"Think for yourself, question authority." Timothy Leary’s poignant advice serves as a tool in my daily approach to events and issues, and can be applied several ways in dissecting Paul Greengrass’ film Bloody Sunday. Providing very little background on the causes and parties that served as the chemicals sparking the events depicted in Bloody Sunday, Greengrass focuses simply on providing a psuedo-documentary perspective of the January 30, 1972, civil rights march-turned-massacre in Derry, Northern Ireland. Although an unwaveringly dramatic depiction of what occurred that fateful day, the apparent "facts" depicted in Bloody Sunday made me question its accuracy. Prodded along by "Dr." Leary’s words, I dug a little further into the history of the subject matter and the resources used by Greengrass in making the film, and my conclusion is that Bloody Sunday is a bit less objective than the documentary approach might suggest.

Bloody Sunday chronicles, from the morning hours of organization to the mourning hours of death that same evening, the Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association march through the streets of Derry. Ivan Cooper (James Nesbitt), the idealist leader of the adamantly non-violent civil rights movement, struggles to maintain control of the protest’s varying parties, all of whom protest the Unionist Government’s internment of prisoners without trial yet disagree on how best to affect change (ie, the heavily-armed IRA).

The Unionist Government, the British Army, and the British Government are steadfast in the belief that this voice of opposition be muted, and agree to deploy soldiers (including the particularly nasty Parachute Regiment) to rain on the parade. As the march follows its path, several of the not-so-non-violent protesters break off and confront the eagerly awaiting military, hurling rocks, etc. in disapproval of their presence at the march. The movie then depicts the first live-round to be fired by one of the British soldiers, sparking a bloodbath that leaves thirteen protesters dead and several others injured.

The pseudo-documentary approach utilized by Greengrass often-times provides an effective jolt to the audience, portraying the confusion and brutality allegedly suffered by the civilian marchers. More than occasionally, though, this medium induced in myself a feeling akin to car-sickness. If this was the Greengrass-goal, kudos. I also realize the necessity of an Irish inflection from the actors, but the harshness of several accents, especially that of youth-rebel Gerry Donaghy (Declan Duddy), are unintelligible. Luckily, however, this film does not hang its hat on intriguing dialogue, but on outrage, blood, and revolution. Greengrass also fades to black every minute or so. Speculation would suggest that this was to break up the story amongst the distinct factions, so not as to confuse whom was fighting whom. I suggest, though, that this technique was more "art for the sake of art."

The character-development in this film needs little attention, as there is little time for such a thing with a "pseudo-documentary." Greengrass’ focus is the action, the action, and more of the action. Nesbitt (Lucky Break, Waking Ned Devine) turns in a top-notch performance as the Martin Luther King, Jr.-minded activist, Ivan Cooper, passionately portraying the delicate balance Cooper tight-roped between politician and provocateur. The intensity that Nesbitt brings to the screen is nothing short of amazing. Tim Pigott-Smith (The Remains of the Day, The Four Feathers) does a decent job playing the British Army puppet-master Major General Ford, affecting his wishes while assuring that any blame befall an inferior officer. As for the majority of the characters in Bloody Sunday, however, there is no audience-character attachment, resulting in viewers having little vested in those mowed down in cold-blood.

My main problem with the movie, though, is its agenda infiltrating the Greengrass effort. I had scant knowledge of the subject matter, but the film’s treatment of IRA involvement as merely peripheral rang untrue. Another red flag was the climactic scene upon which we expect the final British Parachute soldier to confess the sins inflicted upon the civilians by his battalion. Confusingly, the confession never comes, as the soldier confirms his cohorts’ account to the official government inquiry that a civilian fired upon the soldiers first.

A perusal of several internet sites containing information on this event confirms only one thing: that confusion reigned in Derry that day. There are differing accounts which espouse assurances that IRA members fired the first shot. The Paramount production notes for Bloody Sunday state that Greengrass relies mostly on pro-movement eyewitnesses and the accounts of family members of those killed in the assault. While these views are not to be discounted, relying solely on these perspectives is far from objective.

The Saville Inquiry, an official re-examination of the original British government findings as to what occurred on Bloody Sunday, is only half-finished and there are expected to be over two-hundred former soldiers testifying that IRA operatives fired first. I am sure that the majority of fault lies with the British/Unionist actions that day in Derry. Although one wholly-anonymous (now supposedly in witness protection) former soldier testified October 17, 2002, that he personally saw no shots fired by IRA members, I would be much more convinced had there been at least one liner note referencing an independent and objective source corroborating the Greengrass account.

"Based on a true story" movies are usually adept at moving their audiences. When a viewer realizes that, "oh shit, this actually happened and could happen to me," the actions hit closer to home. I in no way oppose a filmmaker portraying only his/her favored side of a respective story, but Greengrass’ documentary-style presentation gives the unfair appearance that his treatment is undeniable fact. Greengrass’ pseudo-documentary moved me with suspicion of an agenda, diverting my full attention from the tragedy of January 30, 1972. It’s too bad, because no agenda won on Bloody Sunday, as the factions still battle today.

Chuck Boring, 2002