Publican TJ Ballantyne (Dave Turner) uses a mop handle to fix the name on the front of his pub, prodding a dangling letter K back into place. It holds for a few seconds, then slips sideways again – like so much in this cash-strapped corner of the north-east of England, it’s a temporary fix on a fundamentally broken situation. The latest film from director Ken Loach and screenwriter Paul Laverty is typically forthright in its imagery and plain-spoken in its messaging. At times the Loach approach can feel like a bit of a blunt weapon. But this is film-making driven by anger, empathy and unquenched idealism. It may lack polish – the performance quality from the non-professional cast is uneven, to say the least – but it contains moments of blistering power. The setting is 2016 – year zero for Brexit. There’s bleak desperation and a stewing sense of injustice in the village, a community mortally wounded by the coalmine closures back in the 80s, which has been suffering a slow and painful decline ever since. The arrival of several families of Syrian refugees is a flashpoint for xenophobic tensions. Much of this is vented in TJ’s dilapidated pub, the Old Oak, where a handful of regulars drink bitter and spew bitterness. Meanwhile, TJ – disappointed, decent and, like everyone else, just about clinging on – strikes up a friendship with Yara (Ebla Mari), a young female refugee. Together with aid worker Laura (Claire Rodgerson), they devise a plan to bring the two traumatised communities together. As with all Loach’s issue-led film-making – I, Daniel Blake’s condemnation of austerity; Sorry We Missed You’s attack on the gig economy – there is a clear, black-and-white moral framework. But there is also a plea for open-hearted compassion, even for bilious racists. The final message of hope is resolutely upbeat and desperately needed.