Restless Natives and Local Heroes

Scottish Movies that Defined and Reflected a Lost Generation

“It’s six o’clock in the tower blocks. Stalagmites of culture shock.” - Heart of Lothian - Marillion.

I’ve never been much of a nationalist.

Like most people in the western world, my DNA is made up of an amalgamation of different peoples, races and cultures. Recently, my parents were from Viking and Irish stock, with my dad always telling me the only reason his family moved to Scotland in the first place was to escape the authorities after they had been caught stealing sheep! So, a mixed bag really.

Ultimately, the thought of swearing fealty to a bit of material with things printed on it, or to a land mass populated with people that have entirely different beliefs to me, had always seemed a bit odd.

Be loyal to your friends and family is where I come from. And that’s it. Too often, around the world, nationalist fervour has become rabid with dangerous and tragic consequences.

However, with all that being said, it’s hard not to be angered when you look back on the history of Scotland.

For centuries this country, in a very similar manner to our cousins in Ireland, has been used as a military, political or religious punch bag in an ongoing battle for the control and identity of it’s people.

Much has been made of Scotland’s dim and distant past when it comes to great heroes like William Wallace, Robert the Bruce, or famous battles like Bannockburn or Culloden. All these figures and places are shrouded in the mists of legends passed down from generation to generation.

Robert the Bruce

However, when I was growing up, some of the biggest upheavals came not on the battlefield or at the point of a sword, but at the ballot box, and from politicians who took personal vendettas against a country and it’s population.

In 1979 a devolution referendum was held in Scotland to see if there was sufficient support for a Scottish Assembly. The Scottish people voted in favour of devolution, but did not meet the minimum turnout rules stipulated by the UK governing Labour party so the motion was defeated. Shortly afterwards a vote of no confidence was held in the government and, at the subsequent general election, Margaret Thatcher’s Conservative party won to take control of Parliament. I was seven at the time so don’t remember it too well but certainly know what came after.

Thatcher set about a rampant de-industrialisation program that caused Scotland, a nation that once prided itself on it’s heavy industry, to lose around a third of it’s manufacturing capacity by the end of the 1980’s. Unemployment soared, communities were destroyed and lives ruined. The deprivation and despair that sprung up was routinely ignored by the government and blamed on malcontents who didn’t want to work and just wanted to leach off the state. The central belt of the country became filled with ghost towns or crime infested “schemes” with a large majority of the population trapped and losing hope. All based on a political ideology, and in the knowledge that Scotland had never voted for the Conservatives anyway, so they weren’t losing any votes because of this. Even forty years later, in many parts of the country, the scars still run deep and that Prime Minister and party will never be forgiven for what they did.

As always, at times like these, art reflected real life. Bands like Simple Minds, Skids, The Proclaimers and Big Country sang angry songs that mixed their political messaging into the lyrics.

Likewise, in TV the grimness of everyday living was reflected in dark detective shows like Taggart or even comedies like Rab C Nesbitt which, as they showed real life, I tended to avoid as they were so depressing, and stick to my favourites like The A-Team and Airwolf but you did get the odd gem like Tutti Frutti with Robbie Coltrane, that accepted the bleakness of Glasgow in the 80’s but also tried to alleviate it with the stories of a struggling rock and roll band.

There was not a lot a great deal of filmmaking going on in Scotland in the 80’s. When, supposedly, there wasn’t enough money in the economy to give school kids a bottle of milk in the morning, then creating make believe was probably not high on anyone’s agenda. Again, most people wanted to get their escape from whatever was coming over from the US and the usual blockbusters, Star Wars and Rocky etc, were filling out the cinemas.

However, at the same time, one man was on a mission to try and lightly reflect the problems the country was facing, but also bring a little levity and magic to a dire situation.

Between 1980 and 1984, Bill Forsyth made four movies, two of which are now considered classics of Scottish cinema.

“This was the late 70’s. There was huge unemployment in Glasgow, heavy industries closing and strikes. The city wasn’t looking or feeling it’s best. It didn’t feel right to ask these kids to make a fluffy fantasy in Cumbernauld. I thought, let’s make something a bit more real and we’ll show the world that.”

His first film was “That Sinking Feeling” which was made on a tiny budget with members of Glasgow Youth Theatre. It concerns a bunch of unemployed teenagers in Glasgow who set out to steal a bunch of sinks and try to sell them to make some money. Naturally giving the subject matter the movie is a wee bit grimmer than what was to follow from Forsyth, but still optimistic, and it opened doors for him to get the funding and move on to bigger things. And the two films that followed are still thought of as the best the country has produced.

Gregory’s Girl (1981) had always been the movie he had wanted to make, but when he was starting out it probably wasn’t the easiest sell. Now, with the cast from his previous film, he was able to push on and create, what I think, is his best film.

Gregory’s Girl

It’s a wonderfully bittersweet romantic coming of age story which concerns Gregory (John Gordon Sinclair) who is a socially awkward teenager playing for the school football team. They’re rubbish and hold trials to see if they can find better players. Dorothy (Dee Hepburn) shows up and is by far the best player and, despite the protestations of the manager, gets in the team. More importantly, Gregory falls for her and tries everything he can to get a date with their new star player.

