A strike at the system

Consuming faith, discharging it and absorbing it: All of these play an integral thematic role in Britiish director Steve McQueen’s 2008 film, Hunger, which is now showing at Portland State’s 5th Avenue Cinema.

Hunger takes the audience inside the walls of a corrupt prison system in 1981 Britain, navigating through various strikes, revealing close and personal images of the power systems at play and the overall squalor the prison holds its captives in.

The story details the experiences of Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender), the leader of the 1981 hunger strike protesting the removal of special-category status for Irish Republican Army prisoners within the system.

While the subject matter is bleak and the film hard to watch because of its content and occasionally shocking imagery, the filmmaking and performances entrance the viewer with their composure, the striking use of color (or lack thereof) and symbolic images that tie thematic elements together in the final, climactic scenes.

As Hunger begins, prison guard Raymond Lohan (Stuart Graham) is seen rinsing his hands—his fingers swollen and the skin of his knuckles split from brutal abuse of inmates—in a pale white sink, the water subtly hued to a pinkish tint.

Raymond eats breakfast and crumbs fall down his apron and onto the floor, symbolic of the atrocities that follow later in the film. McQueen’s use of symbolism, camera angles, blurry shots and a minimalistic score all allow the viewer a sensory experience that not only fits the circumstances but makes for clever and beautiful filmmaking.

While the dialogue is minimalistic, the actors do a lot with what little they say. Fassbender and Graham both exhibit their conviction, candor and cadence in a few spare conversations.

The brunt of the film’s dialogue occurs in one 17-minute sequence in which Bobby and a priest in his confidence discuss the meaning of the planned hunger strike and whether the strike constitutes suicide or martyrdom. As their conversation continues, religion emerges as a major issue in the film.

Within the confines of a prison cell—walls painted with feces, urine soaking the floor, insurmountable piles of food and human waste in the corners—pages from the Bible are torn out and rolled into cigarettes, burned or used for small messages hidden within bodily cavities.

While Hunger is beautifully made, it’s worth noting that the subject matter is not for the faint of heart. On several occasions, prisoners are seen defecating on themselves and using their feces to decorate the walls of their cells during a no-wash protest in support of what eventually evolves into the hunger strike.

The prison guards repeatedly and relentlessly beat the inmates with batons before submitting them to invasive cavity searches and blatant defamation of human dignity. Urine pools around the main walkway of the prison, and the pan system requires prisoners to urinate in pans within their cells and expel them into the hallways at the end of the day.

The prison’s leaders frequently take unchecked invasive and perverse measures throughout the film, guiding the viewer through the impetus for the hunger strike that is the film’s climax.

Hunger is particularly striking in that McQueen’s direction really puts the viewer in the position of the inmates. While care is given to let the audience in on the guards’ experiences, the film relies more on informing the viewer of the state of things through the eyes of those held captive.

There are no bright colors throughout much of the film—neutrals and darkness pervade the senses with a schema that can only be described as desolate. Emotional sequences in which a single tear is all it takes to convey a poignant message are presented at length, showcasing the talent of the performers even further within the dire context of this film.

While Hunger is informative, historical and utterly riveting, this movie is not for everybody.

Weak stomachs and sensitive psyches will not make for a pleasant viewing of McQueen’s film. Disgust and squalor are Hunger’s major themes, and those who are especially sensitive to the human experience in such conditions will have a difficult time wading through this piece.

Though Hunger moves slowly, it’s worth the wait—for those who can stomach it.