Director: Ken Loach

The film: It's not hard to see why The Wind That Shakes the Barley has polarised critics and audiences alike. Revolving around the Irish struggle for independence and the resultant civil war after the Anglo-Irish Treaty in 1921, Ken Loach's film has shown most parties in the conflict in a less favourable light. It's seen why the police paramilitary unit formed by the British government, known as the Black and Tans, gained infamy for their murderous mayhem. Among the republicans who had fought the Tans, one denounces his former leader Michael Collins as securing what he sees as a second-rate deal for Ireland because he signed the treaty after being 'seduced by the wining and dining' in London.

Only the hardliners who insisted on complete and immediate independence from British rule come out well - but only just. Loach, a humane left-winger who doesn't glorify warfare for any cause, delivers more than a revisionist take on militant Republicanism. His film is also an ode to idealism and a condemnation of how violence is one unending cycle of futility.

The brutality of London's Irish proxies and the effect it has on the country is soon seen. Damien O'Donovan (Cillian Murphy, below), a medical graduate who originally had no interest in becoming political, is drawn to the Republican cause after he sees a Gaelic-speaking neighbour killed for not giving his name in English, and railway staff beaten up by marauding Black and Tans.

It's not simple praise for the Irish Republican Army throughout. When Damien is ordered to shoot two spies, one of whom is a childhood friend, he's visibly disturbed. 'I studied anatomy for five years and now I'm going to shoot this person in the head,' he says before raising his gun. 'I hope this Ireland we're fighting for is worth it.'

The question hovers over the film. Two key moments are when Damien's brother Teddy (Padraic Delaney) sides with a loanshark landlord because he can provide the money for arms, and when their guerilla group watches helplessly as the Tans assault women and burn houses as revenge for ambushes on military convoys. Later, when Damien joins the anti-Treaty forces under Eamon de Valera and Teddy sides with Collins and those who accepted the 26-county Irish Free State, the schism between the brothers is laid bare. For the pro-Treaty army would repeat the harassment and executions meted out by their former British foes.

The extras: A running commentary by Loach and historical advisor Donal O Drisceoil paints in the background to the film's narrative, for example the Kilmichael ambush in November 1920 that is re-enacted in the film, and the anger and resentment following the signing of the Treaty. Then there's Carry On Ken, a 45-minute, sometimes incoherent but overall insightful, documentary on the filmmaker himself, with generous amounts of footage from previous films and comments from collaborators such as Robert Carlyle, Peter Mullan, screenwriter Paul Laverty and Ricky Tomlinson.

The verdict: While polemic at times, it provides enough conviction and drama to move.