The film still takes a very little touch on reflecting the culture and society in Scotland at the time, but does show the countries love for football and the sheer daftness of teenage boys. It was a huge success and gave Forsyth the exposure to make his next film on a much more global scale.

I should make it clear that Local Hero (1983), his next film, is one of my absolute favourites. It’s warm, charming and witty. But, just like a modern day Brigadoon, it was, for most people living in Scotland in the 1980’s, a fairy tale.

The discovery of North Sea oil in the 1960’s with production beginning in the 1970’s brought economic joy to many in the north of Scotland, with terminals built in Aberdeen creating employment and wealth for those involved in the industry. However, even here there was very much a two tiered structured to the distribution of funds brought in, with those on the outside not sharing in the areas new found prosperity. By the 80’s it was a booming industry and close links had been formed between the US and UK governments to expand the business.

Burt Lancaster in Local Hero

And this is where we pick up the story in Local Hero. An American oil company representative, Mac (Peter Riegert), who is obsessed with work and material wealth, is sent by his boss Felix Happer (Burt Lancaster!) to a remote Scottish village to persuade the residents to sell up so Happer can build his new oil refinery on the land and capitalise on the rush of North Sea oil.

Of course, over time, this hard-hearted capitalist is not only won over by the quirky locals including the local hotelier (Dennis Lawson), his lovely wife Stella (Jennifer Black) and makes friends with the refinery’s researcher (Peter Capaldi in a very early role), but he also embraces the spectacular landscape all around him that wins his heart as the aurora borealis and shooting stars light up the night sky. He soon comes to realise, with the help of the wonderful Fulton Mackay who plays the beach living Ben, that despite the deal making all the residents incredibly wealthy, it might not be the right thing to do.

A whole lot of scenery

Watching it now, it seems a wistful treat, albeit with a more prescient warning about despoiling nature and the damage that can be done to the environment, but forty years ago it would either be taken as a welcome relief from the day to day hardships real people were suffering, or as ridiculous fantasy seeing the villagers celebrating becoming millionaires overnight when most hard working people were struggling to put food on the table.

There is a hint of reality in one of the conversations Mac has with the fishermen catching lobsters bound for the fancy restaurants of London and Paris, even though they can’t afford to eat them, but that’s about it.

All the cast are good value but the scenes with Lancaster and Mackay, framed by the admittedly stunning scenery, add to the magical, other worldly atmosphere as they discuss the stars whilst sitting in a beach hut listening to the waves.

And, of course, there is the rightly famous soundtrack by Mark Knopfler which perfectly captures this sense of wonder and beguilement that Mac is feeling.

Local Hero is a great movie, but one that I think is surpassed by a film that few people have heard of (although more than you might think as we’ll see later), never mind seen. It came out in 1985 and perfectly captured the mood of a people angry at being surrounded by beauty but struggling to get out the gutter.

“I will be with them

In the summer sun and the winter snow

They will come and clouds will go

And show that we are proud again” - Big Country

Restless Natives (1985) is the story of Will (Vincent Friell) and Ronnie (Joe Mullaney) who are two teenagers, living in a housing scheme in Edinburgh, fed up with their lack of prospects at home and work. Will is a street sweeper on an endless quest to tidy up after slobbish people and Ronnie works in a joke shop serving obnoxious kids. They desperately need something to make their grim lives seems worthwhile.

Ronnie comes up with the idea of robbing tourist buses on the highland roads disguised as The Clown and the Wolfman on his spluttering motorbike. Will is initially reticent to do “bad things” but eventually goes along when Ronnie promises him that no one will get hurt.

The Clown and the Wolfman

As their criminal careers take off, they become notorious for being the polite highwaymen and this eventually leads them to be folk heroes to the population looking for hope and inspiration. Their reputations are further enhanced when they drive around Edinburgh and throw the stolen money to the homeless and needy in the street whilst being hopelessly pursued by the police. So, they are seen as modern day Robin Hood’s.

However, things get more complicated when Will falls for Margot (Terri Lally) who is a tour guide on one of the buses, and Ronnie gets involved with proper villains. Can they keep up with their nefarious lifestyle and avoid being arrested by the cops or drawn into something much darker?

“Guns are for lassies! No one seems to put the boot in anymore!”

There are many similarities between this and Forsyth’s work.

Once again, Scotland, in all it’s tattered glory, has never looked better. But this time, there are crucial differences.

As Will and Ronnie look out of their high rise block of flats, which were these blights on the landscape into which the poor and needy were funnelled for the government to forget about them and became warrens of drug abuse and destitution, they look up onto the wonders of Edinburgh Castle and the Scott monument in all their glory and the contrast here is clear.

This isn’t about “mountains and rivers and bonnie Morag and roamin in the gloamin” as Billy Connolly once famously complained amid the “singing shortbread tin” view of Scotland. This focussed on the forgotten people that no one saw when they took in all the famous sites on their safe and sanitised tours.

