вЂњWeвЂ™re digital by defaultвЂќ is the mantra of this impersonal new world, to which carpenter Daniel pointedly replies, вЂњYeah? Well IвЂ™m pencil by default.вЂќ Scenes of Blake struggling with a computer cursor (вЂњfucking apt name for it!вЂќ) raise a wry chuckle, but thereвЂ™s real outrage at the way this obligatory online form-filling has effectively written people like him out of existence. I, Daniel Blake: the trailer for Ken LoachвЂ™s Palme dвЂ™Or-winner. Yet both are falling through the cracks of a cruel system that pushes those caught up in its cogs to breaking point. Both are doing all they can to make the best of a bleak situation, retaining their hope and dignity in the face of insurmountable odds. вЂњIвЂ™ll make this a home if itвЂ™s the last thing I do,вЂќ she tells Daniel, who takes her under his wing, fixing up her flat and impressed by her resolve to go вЂњback to the booksвЂќ with the Open University. Meanwhile, SquiresвЂ™s mother-of-two Katie is similarly being given the runaround, rehoused hundreds of miles from her friends and family in London after spending two years in a hostel. Instead, he must apply for jobseekerвЂ™s allowance and perform the Sisyphean tasks of attending CV workshops and pounding the pavements in search of nonexistent jobs that he canвЂ™t take anyway. Yet since he is able to walk 50 metres and вЂњraise either arm as if to put something in your top pocketвЂќ, he is deemed ineligible for employment and support allowance, scoring a meaningless 12 points rather than the requisite 15. Having suffered a heart attack at work, Daniel has been instructed by doctors to rest. We open with the sound of 59-year-old Geordie joiner Daniel Blake (standup comic Johns) answering automaton-like questions from a вЂњhealthcare professionalвЂќ. Blessed with exceptional lead performances from Dave Johns and Hayley Squires, Loach crafts a gut-wrenching tragicomic drama (about вЂњa monumental farceвЂќ) that blends the timeless humanity of the Dardenne brothersвЂ™ finest works with the contemporary urgency of LoachвЂ™s own 1966 masterpiece Cathy Come Home. On another, it is a celebration of the decency and kinship of (extra)ordinary people who look out for each other when the state abandons its duty of care.ДЇor all its raw anger at the impersonal mistreatment of a single mother and an ailing widower in depressed but resilient Newcastle, Paul LavertyвЂ™s brilliantly insightful script finds much that is moving (and often surprisingly funny) in the unbreakable social bonds of so-called вЂњbroken BritainвЂќ. On one level, it is a polemical indictment of a faceless benefits bureaucracy that strips claimants of their humanity by reducing them to mere numbers вЂ“ neoliberal 1984 meets uncaring, capitalist Catch-22. K en LoachвЂ™s latest Palme dвЂ™Or winner, his second after 2006вЂ™s The Wind that Shakes the Barley, packs a hefty punch, both personal and political.

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