In Northeast England, the residents of a once proud mining town, Durham, commiserate together at The Old Oak, the last pub in town, run by TJ Ballantyne (Dave Turner).  As the economy in the town dwindles since the mines have been closed, so do housing prices, and it becomes a popular spot for remote landlords to buy up and rent properties to recently immigrated Syrian refugees seeking to set roots in their new home.  Many of the old timers do not take warmly to their new neighbors, but when TJ and Yara (Elba Mari) open up the back room of the pub to serve fresh and hot meals to anyone who needs it, the town needs to reckon with their own prejudices whether they are ready to or not. 

Ken Loach premiered The Old Oak at the 2023 edition of the Cannes Film Festival where it secured US distribution from Zeitgeist Films and Kino Lorber.  Paul Laverty penned what is allegedly Loach’s final film, a 113-minute, documentary-minded, searing indictment of xenophobia while also serving as a celebration of community. It is a tender examination of a town in crisis that pulls its audience in to learn and grow with its characters in a way that only Loach can continually manage to do in a way that is both firm and gentle so we do not feel like we are being scolded but that we are being allowed to grow. 

The film is constantly circling conflict, yet neither side seems ready to boldly commit to their ideals so the narrative at times does feel stagnant.  On one side are Yara and the other refugees trying to assimilate while not totally giving up their identity, and on the other are the longtime residents who have a bit of a louder bark about them, but they are almost always operating in a fear-informed, reactionary way.  TJ, then, is stuck in the middle, trying to keep his pub afloat by catering to his long-term patrons, while also trying to make sure the refugees feel welcome in their new homes.  It all comes to a head when TJ, after making excuses to Charlie (Trevor Fox) about why he can not open the back room up for a town hall-style meeting so that the locals can air their grievances at will, gives in to Yara and Laura’s (Claire Rodgerson) request to utilize that same space as a free meal hall for the community as it had been used for in the past during the miner’s strikes.   

Serving up chicken fingers, french fries, and pizza, Babette’s Feast (1987) or Big Night (1996) this is not, but Robbie Ryan’s lens pans across the humble room in the simplest way possible and still manages to show the power that coming together over a meal has on a community no matter how big or small.  When The Old Oak is focusing on togetherness, it is at its strongest, but the kumbaya tone is constantly interrupted by Charlie and his pals’ nagging.  Their thinly veiled and tired arguments are barely considered by Laverty and Loach, but because the film is insistent on showing conflict, it all feels rather loose and underdeveloped.  Laverty brushes up against the notion that Charlie et al. should refocus their ire not on the refugees but on their government, which has failed them, but much of the narrative instead opts for petty racism; though, to be fair to the screenwriter, this same pattern is oft repeated in real life, too. Humanity ultimately prevails as the refugees present TJ with a traditional banner and the wider community slowly begins to accept their new neighbors, realizing that their struggles may seem different at first, but they are actually not all that different from each other. Everyone is just trying to make a good life for themselves and their families. 

There is a second plot that helps frame the film in the background and that is the unknown fate of Yara’s father who, for those who cling to the hope that he is not dead, remains missing back home. Eventually, news makes it to Durham that her father’s body has been recovered and as the family grieves with the rest of the refugee families, the other Durhamites begin to make their way out with flowers and other condolences for the widow and her children. It wraps the film up in a feel-good way that leaves audiences optimistic; Durham is a community not unlike many and if they can come together for the greater good, then maybe we can, too, in our own communities. Even without the full narrative support behind this plot line, Laverty was extremely economical in his delivery, so we still feel the weight of the loss heavy on our hearts and the warm embrace of the community coming together. 

The Old Oak, despite its haste when contending with themes, is still a success in what it is trying to do. It does, however, leave audiences wanting more, but unfortunately not in the way that a good film leaves us hungry. Loach and Laverty feel like they are taking the easy route here with the narrative and not setting up scenarios that really dig into the characters’ consciences and force them to reckon with their own preconceived notions and beliefs. Bolstered by very humanist performances from the largely first-time cast, it is working predominantly in a black-and-white moral plane that does little to challenge the people of Durham and even less to challenge us in the audience. Loach may not be as overt of a provocateur as, say, Asghar Farhadi, Paul Schrader, or Paul Verhoeven, but he is capable of much more than he delivers here and it would be a shame for him to go out on such a middling – albeit, heartfelt – piece.