The Wind That Shakes the Barley Page #2

Synopsis: In 1920, rural Ireland is the vicious battlefield of republican rebels against the British security forces and Irish Unionist population who oppose them, a recipe for mutual cruelty. Medical graduate Damien O'Donovan always gave priority to his socialist ideals and simply helping people in need. Just when he's leaving Ireland to work in a highly reputed London hospital, witnessing gross abuse of commoners changes his mind. he returns and joins the local IRA brigade, commanded by his brother Teddy, and adopts the merciless logic of civil war, while Teddy mellows by experiencing first-hand endless suffering. When IRA leaders negotiate an autonomous Free State under the British crown, Teddy defends the pragmatic best possible deal at this stage. Damien however joins the large seceding faction which holds nothing less than a socialist republic will do. The result is another civil war, bloodily opposing former Irish comrades in arms, even the brothers.
Genre: Drama, War
Director(s): Ken Loach
Production: IFC First Take
  6 wins & 23 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.5
Metacritic:
82
Rotten Tomatoes:
88%
NOT RATED
Year:
2006
127 min
$1,779,320
Website
3,371 Views


I will support and defend

the Government of the Irish Republic,

which is Dail Eireann, against

all enemies, foreign and domestic,

and I will bear true faith

and allegiance to the same,

and I take this obligation freely,

without any mental reservation

or purpose of evasion."

"So help me, God."

- I'm glad to have you with us.

- Thank you, Finbar.

- Steady Boy.

- Well done, Damien boy.

Leo, thank you.

- Good to have you, Damien.

- Good to have you, Damien.

- I knew you wouldn't get that train.

- Did you, now?

Because I would've kicked your arse

if you had.

Where's the rest

of that shaggin' section?

Move, you...

I have him. I have him. I have him.

Right sections, hollow square.

Section Two, facing me. Come on.

Section One, along here.

Ned, Aidan, Sean,

Damien, Paul, Vince,

Richard, Dennis, Pat, down.

Why are they down?

Why are they down, lads?

- Dead.

- Dead. That's right.

I estimate half the column just died.

Everyone down.

If we lose half this column,

it's not readily replaceable.

The Brits see you,

they're going to kill you,

the Brits catch you,

they're going to kill you.

Rory.

Did you see our position when you

came over the crest of that hill?

You did not. You were looking down

at your shoes,

trying to pick your way through

the mud and keep your shoes clean.

There'll be clean shoes on your corpse.

You also, cos it's your responsibility,

led your men into open ground.

You didn't use the natural cover.

It's on your shoulders

and I don't want to see it again.

We're only saying this

to keep you alive.

All I need is the size of a packet

of fags. Only that size.

I've got fags.

Chris, come here. One second.

Packet of fags. See that rock down

there with four white spots on it?

Put that on top of it. There's fags

in that now. I want them back. Go on.

Look, listen and learn.

Over to the left now, Chris boy.

Direct hit!

You've wrecked your fag box!

Good man.

- Hi, lads.

- Sinead.

Bang on time. We're not long here.

What have you got for us, Sinead?

- Some fags for Steady Boy.

- Thanks very much, Sinead.

- Want any?

- No.

That's from Finbar, Teddy.

- Jesus, it's the barracks.

- We're going to hit the barracks?

- Which town is it?

- A detailed map of the building.

I was almost caught

on the way over to you.

They stopped you?

Yeah, a few miles back.

- Were there many?

- Eight or nine.

- Did you get a fright?

- I'm grand.

- Listen, we'll let you go.

- Mind yourself, girl.

Good luck, Sinead.

Sinead? Sinead?

How are things at home?

They're not the best.

- It's been tough on us all.

- I know.

How are you yourself?

Jesus, Damien.

I can still hear his voice.

I have something here for you.

It's Micheail's

St Christopher's medal.

And I know that he really looked up

to you, so I'd like you to have it.

Thank you.

I'll be thinking of you.

Sh*t!

Hey, you down there!

What do you think you're doing?

D Been a wild rover

d Through many's the year

d And I've spent all my money

on whiskey and beer

d And it's no nay never

d No nay never no more

- Shut your...

- Jesus!

