written by Eoin O'Donnell
For some actors, the unprecedented exposure of an Oscar win (and one of the highest-grossing films of all time) is an onramp to even greater box office heights, leaping from the stage straight into well-paid, high-profile franchises. For Cillian Murphy, it seems, it was a responsibility of sorts to shine a light on more intimate, personal stories and issues facing society.
Following last year's Small Things Like These, an investigation into the horrors of Ireland's mother-and-baby homes, Murphy has again teamed with director Tim Mielants to produce and star in Steve, this time exploring the dereliction of the late-twentieth-century British reform school system.
Structured around a single decisive day at the school, the film's drama is spurred on by a documentary crew shooting a segment that could prove more harmful than good. “Can we turn rotten apples into usable fruit?” asks the presenter about the students, a deliberately combative character with seemingly no thought for the interior lives or struggles of these boys.
Written by and adapted from Max Porter's novella Shy, the film shifts the perspective towards Murphy's titular character, a headmaster who must attempt to tame his students, the system, and his own demons. Speaking at a post-film Q&A, Porter said “every love story is a ghost story”, and this shift allowed him to focus on Steve's love for this school and its pupils, with the characters “haunting themselves” as they move forward through their grief.
Mielants emulates a documentary filmmaking style at first, intercutting the drama with authentic-looking 1990s talking-head interviews with students and staff. As night begins to fall and characters begin to unravel, he indulges in more experimental and surreal imagery, punctuated by angsty, deafening drum & bass.
It's a story about regret and turmoil, inside and out. The film makes no apologies for the sins or flaws of these boys—they're complicated, abrasive and often abusive figures—it just gives us insight into the mind of the faculty who see the good within them. Steve seems to see pieces of himself in student Shy (Jay Lycurgo) and his peers, and you get the impression that, to some extent, his own redemption is reliant on the success of this last-chance experiment.
Steve is by no means an easy watch, lingering in dark headspaces of faculty and students alike, but it's not without its levity. Whilst violent and disruptive, the boys are also intensely funny at times, at the expense of not only their peers but also the adults invading their space, including a memorable scene involving an MP coming to their school to solicit votes (assuming, as he reminds them, they stay out of prison).
It should come as no surprise that Murphy is outstanding, and he's surrounded by a cast that more than measures up to his intensity, even if they don't all get the same depth and interiority. Lycergo is a standout, having beaten out over 3,500 other young actors for what is essentially a co-leading role, and the combative camaraderie between the boys is palpable on-screen. Tracey Ullman is heartbreaking as the matriarchal figure who wants nothing more than to get through to these young men, alongside Emily Watson playing the school's beleaguered therapist.
While it likely won't light the world on fire or garner the acclaim of some of its stars' more recent projects, Steve is the type of film that is hard to find fault with. It's no grand operatic epic, instead focusing on a tense and incredibly effective slice of life in a corner of society often swept under the rug. Some might scoff at the idea of calling a film ‘necessary', but this really does feel like an important story to tell, and one that never lingers long enough to feel like homework.
Steve is available now on Netflix.
