It seems strange that I coincidentally saw this on the same day as the previous entry (I refuse to dignify it by naming it) because if anything else they do make a rather fitting double bill. Where the German film dealt with the actions of a group of terrorists and then their treatment in jail, this film focuses solely on the latter, detailing IRA member Bobby Sands' hunger strike in 1981.
This is the directorial debut of visual artist Steve McQueen and it seems almost redundant to comment that he has an eye for his visuals. One question raised by this film is what on earth McQueen is trying to do with this film - he shows no background whatsoever into Sands' past, character or activity so by definition it is irrelevant to him. He is however interested in showing exactly how brutal the prison guards were and also how humiliating the way the prisoners chose to protest was (prior to the hunger strike they would refuse to wear prison uniform, hence meaning they were only allowed to wear a blanket and ended up smearing excrement on their walls).
A big problem with the film is the lack of balance. We are shown a prison guard who checks his car for bombs and soothes his knuckles in water from the beatings he gives, but we know nothing about this man and pretty soon he is shot in the head in a revenge killing for the brutality in the prison. This is not balance, mere tokenism because the other side of the issue is absolutely given far more detail and inherent support as we see the guards' abhorrant actions and behaviour but not the prisoners', we do not hear their justification for it but we do his. Most indicative of this is the much lauded 22 minute scene (with three quarters of that being one continuous take) - now, frankly, long takes are not impressive just because they are long takes and here it is used so as not to distract at all from the conversation between Sands and a priest. It is quite saddening that this scene recalls the worst of Ken Loach in that the audience is presented with two different takes on one general position which is assumed to be "correct". It also highlights that what McQueen is primarily interested in (aside from the voyeurism of viewing the man's living conditions and watching him die) is Sands' justification for the strike.
What this all means is that unless you agree with or at least empathise with the character's point of view (the priest, while against his action agrees with his principles so is a poor audience-substitute to interrogate Sands) then there is nothing for this film to offer. We hear 22 minutes of bickering over the right way to go about getting the British to cede to your demands (which are assumed to be right and proper - it's so Loachian it's almost funny) and then have a 3 minute take of a guard cleaning urine off the floors whilst having as polarising a person as Margaret Thatcher putting across the opposing view for under a minute? Tokenism and a complete lack of context or balance.
This film is not what McQueen claims it to be (which is the reason this is a problem), he claims to be neutral yet the whole film is geared towards Sands justifying himself and the "people" (they aren't characters because we know nothing about them and aren't even afforded the benefit of their motivation McQueen saw so fit to give Sands) on the other side are complete afterthoughts. All of this means chronicling Sands' thought process is all very well and good, but only provided you take his point of view, otherwise it's just talking heads for 20 minutes. Thereafter watching the guy physically waste away for half an hour (which also requires you to care about him to have any interest whatsoever) is in itself rather pointless, it is only given meaning if you've justified the protagonist's position in the eyes of the audience so that is precisely what McQueen has to do and why it's so intellectually dishonest to claim a neutral position - as Wendy Ide in The Times brought up, why is the film being made other than to condone his actions?
Having the final third be his physical decline is where the acting is so irrelevant, it's such a physical role that any halfway decent actor foolish enough to endanger his health by starving himself would give a performance on par of that which Michael Fassbender has delivered. This reminded me of child performances completely crafted by the director, here you have Fassbender as the toy of McQueen doing whatever he wants as it is McQueen shaping what we are seeing, outside of the overly theatrical talky two reels it's stretching it to even call it a performance.
The opening couple of reels are virtually silent, it's very cinematic, McQueen shows an assured confidence in the medium, which is sadly later undermined by the stagey one-act-play show-off "look he's not cutting!" of the long take. The subject matter involved is very sensitive and will always have people staunchly in opposite corners of the debate. The problem is that for those who did not live through the times, the only way to satisfactorily go along with this film dramatically is to take the position of Sands as victim otherwise you're just watching a snuff movie about a terrorist who got what he wanted and deserved and there's nothing worthwhile in taking the film that way.
So an artfully made film, with pretensions of importance not served by an intellectually dishonest approach to the material. If you sympathise with the Republican cause this film will probably have quite a lot to offer, however if you are not a member of the choir (be it because you're neutral or in the opposite camp) there's really nothing to be gained from listening to McQueen's sermon.