitude of their task. However, Bap confesses they undid all their preparations by consuming excessive amounts of alcohol in a hotel the night before filming began, leading them to shoot their first scene the next morning with barely open eyes. Interestingly, it was Fassbender who took over the late-night drinking during the shooting process, as reported by Peppiatt. Given Fassbender’s celebrity status, he had limited influence in getting the main cast to wrap up for the night.

In spite of these self-imposed hurdles and the initial apprehensions of the crew, who wondered if their jobs were at risk as Provaí stated on the first day, something truly remarkable transpired. This event seemed to coincide almost perfectly with the growth of the band.

The production of the movie started when Kneecap was expanding beyond West Belfast, yet by the time it was finished, they were already on tour internationally (including in the U.S.). After its premiere at Sundance, their fame has significantly increased, with the band’s reputation and the film influencing each other in a mutually beneficial way. O’Neill from Wildcard states that much of this synergy was not coincidental, as coordination between distributors and Kneecap’s label Heavenly Records ensured that both music and film releases were strategically timed.

However, this doesn’t imply that “Kneecap” was created solely for marketing purposes to increase album sales. Instead, it aligns perfectly with one of Kneecap’s primary objectives – expanding the reach of the Irish language into new, unexplored realms.

“Bap explains, ‘We aim to showcase a fresh identity and the unique subculture that thrives, and make it accessible globally.’ Many Americans are surprised to learn that being Irish is not just about having an accent!” (Paraphrased)

Today, the members of Kneecap have assumed a significant role, acting as modern champions for a language previously believed to be waning. Ní Ghráinne on TG4 notes that due to these talented rappers, “learning Irish has unexpectedly become trendy; teenagers are using it and bands that previously sang only in English now compose songs in Irish.” During a photoshoot in Galway, an excited fan, visibly nervous about meeting her idols, shared that she had recently discussed Kneecap during her Irish oral exam.

In the evening, feelings ran high at the premiere of “Kneecap” at the bustling Town Hall Theatre. Many younger viewers who had traveled all the way from Belfast specifically for this event found themselves shedding tears, particularly during the climactic scenes. Though they may not have lived lives as wild as the rappers portrayed in the film, its depiction of their environment, their experiences, and their identity resonated deeply with them, as they had never witnessed such authenticity on screen before. It’s no wonder that “Kneecap” is highly anticipated to break box office records in Ireland when it opens on August 8 (a week later in the U.S.), marking the widest release for an Irish film ever (with additional screens being added in Belfast to accommodate the overwhelming demand).

Breaking ‘Kneecap’: How a Music Biopic Born From an ‘All-Night Bender’ Became One of Ireland’s Most Important Films (and a Likely Oscars Contender)

And then there’s the Oscars.

In the limelight as not only the most talked-about Irish film but also one of the most buzzed-about non-English movies of the year, “Kneecap” has been eagerly anticipated to secure a nomination from the Irish Film and TV Academy for the international feature category. Even the group themselves took part in advocating for votes, in their distinctive fashion. The three were among the presenters at the IFTA Awards in Dublin in April, sporting tracksuits and sneakers as usual. When asked by EbMaster prior to the ceremony about the submission process, they replied poetically, “That’s why we’re here doing this.”

If proposed, there’s a strong optimism that “Kneecap” might equal the success of “The Quiet Girl,” which earned Ireland its first nomination in 2022. Some believe that traditional, older voters might not resonate with the film’s rebellious and counter-cultural themes, while the band’s vocal opinions – opinions that even a seasoned Hollywood PR professional wouldn’t be able to mute – could potentially create difficulties. “Kneecap” doesn’t seem to be interested in kissing up or, as Próvaí puts it, “playing the game” during any meticulously planned awards campaign. However, the Academy’s younger, more globally diverse membership could tip the scales in their favor, and the possibility of seeing them on the red carpet might also work in their favor.

As a great admirer of their work, I eagerly await if Kneecap, with their distinctive attire – tracksuits, balaclavas, and armored RUC jeep – will grace the Oscars stage. Regardless of the final result, the significant influence their film has already had on Ireland and Irish cinema is undeniable.

“Birney remarks that Rich [Peppiatt] has taken a firm grip of the Irish film industry, stating there’s likely no other U.K or Irish writer-director capable of such a feat due to the unique demands of the production, which required staying awake all night with Kneecap.”

“The term ‘kneecap’ might stem from an intense 12-hour brainstorming session under the influence of alcohol and drugs, yet it could potentially become one of the pivotal 12-hour sessions ever recorded in filmmaking.”

“Peppiatt notes that prolonged all-nighters typically result in a shortage of serotonin and feelings of regret. My initial night with Kneecap undoubtedly caused the former, but there’s definitely no remorse on my part.”

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2024-08-01 14:48