Starring: Crissy Rock, Vladimir Vega
Opens mid-October at: Kino Cinemas
Rating: ***
WITH LADYBIRD Ladybird director Ken Loach has cast aside what little tongue-in-cheek he has acquired in recent years, ruthlessly driving home truths he once addressed with a lighter hand, at least in his last two films, Riff Raff and Raining Stones. Though identical in theme, Ladybird looks at the lives of the lower classes in Britain through a dark glass indeed, examining the cycles of abuse and the impotent mechanics of the social welfare system that perpetuate the circumstances of the underprivileged.
Loach has always given us a grim look at the underbelly of Britain that many would prefer to ignore, but this time there is little humour to temper the tale. The fact that Ladybird is based on a true story may be the reason, and in depicting this story of one woman's suffering Loach has delivered the final blow to down Thatcherism, TKO.
Ladybird follows the life of one woman whose children are taken from her repeatedly by the social services division, ostensibly in "the best interests of all parties involved". Caught in a series of abusive relationships, Maggie (Crissy Rock) possesses a fiery temper and a self-esteem that borders on nil - a fact illustrated by her series of violent partners and her tendency to release a torrent of verbal abuse at the slightest provocation. By the time she meets Jorge (Vladimir Vega) she has already lost four children to the government, and her hopes of building a new life with the gentle Jorge are crushed and twisted by the past that comes back to haunt her.
At this stage Ladybird seems more like a three-razor blade than a three-hanky film, but the burgeoning relationship between Jorge and Maggie adds enough warmth to keep the spirits up, if only just.
Though deeply disturbing, Ladybird still manages to run the gamut of emotions - Loach is a master at allowing his actors to become their characters fully, and the result is a complete immersion in Loach's Britain, like it or not.
And in fact, there are moments when Maggie is most unlikeable - had she any amount of self-control, much of what happens to her would never occur. At times she seems as "intellectually incompetent" as the courts find her, until one remembers the vice-like grip under which a damaged mind is forced to operate. It is her gradual (if incomplete at the film's finish) transformation from victim to responsible human being that gives Ladybird a glimmer of hope.
Cross is superb in an unquestionably exhausting role, successfully sustaining the tension between the internal and the external forces at work in Maggie's life. As the patient and supportive Jorge, Vega has a softening influence, giving the relationship a real poignancy as Jorge puts his considerable troubles aside to build a sanctuary for the both of them and the children they hope to raise.
Ladybird is excruciating to watch at times, as Maggie and Jorge's world crashes in repeatedly and the knowledge that the film is based on fact makes it all the more painful viewing. But though it lacks a light-hearted touch, it does bear the warmth of a film made from the heart, Loach-style.