Knuckle | Review

As its basest and most obvious, the directorial debut of Ian Palmer, Knuckle, best exemplifies the timeworn Biblical adage “violence begets violence.” Having the distinction of being filmed for a period of over 12 years, Palmer’s documentary would have you think that his roving camera was in fact voraciously following several sparring Traveller clans in Ireland. But the fact of the matter is the act of filmmaking seems to be more of an afterthought, as what Palmer’s camera (much like his audience) really seeks is the rabid thrill of hand to hand bare-knuckled fighting.

Palmer was invited by a member of the Quinn McDonagh family to film a wedding in 1997. While at the event, he was introduced to the world of Traveller clans, an Irish term for nomadic peoples (not unlike gypsies) that still share a strong familial bond and culture, resulting in traditionally marrying within their own extended families and seeking work that allows for independence. Travellers seem to settle in houses and halting sites outside city limits and have long campaigned to be recognized as a specific ethnic group.

While at the wedding, Palmer was privy to an ongoing feud between two traveling families, the Quinn McDonaghs and the Joyces. An undefeated member of the Quinn McDonaghs, James, was being called upon by the Joyces to engage in a round of bare-knuckle boxing. A quiet, hulking man, James is verbally opposed to the violent fighting, and vows that this will be his last, claiming that his demand for money to fight is also a reason for engaging in the event. The film skips ahead to 2009, where Palmer narrates that James is finally ready to talk about what caused the feud between the clans. The death of a Joyce family member in 1992 and then another member shortly thereafter seems to be the renewable source of anger between the clans, each side filming taunting video-tape dares and insults addressed to the other. Upon viewing these recordings, it seems that each clan becomes unreasonably inflamed and unable to do anything but demand a fight. The boxing matches are supposed to represent a reckoning of sorts, but there’s always some member of one of the families looking for more justice or attention.

Knuckle really feels like one long exploitative loop that gives us Jerry Springer on the rural roadside generously punctuated with real-time fist fights. There’s a sickening fascination surrounding the first boxing match we’re privy to, and as the film inexplicably returns time and time again to its promised spectacle, a deadening desensitization quickly sets in, and the inevitable realization that this film will not offer any type of rationale or insight into any other aspect of the Traveller culture.

When James breaks his vow to never fight again several years after 1997, Palmer isn’t allowed to film the fight because one of the referees is on bail. Someone else at the fight managed to film it, however, and Palmer apologizes for this footage looking like a video nasty. However, there’s really little difference between this footage and the rest of the film. When Palmer narrates that he finally began to tire of filming this blood-sport during a fight between two grandparent clan members, he doesn’t seem to realize that, in essence, this fight is no different from the others. Only picking up the camera to film the Traveller clans when fights were brewing or to explain why feuds were happening doesn’t make a documentary, but rather exploits the most visibly controversial and easily accessible aspect of his subject matter. We’re never given a moment to understand what Traveller culture might also stand for, their other traditions and other desires, neutering Knuckle into only an uncensored expose on maligned masculinity and senseless violence.

While the women of the clans were often too shy to comment on camera, one scene shows some of the older women shaking their heads in dismay at the children growing up in such a volatile environment. Yet no one does anything at all to break the circle of violence. What the Traveller clans do understand is the power of the filmed image and they actively seek having their victories recorded on camera. Palmer’s documentary does little more than add fire to the flame, while showing the world a group of people that don’t seem ashamed to act a plum fool on the big screen.

Rating 2 stars