‘I’ve spoken to the council about your deviant parties...’
It’s weird how some films stick in the public consciousness and some of them don’t. Pride has all the ingredients to be a massive pop culture success. A great cast packed full of national treasures. A heart-warming story that everyone can get behind. Instead, Matthew Wachus’ Pride dropped in 2014 with nary a splash. It’s time for an agonising reappraisal…
Despite heavy scepticism from all parties, a prominent group of gay activists led by Mark Ashton (Ben Schnetzer) combine with a ragtag bunch of Welsh miners in a show of solidarity. The astonishing cast includes but is not limited to Imelda Staunton, Dominic West and Bill Nighy. Indeed, the fact that Nighy himself considers this his best film tells you all you need to know about just how good a movie we are dealing with her. More importantly Paddy Considine also appears. And ever, he is fucking magnificent.
I loved Pride. I loved the story (of which I previously knew nothing about). I loved the genuinely laugh-out-loud script. I loved the homely feel of it all – a bit like Life on Mars at its best. I loved the soundtrack. I didn’t love the bit when an impromptu singalong erupted in a Welsh working men’s club and they all just happened to have stage school standard singing voices (although I suppose they are in Wales and those boys do know how to hold a tune). Petty musical grievances aside however, Pride is a thoroughly joyous cinematic experience. One of those films that surely everyone would enjoy. It deserved Oscars. It deserved plaudits. It certainly deserved better than the limited release that it actually ended up receiving. As a population we should right this wrong. Forget whatever Richard Curtis puts his name to next and revisit Pride instead. It’s a bloody masterpiece.