When punk rock ruled over Ulster

Reviewed: Good Vibrations.

Good Vibrations tells three stories. One is the story of Terri Hooley, the one-eyed “godfather of Irish punk” who set about the restoration of Belfast’s youth culture in the early 1970s. In the film, Hooley (Richard Dormer) opens a record shop, founds a label, struggles with money and neglects his pregnant wife, played by Jodie Whittaker. He is determined to live by his instincts and forget about The Troubles. In the process he introduces the world to Ulster’s finest punk bands - Rudi, The Outcasts and The Undertones - and gives John Peel his favourite song: “Teenage Kicks”.

And this is the second story: the music born out of that moment, how it attempted to reanimate a static generation with little to hope for. The film captures the energy magnificently. There is a scene in which Hooley, who has so far been peddling folk, blues and rock ‘n’ roll, follows a safety-pinned adolescent to a gig in a working men’s club, and finally gets punk. It’s blissful. One of my biggest movie bugbears is the aggressive fading-out of background noise and fading-in of studio silence perceptible before a musical number. Not here. The soundtrack weaves naturally and ceaselessly into the plot, and the loudness, shock and presence of the band in the room will be recognisable to anyone who’s ever been to a DIY gig in a function room or church hall. Hooley's damascene awakening is euphoric.

The film possesses the qualities of an aging rocker’s scrapbook. Archive footage, annotation and Gondry-esque interludes patch together the scene building montages and intimate biographical moments between Hooley and his family. Dylan Moran makes an appearance (little more than a cameo, though worth every second) as a weary landlord whose empty bar is festooned in mesh and surveillance equipment. It demands a few poetic liscences, quick jumps through time, anachronistic references and a slightly triumphalist ending - but all are forgivable. Above all it is hilarious, sincere and heartfelt.

The third story that the movie tells, it's not-so-hidden backdrop, is one we know all too well: the segregation, poverty, violence and vigilantism that fragmented Northern Ireland from the 1960s on. Hooley stares them all down, as the man who inspired the film continues to do. In October last year the real Terri Hooley (who appears briefly in the film as an out of tune accordionist) was attacked while out walking his dog. “Fenian lover,” they scowled at him. “You're a disgrace to the Protestant community.” Good Vibrations opens Belfast up to a new point of view. It refuses any notion of “sides”. The bars, streets and venues are not seen looking in, as in the news, but from the inside looking out.

Behold! Richard Dormer and Michael Colgan in Good Vibrations. Photo: BBC.

Philip Maughan is a freelance writer in Berlin and a former Assistant Editor at the New Statesman.

GETTY
Show Hide image

Marching against climate change in the age of Donald Trump

The People’s Climate Movement is as much about politics as science. That's its strength.

Saying goodbye is never easy. But the present generation are facing an awful lot of farewells: to the melting arctic, the dying Barrier Reef, and the general resilience of ecosystems around the world. As Margaret Atwood described it in her essay of the same name: “It’s not climate change, it’s everything change”.

The problem with “everything-change” is that it can be overwhelming. How do you even decide where to start?

The People’s Climate Movement want to begin by making visible the extent of concern out there. This weekend, a coalition of organisations have planned a protest march on the American capital. Between 50,000 -100,000 people are expected to attend, including eco-celebrities Leonardo Di Caprio, Al Gore and Richard Branson.

In London, a group called Campaign Against Climate Change, are co-ordinating a UK-based solidarity event. Protestors will meet at 11.30am in Old Palace yard opposite Parliament, then move to Westminster Bridge, where they will spell out a message to Theresa May: “Trump and May: Climate Disaster”.

For UK campaigners, this is a vital opportunity to raise awareness of the many ways in which action on climate change is under threat. Claire James from CACC outlines the sense of frustration and injustice that many feel with regard to recent government policy: “There have been 12,000 jobs lost last year in the solar industry alone and installation numbers have plummeted. Meanwhile fracking, hugely unpopular, is given determined backing.”

Ahead of the June election, campaigners are using the event to call for specific, cross-party commitments. One, fast-tracking the UK’s delayed Climate Change Plan. Two, ruling out new trade deals that compromise environmental, worker or consumer rights. And three, implementing a fair deal for UK solar and wind industry. “Our action on Saturday is about saying to the government – and to anyone who wants to form the next government – do your policies measure up?” says James.

These concrete political aims are an important way in which the movement differs from last weekend’s March For Science. That protest, inspired by the popularity of the Women’s March earlier this year, kept its message intentionally wide. As one of the London event’s organisers told DeSmog, it placed its emphasis on a generalised “celebration of science”. But this lack of specificity drew criticism from some quarters – for presenting a confusing message about politics' relationship to science.

Generalisation can also risk putting people off joining marches at all. Over the last few months, numerous friends have said they feel uncomfortable joining protests where they’re not sure that the person marching next to them is doing so for the same reasons. They’d feel much happier signing a petition, with a more specific and limited aim, they tell me.

This weekend’s climate marches risk drawing some of the same concerns. “Climate-change has become a synecdoche, a surrogate, for many causes in today’s world – social justice, the protection of nature, the rights of future generations, the defence of science,” says Professor Mike Hulme from King's College London. “Marches such as this give political voice to anti-establishment protest, but they don’t stop the climate changing.”

In addition, not all who want to see climate change prioritised by governments may agree over the exact course of action – with outright opposition to fracking, for instance, or to a third runway at Heathrow.

But this weekend’s movement also appears to have taken these lessons on board. First, they are putting their political aims up front. According the US event’s website, whereas the March for Science strove to be non-political, this movement “believes strongly in the need to call out the politicians.”

The link to the Paris Climate Treaty is helpful in this respect. The People’s Climate Movement traces its birth back to September 21 2014, the eve of the UN climate summit, when 400,000 people marched through New York demanding action on the climate crisis. This gives the movement a clear piece of legislation to both celebrate and defend.

And the London-based event is also attempting to re-think and expand what street-protests can achieve. “We’re doing a smaller action rather than a big march,” explains Claire James, “but we’re trying to have a real focus with the speakers on ‘what next’”. After the protest in Westminster, attendees are invited to join an afternoon of free food, activities and music, hosted by the food waste campaign Feedback. Here there will be even further opportunity to learn about the many ways – from divestment campaigns to local renewable energy groups – in which people can help press for change.

In this respect, public action against the climate crisis promises not to end when the walking does. And while protests won't stop climate change in themselves, joining a march can be a powerful reminder that we are not in this crisis alone.

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

0800 7318496