Singer and lyricist of the band The Pogues, Shane MacGowan (1957-2023), Irish national hero and patron saint of drunkards, is remembered for his public self-destructiveness, jagged teeth, ragged but charismatic habitus, massive, troll-like ears, and incoherent, slurred speech, which from time to time might have benefitted from subtitles for comprehension. But Julien Temple’s stylish biopic dives beneath the surface of this image and unveils a sensitive, sophisticated, good-hearted, gruff, and quick-witted rascal, whose art is centered around the migrant experiences of the people of the Green Isle.
Shane is depicted with a drink in hand, looking back on his years of debauchery in one moment and calling compatriot W.B Yeats a wanker in the next. Among his conversational partners we see his friend Johnny Depp, who also took part in the production of the film. The joyfully rambunctious chatter does not, however, obscure the fact verified by the amazing live footage, that MacGowan in his prime was a brilliant musician and among the most charismatic leading figures of what we may call Celtic punk. Though we may shake our heads at the moral decadence unfolding before the cameras, ultimately at the heart of the film is a warm and boozy ode to life.
Lauri Timonen