If the average cinemagoer sits down to watch the movie Saipan, unaware of the incident that inspired it, then an immediate montage of frantic radio soundbites does a nifty job at setting the scene before we’ve even seen a single image. Premiering at the Toronto film festival, it’s likely that might be the case for many international attenders here, and the Irish directors Glenn Leyburn and Lisa Barros D’Sa set themselves the lofty task of translating the overwhelming scale of a very 2002 tabloid scandal for those who weren’t knee-deep in the hows and whys. Words like soap and drama are thrown around, while one commentator compares the public outcry to that seen after the death of Princess Diana. How did a fight over cheese sandwiches turn into such a frenzy?
At its heart, Saipan is a workplace drama about the danger of mismanagement and the inescapability of office politics, it pulses with the relatable anger that erupts from the feeling of unfair treatment. It just so happens that the workplace is the world of football and the warring employees are two highly paid household names reaching boiling point as the World Cup looms. Steve Coogan is Mick McCarthy, a player turned manager, taking charge of the Republic of Ireland team as they make a rare appearance in a global tournament they’re not typically associated with (it was their third, and to date most recent, World Cup). The media is perhaps rightfully crediting this to the involvement of Roy Keane, played by Éanna Hardwicke, whose success as part of Manchester United has levelled the national team up, whether McCarthy likes to admit it or not. They have a spotty history (we hear a brief reference to an on-pitch spar years prior) but both are entering a crucial period on best behaviour, aware of the many eyes on them. Longtime Shane Meadows collaborator Paul Fraser’s script lightly stacks up bones of contention in the months before flying us to Saipan, the location of a poorly defined team trip that’s part gameplay prep and part R&R. Keane, an often humourless workhorse, is already struggling to play ball, annoyed at the ostentatious excess of the Football Association of Ireland and unsure of McCarthy’s decision-making.
We soon learn that he had reason to be suspicious as the ill-advised getaway spins out of control. The hotel is junky and crumbling (Keane compares it to Fawlty Towers) with barely functional AC, unsafe sporting facilities and those aforementioned sandwiches for food. Keane’s view of himself and what he does might seem grandiose (he’s seen watching, and clearly relating to, footage of Muhammad Ali on the flight over) but the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been and his demands are not unacceptable (a fellow player dramatically gasps at his ask for a different meal, to which he replies, straight-faced, “It’s egg on toast”). But it’s less what he expects than how he asks for it, his manner alienating not just McCarthy but the players around him. The film follows this descent from forced pleasantries to an all-out slanging match, as tensions explode outside of backrooms and into the press, elevating a work dispute into a media scandal. Leyburn and Barros D’Sa’s last film was the unusually sensitive and cliche-avoidant drama Ordinary Love, about a couple dealing with a terminal cancer diagnosis, and while the topics couldn’t be more different, there’s a similar level of care and restraint here.
Before the film starts, the standard “this film is a dramatisation” legal messaging that’s often kept for the end credits is shown first, nodding to a story that may never be known in full and one that still inspires impassioned opinions from many. The film shows that McCarthy and Keane make ill-advised choices along the way but it’s clearly more in Keane’s corner, a convincing and at times moving portrayal of someone who just believes in basic fairness and honesty grappling with a world and a particular system at odds with him. Hardwicke, an actor unfamiliar to most, is an electric presence, a real star find of the festival. He has the self-possession of someone confident in his ability and moral code and the bristling fury of one who can’t believe that those around him can’t quite live up to it. Coogan, continuing his unlikely career as one of England’s most reliable character actors, is excellent but it’s Hardwicke who steals it and their final, blistering confrontation is an escalating thrill to watch, as full-body rage finally takes over.
So much of the film is designed to stoke a response that even as someone at a distance from the original story, I found myself oscillating between surprisingly intense emotional reactions. There’s something frustrating and eventually sad about watching men unable to resolve a conflict that could have been fixed by the smallest amount of humility or admitting wrongdoing (it would make for a fascinating piece of workplace training on how not to manage someone). At a game-length 91 minutes, Saipan smartly comes and goes with speed (for all of its anger, it’s also a breezy, funny time) but it’s the rare football movie that’s worth a replay.
Saipan is screening at the Toronto film festival and will be released at a later date