Unlike Local Hero and even Gregory’s Girl, there’s a hard nosed edge here amongst the sorrow and wistfulness. A look back to what Scotland has lost and how it can get back to where it wants to be. And, clearly to Will and Ronnie, that’s about becoming more than just petty robbers. It’s about becoming a symbol of rebellion against their circumstances.

On one of the hold ups, to stop the bus, they plant a massive pile of dung in the middle of the road with a model of Thatcher’s head on top of it reflecting the hatred within the country for this toxic government.

As Ronnie sits talking, with the looming grey tower block behind him, to an unknown grave, taking the place of long lost parents, Will recites poetry to his girlfriend about the heroes of the past as the film mixes the grim reality of their situation and showing that, amongst the despair, there is still hope.

Will and Ronnie make a plan

The great thing about Scottish people is that, even in the worst of times, they can still have a laugh about most things. And here the humour is absolutely perfectly played. Be it one of the elderly tourists trying to recognise a picture of the Wolfman from movie stills and declaring, “No, he looked more like the Lon Chaney one,” to the policeman walking into the joke shop and making the guys think they’ve been rumbled only to say one of the great comic punchlines in movie history, there are so many laugh out loud moments that you forget only to find again on a re-watch.

Ned Beatty playing a mean American cop who tries to apprehend our heroes and Bernard Hill as Will’s grumpy dad both give excellent support even if Hill’s accent is ever so slightly wobbly. And, there’s a number of wonderful deadpan kids who are neither impressed with our crooks or threatened by the cops trying to track them down. It’s a wonderful ensemble that is heart-warmingly familiar to the real people of Scotland.

Restless Natives

There are stories from set that in the scene when all the fake money is being thrown to the crowd, opportunistic youngsters went around and collected all the £20 notes and tried to buy sweets with them. Only to discover, unfortunately for them, that the notes contained the picture of Boy George and not The Queen.

And then, of course, is the brilliant soundtrack by Big Country. At once anthemic but also capturing the essence of lost pride and rebellious spirits. Like Knopfler’s title track for Local Hero, it doesn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer and tell you how to feel, but rather runs alongside the film and becomes part of the narrative as it’s own character. It’s all wonderful stuff.

Many year later when the director, Michael Hoffman, was asked about the film’s legacy he told stories of how James McAvoy and Gerard Butler wanted to work with him as Restless Natives was their favourite film growing up. Maybe not surprising coming from two Scots, but when he went to a Hollywood party he found the movie’s charm had worked even outside it’s own country.

“When I was trying to talk Jack Black into doing a project, he told me at the end that he had taken our meeting because Restless Natives was his favourite film and he wanted to remake it.”

Fortunately, as much as I like Jack Black, we never got to see that remake, but just recently Restless Natives was turned into a stage musical which had a brief run earlier this year so it’s clear that there are still fans out there who love these two rogues and their daring adventures.

It’s unclear whether Irvine Welsh was a fan of the movie, but he based his largely autobiographical story of five working class heroin addicts and how they cope with day to day life in the squalor and hopelessness that surrounds them in same deprived areas of Edinburgh where he grew up. These characters could almost be the depressingly obvious end point for those kids we saw in Restless Natives.

Choose Life?

Trainspotting, a caustic rage scream of a book, was a huge hit when it was released in 1993, selling over one million copies in the UK alone, and was voted the tenth greatest novel of the 20th century in a Waterstones poll.

Three years later, Danny Boyle adapted the book for the big screen and it became an even bigger phenomenon, landing as it did right in the middle of the “Cool Britannia” movement with it’s pounding soundtrack once again using songs to reflect what was happening on screen.

I was 21 when the book came out and 24 when the movie was released so the perfect age to really “get” the story and understand the message they were trying to tell whilst being swept along by the gritty coolness of it all. They became the must see or read items for years afterwards, but, the truth is, I really didn’t like either of them.

Of course, it had darkly funny moments but the bleakness was really overwhelming and just became too much. To me, it completely missed what had made Restless Natives such a classic.

Yes, there is poverty and hardship which lead to desperate solutions but there was also joy, love and hope that tomorrow will be better. Trainspotting was just wrapped in a grim blanket of endless despair.

And that’s why I’ll always come back to Restless Natives rather than Trainspotting. It may be a bit twee and wistful but it shows that in this country there is strength and hope to fight back against anyone that tries to take away those dreams of a fairer future for everyone. A fight that is still going on to this day.

Renton may think he’s right when he says it’s “shite being Scottish” and when he rants that we’re the “lowest of the low” but I’ll respectfully disagree. I’m not really sure what being Scottish is, but maybe if we look back to the heroes of our past, and the stunning beauty of our surroundings, we can take comfort and inspiration from them and use whatever power they give us to build on our own strengths to aim for that brighter future.

So, not a nationalist, but maybe, just maybe, a patriot. Scotland the Brave? You’re damn right.