violence was never intentional. It all just
went wrong on the day. It wasn’t a turning
point in British history. It also wasn’t fol-
lowed by a revolution, although, to my way
of thinking that may be because seeing fam-
ily members butchered by sabres in front
of your eyes is quite a deterrent. Perhaps it
changed history in that way. But that’s a dis-
cussion for another time. My hope was that
it would be so absorbing and moving and
affecting that you couldn’t wriggle out of it,
any which way. Yet it’s none of those things.
It opens on the battlefield of Waterloo
with Joseph (David Moorst), a young soldier
wandering around in a state of shock. The
film cuts to Parliament where we see the
Duke of Wellington being amply reward-
ed for the victory, but there is nothing for
Joseph when he returns to his family in
Manchester. There is only worsening pover-
ty. ‘It’ll be them Corn Laws,’ it is noted, help-
fully. You keep waiting for the script to get
good — this is Mike Leigh; it’s bound to get
good soon — but it never does. ‘Aye, and the
bread tax t’aint helpful,’ says Joseph’s moth-
er (Maxine Peake) at one point. ‘It’s helping
them rich buggers... them fat leeches down
London,’ replies his father (Pearce Quig-
ley). Meanwhile, poor Joseph, who has been
traumatised, is left to wander about further,
slack-jawed and lopsided, looking for work
that doesn’t exist, usually in the rain. There
is no proper character work at all.
The populist movement gathers pace,
understandably. At that time Manchester
didn’t even have an MP. This offers a large
cast, mostly led by shouty men, to have
shouty meetings in fields and in factories
and in parlours and in pubs. Meanwhile,menacing Deputy Chief Constable Nadin
(Victor McGuire) eavesdrops in plain view.
(I sniggered out loud about this; why didn’t
they notice the great hulking brute?) The
meetings do not build to a momentum but
simply repeat what has already been said
while you glaze over. Ultimately, they invite
Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt (Rory Kinnear) to be
their star speaker at the main event. Hunt
is vain, superior, a wealthy landowner. He’s
by far the most interesting character and I
wanted to know: why is he even a reformer?
What makes him tick? We never find out.
Meanwhile, in London, the Home Sec-You keep waiting for the script
to get good – this is Mik e Leigh,
it’s bound to get good soonretary Lord Sidmouth (Karl Johnson) is
getting worried about all the unrest, as are
the local magistrates. The French Revolu-
tion is uppermost in their thoughts, as we’re
reminded again and again. The local mag-
istrates say things like ‘the rod is all they
understand!’ and ‘one man one vote... pre-
posterous!’ It was like being trapped in an
episode of Poldark. I kept half-hoping Dem-
elza would drift in with one of her kidney
pies and give us all a break.
The violence, when it comes, is, in fact,
marvellously mounted, and vivid and vis-
ceral, but you’re so sapped of energy by
then you may not be able to do justice to the
injustice in any meaningful, emotional way.
Throughout, I was most preoccupied by the
teeth. Bad for the poor. Less bad for the rich.
But would the rich have had access to dif-
fering dentistry at that time? I can only say
that neither instance prevents the cast from
chewing the scenery.
David Bamber even pops up in the last
few minutes just to chew the scenery, or so it
seemed. This is simplistic, one-dimensional
storytelling that fails to deliver the outrage
it should, or the story it could have been. I
sincerely wish it were otherwise, but there
you are.A large cast is mostly led by shouty men, who lead shouty meetings: Mike Leigh’s Peterloo