Mike Leigh is one of my favorite directors, which is the only reason that I watched Peterloo, a 2 hour 34 minute (anti-)historical period drama about the events leading up to and during the 1819 Peterloo massacre. Apparently in its time, journalists invented that provocative phrase as a sardonic play on Waterloo, but instead of a battle, yeoman killed a number of unarmed civilians and fellow countrymen in Peter’s Field. Unfortunately that phrase does not evoke the same thing for audiences today. It is nearly an impossible movie to watch for the average moviegoer because in spite of appreciating what Leigh was trying to do, it was difficult for me to watch, and I regularly see foreign films with subtitles that are even longer. Speaking of subtitles, I could have used them initially before I got used to the accents of the characters.
Peterloo is Leigh’s most political movie to date. He has something urgent to say about the need for practical politics and learning from history lest we be forced to repeat it (oops, too late). While I, as an American, am inclined to agree with the spirit of the movie, it is far too didactic to appeal to my heart. The majority of the film consists of speeches or oration even if it is alleged to be an ordinary conversation between people. It is shameless propaganda, but the best propaganda does not feel like what it is. Robert Altman and Sergei M. Eisenstein seemed to inspire Leigh’s narrative as he tries to show every aspect leading up to the massacre, and there are no central characters per se. Other than the well known historical figures, you probably won’t remember many names, just faces.
When I call Peterloo an (anti-)historical drama, I’m not calling it ahistorical because I don’t know enough about that aspect of British history to comment on the accuracy of the depiction of events in this film. When moviegoers go to see a historical drama, there is an expectation that it is a lush costume drama. We usually see the people in grand houses, and when we watch Jane Austen dramas, the soldiers are dashing or dastardly, but always appealing. We drool over the luxury of the upper classes with the servants mute and unconsidered in the background. In one of the best scenes in the movie, a woman asks, “Will I be in the picture,” to her husband painting a portrait of a famous man? He answers, “Nay lass, you shan’t be in the picture,” whereas Leigh furiously says yes in Peterloo to the lass and everyone like her.
Unfortunately the small human moments get entirely swallowed up by the momentous ones, but as an ignorant American, it takes a minute to get one’s bearings. After you get that the wide tapestry of power is paralleled with the powerless, specifically the treatment of a general from the Battle of Waterloo with the treatment of a random, working class, unemployed bugler, the message is quite clear, and Leigh was in desperate need of an intervention to cut a few details. Because I was blessed with patience, coffee and free refills of Coke Zero, I was able to see how he was trying to show, not tell, while simultaneously telling a lot, how each small event in a barely noticed corner of the district began to motivate, accumulate and gain momentum until it touches London then culminates into the largest assembly to date in the Nazareth of the Empire and how remarkable and revolutionary it was at the time.
Leigh does help us (wink, USA, get it, huh) by setting the era in a way that we can understand. He takes great pains to show us how people prepared to literally march or how newspapers operated, but some of the musical interludes felt like a sorely needed intermission. It is set relatively soon after the American and French revolutions, and the King is suffering from mental illness. Even plaintive pleas to the prince are met with horror by the ruling classes. Leigh depicts them as degenerate, deformed, cowardly rulers whereas the people, though humble and not polished, clearly are preferred for their down to earth honesty and earnestness. The soldiers are largely drunken barbarians instead of handsome men in colorful uniform. Even the most leftist, anti-monarchy factions have Leigh’s favor. Leigh wants us to leave questioning anything proposed by the establishment as lies and fruits of conspiracy or negligence. The ruling classes’ worst sin is their mischaracterization of the working class as children or Jacobins. Occasional a member of the ruling class calls for restraint, but is largely ignored and cast aside. If it wasn’t anachronistic, the villains would all have mustaches and twirl them while wringing their hands.
The exception to these polarizing depictions in Peterloo is Henry Hunt, an orator who sides with the working class and is seen as a class traitor because he is a property owner. He is the embodiment of the best of both worlds with his one flaw being his vanity and high-handedness with people whom he probably judged too harshly because of his class biases, but Leigh clearly forgives him because he is the one man whom Leigh shows women feeling appreciated and noticed while he is just being natural and actually just treating them like the men, a detail in the grand scheme of things. Leigh depicts him as a man who could be too brusque because he was so invested in the outcome of the struggle.
The most memorable character aside from Hunt would be his foil, Samuel Bamford, who is introduced early in Peterloo and his relationship with Hunt is the biggest emotional journey taken by any character in the film. Most characters are the same from the beginning to the end of the movie, but the events are what alter their lives. The only genuine main character is a working class family who are spectators with a desperate investment in these unfolding events. Their reaction helps the viewer understand what we should feel since we are supposed to relate to them. Christ is something that is used as somehow siding with each mutually exclusive side (a wealthy magistrate writes a bombastic letter under an ornately framed portrait of Jesus on the cross), but the only Jesus figure in the movie is the matriarch feeding loaves to the masses. Jesus would probably cosign Leigh’s view of Him or at least who is the one who is the best Jesus follower.
Only a few hardcore Leigh fans will be able to endure the grueling length and pedagogical nature of Peterloo, which probably explains why it only lasted a week in theaters. I’m happy that I saw it in the theater because if I was at home with distractions, I probably would not be able to force myself to focus on every detail and may be tempted to give up before the denouement. If you’re interested in politics, democracy or British history, then this movie is must see viewing. It is unforgettable and you will finish it with a greater appreciation of how far that we have come and how the haves’ playbook has not changed that much over the years, but for the rest of Leigh’s potential audience, it is probably his most difficult work, possibly unwatchable outside the theater. It demands your attention, but the characters will be talking at you instead of speaking to you and the lack of nuance, character development or plot as if people only focused on political arguments stands in stark contrast with the way that it feels in reality.