Get down! Get down! Get down!

Get down, you ugly bastard!

Hands above your heads.

- Get up and face the wall.

- Against the wall.

Eyes straight ahead.

The King doesn't want

any heroes tonight. Now shut up.

Stand there, lad.

Right, men. Back here, please.

Understand this. You are now seen

as traitors to your nation.

If I hear one more report of any

of our boys falling down your stairs,

you'll be shot. Is that clear?

This is your final warning.

Right, men, load them up.

You face forward.

Come on, lads, move it on.

Come on now. Hurry up.

Keep your mouth shut,

if you know what's good for you.

It's not as easy as it looks.

- Shot, Teddy lad.

- Shot.

22... 22-16.

Listen in. Five minutes, lads,

and you're off the table.

Right, lads, get on this side

of the table now! Move!

Come on, move your arse!

Get in line now!

Eyes down, arms up. Move!

Come on. You're all a sack of shite,

the lot of you.

You cretinous crap. You piece

of sh*t. Look at you! Arms up.

Don't eyeball me. Keep them up!

We done here, lads?

A pound a day, lads. A pound a day.

That's what they're paying

them bastards.

- Is that right?

- Yeah.

Our pounds out of our pockets

to pay for that swagger.

Handpicked, they were, by a personal

friend of that bollocks, Churchill.

F***ing bastard.

So we can expect what the Boers got,

can we?

The very same, yeah.

Friend of the worker.

Faster, faster. Come on.

Dear God.

Shh.

You're no oil painting.

Get their guns. Move!

Move!

Come on, Damien, go!

Go, go, go!

Take the end house!

Go, go, go!

Don't f***ing move.

There's no one here. There's no men.

- Where's the men?

- There's no one here.

Stay still!

- Spread your legs.

- Get your hands above your head.

Leave him alone! Leave him alone!

- Open your legs.

- Get down. Stay there.

Stop f***ing around

or we'll take you out.

- Hello, Bill.

- Good morning, John.

- May I introduce Captain Harris?

- Captain Harris. Do come through.

- Bill, it's good to see you.

- Lovely to see you.

- Good morning, Julia.

- Good morning, sir.

- Is Chris milking the cows?

- He is.

Chris!

Chris? Sir John wants to see you.

Sir John wants to see you.

The soldiers are with him.

- Should I take a run for it?

- No. They have the place surrounded.

Come along.

They're in there.

- Must I go in?

- Go on, knock.

Come in.

Oh, Reilly.

Come in. Come in.

Come in.

I'd get the carpet dirty,

mud on my boots, sir.

That's the least of your worries.

Come over here.

Tell these gentlemen where you were

last Friday, the day of the ambush.

I was at my uncle's funeral.

- Which uncle?

- He lives far away.

- Where, Reilly?

- Clare.

- You don't have an uncle in Clare.

- I do, sir.

Don't lie to me.

We paid a little visit to your mother

in her lovely little cottage.

- She never mentioned a funeral.

- You don't have to go to my mother.

Stop lying, Reilly,

and stop wasting our time

or I'll see to it personally that

your mother and your family suffer!

My family's nothing to do with it, sir.

We know you know Teddy O'Donovan.

Yes, you do.

Oh, yeah,

didn't see him in a while, actually.

Well, we will find him,

with or without you.

Psst!

Oi. Get down! Shut up!

Give me your rifle.

Give me your f***ing rifle

before I blow your brains out.

I'll blow your f***ing brains out.

Tell me where they are.

Wake up, you Irish bastards!

Get down, you dirty f***ing scum!

Get in there! Go! Go!

Filthy Irish scum.

Kevin?

- We're f***ed, Teddy!

- Kevin! You're grand. Let me look.

- I'm alright.

- Hold it up.

He's alright.

It's just a nick, Kevin.

It'll stop the bleeding, alright?

Look at me. Just keep your head back.

Hold that there. Jesus.

- Did they pick you up together?

- Yeah.

Do I know you, do I?

You're the train driver.

Remember, on the platform,

you wouldn't let the Tans on the train?

- You're the doctor?

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Paul Laverty

Paul Laverty (born 1957) is a Scottish lawyer and scriptwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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