Hunger [Criterion Collection] [Blu-ray]

Director: Steve McQueen Steve McQueen

Overview

"The final months of Bobby Sands, the Irish Republican Army activist who protested his treatment at the hands of British prison guards with a hunger strike, are chronicled in this historical drama, the first feature film from artist-turned-filmmaker Steve McQueen. Davey Gillen (Brian Milligan) is an IRA volunteer who is sentenced to Belfast's infamous Maze prison, where he shares a cell with fellow IRA member Gerry Campbell (Liam McMahon). Like most of the IRA volunteers behind bars, Gillen and Campbell are subjected to frequent violence by the guards, who in turn live with the constant threat of assassination at the hands of Republicans during their off-hours. Campbell and Gillen are taking part in a protest in which they and their fellow IRA inmates are refusing to wear standard prison-issue uniforms as a protest against Britain's refusal to recognize them as political prisoners, a move that is complicating their efforts to pass information among the other prisoners. As the protest fails to get results, one IRA member behind bars, Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender), decides to take a different tack and begins a hunger strike, refusing to eat until Irish officials are willing to acknowledge the IRA as a legitimate political organization. However, while Sands' protest gains the attention both inside prison walls and in the international news, not everyone believes what he's doing is right, and Sands finds himself verbally sparring with a priest (Liam Cunningham) who questions the ethics and effectiveness of the strike. Hunger received its world premiere at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival, where it was screened as part of the Un Certain Regard program."

Product Details

Release Date:	02/16/2010
UPC:	0715515052917
Original Release:	2008
Rating:	NR
Source:	Criterion Collection
Language:	English
Time:	1:36:00
Sales rank:	4,296

Special Features

Video Interviews with McQueen and Actor Michael Fassbender; Short Documentary on the making of Hunger, including Interviews with McQueen, Fassbender, Actor Liam Cunningham, Stuart Graham, and Brian Milligan, Writer Enda Walsh, and Producer Robin Gutch; ; "The Provos' Last Card?," a 1981 episode of the BBC Program Panorama, about the Maze Prison Hunger Strikes and the Political and Civilian reactions across Northern Ireland; ; Trailer; Plus: a Booklet Featuring an Essay by Film Critic Chris Darke

Cast & Crew

Performance Credits

Michael Fassbender	Bobby Sands
Liam Cunningham	Father Moran
Stuart Graham	Ray Lohan
Brian Milligan	Davey
Liam McMahon	Gerry
Helena Bereen	Ray's Mother
Larry Cowan	Prison Guard
Laine Megaw	Mrs. Lohan
Rory Mullen	Priest
Lalor Roddy	William
Karen Hassan	Gerry's Girlfriend
Frank McCusker	The Governor
Leo Abrahams	Composer
David Holmes	Composer

Technical Credits

Steve McQueen

Enda Walsh

Steve McQueen	Director,Screenwriter
Enda Walsh	Screenwriter
Robin Gutch	Producer
Laura Hastings-Smith	Producer
Iain Canning	Executive Producer
Peter Carlton	Executive Producer
Edmund Coulthard	Executive Producer
Linda James	Executive Producer
Jan Younghusband	Executive Producer
Ronan Hill	Sound/Sound Designer
Mervyn Moore	Sound/Sound Designer
Paul Davies	Sound/Sound Designer

Editorial Reviews

One doubts that any feature film could more maturely, passionately, or elegantly evoke the madness and confusion at the heart of the early-'80s IRA conflict than Irish director Steve McQueen's harrowing docudrama Hunger. The film unfurls in 1981, around the tail end of the IRA prisoners' "no wash" strike against the Brits, and dramatizes the martyrdom of Irishman Bobby Sands, champion of a hunger strike within a penitentiary -- and a man who led at least nine of his fellow inmates to the grave in pursuit of unascertained political status. Yet the Sands tale only occupies the second half of the picture. Long before we can identify Sands or follow his crusade, McQueen takes his time to establish the overall atmosphere of the prison and, more importantly, the profound and noble ideas at the core of his film. The deepest truths and insights into McQueen's perspective arrive in an opening sequence, when we observe a British prison employee, Raymond Lohan (Stuart Graham) gazing at himself in the mirror, with a weathered and disillusioned face. Lohan's deep-set, slightly pained eyes aren't eyes that lack a conscience, and his countenance will return to haunt our memories time and again throughout this picture -- likewise, his routine ritual of plunging his bloody, skinned knuckles into warm water to ease the pain. Lohan may be an administrator of brutality (like the other guards, he generates an adequate amount of disdain in the audience, and sympathy toward the prisoners via his brutal actions), but his ability to suffer makes him more human in our eyes -- as does his decision to take flowers to his catatonic mother. Our feelings toward the IRA remain equally balanced; not long after we witness the psychotically violent, perhaps fatal beating of an IRA prisoner (by a uniformed British guard), McQueen interpolates an appalling, sickening act of violence from an IRA terrorist that redefines one's notion of shocking. It comes out of nowhere, unfolds in the sweetest and most benign of locations, and ends with the gunman practically jaunting away merrily, hands in his pockets. The central message is clear: the men on both sides of this fence are neither monsters nor saints. Both the guards and the suffering prisoners have been irrevocably plunged by fate into the same maelstrom of suffering. Curiously, for a drama about the IRA, the first half of the film completely omits ideological argument and an exploration of the political goings-on at the core of this tumult. And that represents a deliberate choice. For the humanistic McQueen, everything within the prison represents complete insanity -- from the fecal matter smeared on the cell walls, to the slop thrown into bedside troughs, to the maggots swarming around one sleeping prisoner's head, to the said beatings. At the heart of everything, the director reminds us, these men are men, who belong to the same human quilt, and the groups have mutually resigned themselves to the same pit of despair and masochism -- making all external conflicts irrelevant when held up next to the film's gut-wrenching plea for sympathy. The picture then shifts gears dramatically at about the 45-minute mark, moving into the Sands story, and in what will go down as one of the most audacious directorial choices of 2008, McQueen commits the film and the audience to a fixed shot and a single take for about 20 minutes. Sands (Michael Fassbender) and a priest, Father Dominic Moran (Liam Cunningham), sit on opposite ends of the same table, dissect the pros and cons of martyrdom, and fire arguments at one another on the progression versus regression of the IRA cause. The scene packs an emotional and intellectual wallop: McQueen fully enables us to grasp (and possibly share) the priest's logic, his die-hard conviction that the notion of a hunger strike is absurd and pointless, and his belief that the IRA is a worthy cause but has lost its original foundation, just as the director explores the logic behind Bobby's rebuttals. The fixed shot is thus valuable for keeping the men equidistant from the audience, and underscoring the ideological balance present in the conversation. The film concludes with long, anatomically detailed, and thoroughly devastating sequences of the prisoner withering away to nothing, yet McQueen laces the scenes with lyrical cutaways to Bobby's childhood, hallucinations that his childhood self is visiting him, and images of birds aloft, that draw out the grace and nobility within the man's soul and recall an identical metaphor in Dreyer's Passion of Joan of Arc. McQueen entitled his picture Hunger, but it just as easily could have been entitled "Equivocation" -- not the equivocation of uncertainty in terms of presentation or approach (nothing could be further from the truth -- every shot here feels perfectly chosen and sustained), but the moral equivocation that results from looking at a multifaceted struggle head-on and realizing that complete empathy with either side, and black-and-white feelings about the logic belying Bobby's final, fatal choices, are virtually impossible without a distortion of the truth. The maturity of this emotionally overwhelming motion picture lies in its patent refusal to paint its characters, situations, or central ideas with broad strokes.