Irish director Claire Dix’s Broken Song is a visually stunning and intimate insight into the creativity of disenfranchised Dublin rappers. Filmed in Finglas and Ballymun, Broken Song focuses on GI and Costello, two up-and-comers who look to each other for lyrical inspiration. Spurred on by the boundless enthusiasm of youth worker Dean Scurry, they also try to mentor younger rappers in the neighbourhood.
Baby-faced 15-year-olds rap graphically about their sexual conquests and the fates of their enemies and it’s clear that respect and intimidation is their currency. But as the kids – and they are still kids – reveal their vulnerabilities and start discussing the city that has beaten them down, the lyrics become deeper. They demonstrate a beautifully articulated, heart-breaking awareness of the limits and obstacles facing their communities.
While the subject matter isn’t new, Dix’s approach is striking. The sumptuous black and white cinematography by Richard Hendricks illuminates the poetic artistry of the raps. There’s none of the usual gritty stereotypes. Dix also avoids the clichéd build to a climactic gig. Instead she focuses on the subtle journey of Willa Dea, a teen with a breathtakingly soulful voice - and a self-destructive streak that may stop him doing anything with it.
The biggest lesson might not be for the documentary’s subjects, but the audience: maybe we shouldn’t wait for a beautiful black and white film to appreciate the artists of this city.