Alan Parker
The Commitments

In one of my favorite films, where the plot and the soundtrack weave beautifully with the atmosphere of a suburban Dublin in the late '80s, I decided to return to writing a De-review in 2 parts: the first in the "ocular" section and the next in the "acoustic," discussing the (wonderful) soundtrack.

The film in question is "The Commitments," shot in 1991, directed by Alan Parker, and tells the story of Jimmy "chatterbox" Rabbite, who has been getting by for years on unemployment benefits and by selling bootleg cassettes and films in various street markets or on trains.

Because Jimmy (Robert Arkins) is the unquestionable protagonist of the story, he's handsome, lazy but intelligent, and has a great deal of common sense. So he accepts Dereck and Outspan's (guitarist and bassist) offer to become their band-manager, provided he has creative control over the entire project: that is, to be able to decide, after exhausting auditions and tryouts (even at the doorstep or in the middle of the street), the other members of the group. He decides at this point what genre the band will play: given the background of almost all the members, they want to express with music the life of the suburban Dublin working-class, consisting of factories, sex, and beers. No sweet words, just percussive rhythm, boobs, thighs, making out and screwing, street life, and huge benders.

So it is decided: they will play SOUL music.

The search for the band members continues when, at a certain point, a mysterious Joey "The Lips" Fagan shows up at Jimmy's house, claiming to have played with all the music greats. Even though he can never prove the truth of his "achievements," no one is ever able to find evidence to the contrary. After choosing three beautiful backup singers (Angeline Ball, Maria Doyle, Bronagh Gallagher), an unemployed saxophonist, a medicine student pianist, a gruff drummer, and an excellent but cocky singer, rehearsals can begin. After the initial questionable results, the group starts to get into gear, and Jimmy manages to organize a concert at the parish center, helped by a music-loving priest. The "first," as expected, begins with a thousand slips caused by the emotion of all the members, but then the audience (the few relatives and friends) lets go and goes wild under the stage. Right in the final crescendo, however, the singer Decko lifts the microphone à la James Brown, hitting the bassist who literally "acts as the grounding mass" and is coursed by a 220-volt electric shock causing him to faint and a blackout in the building.

After various adventures, quarrels, and tensions within the group, the drummer leaves the band and is replaced by a mad furious (who plays the drums like Keith Moon), yet tensions do not subside, the three "uninhibited" girls brawl, the guys are unruly, and the singer still acts all superior. But Jimmy, who is the manager, holds firm, tries to patch things up and brings the group to achieve notable fame in the Irish capital, with city venues filling up every night to see the DUBLIN-SOUL play.

It might seem like a fairytale with a happy ending, but this film is a snapshot of reality, and like every urban story, this one also ends, and the group after a concert fights fiercely and breaks up amidst Jimmy's curses, as he returns home in the rain.

Beyond the beautiful plot, in this film (I obviously speak as a layperson) I'm undoubtedly struck by the careful cinematography and attention to the details of the Dublin atmosphere: in every shot, the bleakness of the city's suburbs stands out, the layabouts with nothing to do from morning to night attracted by any event, the crime revolving around the poorest neighborhoods depict a pessimistic context, but the director shows us that Dublin is indeed a poor city, but also rich in hope, evidenced by hundreds of children seen playing everywhere. Children represent the future of every city, and Dublin's birth rate (the highest in Europe) indicates that it is a young, creative city with the rebellious soul of the street artist.

Perhaps this is the difference from our large Italian cities.

As Jimmy Rabbite said to the band. "The Irish are the blacks of Europe, Dubliners are the blacks of Ireland, and we of the suburbs are the blacks of Dublin. So repeat after me: I'm black and I'm proud of it."