First released in 1991 and based on a novel by Roddy Doyle, The Commitments is the story of a manager with a dream and a band with a chip on its collective shoulder.

Living in working class Dublin, Jimmy Rabbitte (Robert Arkins) dreams of managing a band.  He’s a fan of old school soul and rock and roll music, the type that was played by black artists in the American South.  Jimmy feels that the Irish have a special connection to that music because, as he explains it, “the Irish are the blacks of Europe.”  (I think one could argue that the black people living in Europe are the blacks of Europe but we’ll go with it.  I understand Jimmy’s argument, even if it is the sort of thing that would send social media into a tizzy if it were made today.)  Jimmy puts an ad in the paper and discovers that there are a lot of aspiring musicians in Ireland and very few of them know much about soul music.  Even Jimmy’s father (a delightful Colm Meaney) seems to believe that he could be a part of the band.  In the end, Jimmy puts together the band himself, recruiting an unlikely collection of friends and barely know acquaintances.  He finds a lead singer in the talented but unruly Deco Cuffe (Andrew Strong), a pianist in the religious Steven (Michael Aherne), a saxophonist in Dean Fay (Felim Gormley), a guitarist in Outspan Foster (Glen Hansard), and three back-up singers in Bernie (Bronagh Gallagher), Imelda (Angeline Ball), and Natalie (Maria Doyle).  He also finds a mentor in trumpeter Joey “The Lips” Fagan (Johnny Murphy), an American who claims to have played with everyone who is anyone and who names the band The Commitments.  They’re a working class band and one that doesn’t always mix well with each other.  Deco’s gets on everyone’s nerves from the start but, as Dean puts it at the unemployment office, he’s much happier being a saxophonist on the dole than a plumber’s assistant on the dole.

There’s a raw energy to The Commitments, as both a film and a band.  Both the film’s comedy and its music comes from a very real pain.  No one in the film is rich.  No one has been given much of a chance by British society.  Deco may be obnoxious but he also epitomizes the wild spirt of someone who refuses to be tamed by society.  Jimmy Rabbitte may occasionally be a bit in over his head but it’s hard not to admire his refusal to surrender.  From the minute the band comes together, it’s obvious that they’re not going to last.  Nearly every gig ends in disaster and Joey, despite his knowledge of soul, is a bit rigid in his demands of the band.  When Dean improvises, Joey acts as if it’s the end of the world that Dean would rather play jazz than soul.  Joey sees jazz as being elitist.  Dean sees it as being a way to express his own artistic vision.  The wonderful thing about The Commitments is that they’re both allowed to be right.

The band might not last but the film leaves you happy that they still had their moment.  The Commitments is a film that feels alive, not just with artistic desire but with the anger of people who have been pushed to the side by the establishment.  For a while, the band gives them a chance to express that anger and, afterwards, it’s gratifying to see that the majority of the members still carry the legacy of The Commitments with them, with some members continuing to pursue music and others returning to their everyday lives in Dublin.  It’s a good film, one that celebrates both music and humanity.