Ken Loach has said The Old Oak will be his last film – he’s 87; the golf course probably beckons. It’s not one of the ones he’ll be remembered for. At least, however, it is starkly different from the others as it’s a cheerful, sunny romcom set in Paris in the spring. I’m joshing you. It’s set in the deprived north-east where the skies are permanently grim and tensions rise due to the arrival of Syrian refugees. As you’d expect, it is a compassionate film that is respectful all round but it is also heavy-handed, soapy and sentimental, with a redemptive ending that is unearned. I wish him joy on the golf course and can only hope he has better luck keeping his eye on the ball there.

This is Loach’s third consecutive film set in the north-east after I, Daniel Blake and Sorry We Missed You – both powerfully depressing. It is written by his long-term collaborator Paul Laverty. The central character is T.J. Ballantyne (Dave Turner), the proprietor and landlord of The Old Oak, the seriously dilapidated boozer that is hanging on by its fingertips, like the town which was once a thriving mining community. In one of the early scenes we see that the ‘K’ in the pub signage has swung upside-down on the nail, so Ballantyne takes a long pole to push it back into place. Please don’t make it swing down again as soon as his back is turned, I thought. Please, Ken, Paul, don’t do anything so obvious. Please. You’re better than that. But, no, there it goes.

Ballantyne seems weary. He’s kept the pub afloat, just about, by ‘saying nowt’ when his few regulars gather and are vitriolic about ‘ragheads’ and start their sentences with: ‘I’m not a racist but…’ Throughout, the locals tend to declaim issues rather than speak as people actually might. They are angry that house prices have been decimated. A Cypriot company, a character declaims early on, is buying up entire terraces at auction, sight unseen, and then renting them out exploitatively. This seems fertile territory to explore but it’s mentioned once and then never again.

The other central character, meanwhile, is Yara (Ebla Mari), who has fled the Assad regime with her family. She loves photography but her camera is smashed by racist bullies the moment she arrives. Ballantyne, who is kindly, wants to help her out and a friendship develops. His only other friend is Marra (Lola), his adorable little dog. Her future is so heavily signalled it is unforgiveable even if it does take us all the way back to Kes. (Kes blew my mind when I was a teenager; I have the poster of it on my wall.)

The bone of contention becomes the back room at The Old Oak that hasn’t been opened for 20 years and which has become a sort of shrine to the solidarity of the 1984 miners’ strike. It’s the only meeting place left in town and as he has said he won’t loan it out to the regulars who want to have their anti-immigration meetings there, will he join the Syrians in opening a canteen where everyone can eat together?

Turner is tender as Ballantyne, full of pain and soul, even if his character deserves more backstory. And while Yara’s proclamations about the war are sometimes stilted and don’t ring true, Mari’s performance is delicate and layered. Loach treats each side with equal sympathy and we certainly see how poverty can swiftly lead to xenophobia. The ending is a Brassed Off or Pride sort of ending, as simplistic as it is soppy and unlikely. Perhaps Loach wanted to go out on a feel-good note. Fair enough. It’s just not anything he’ll be remembered for.