deco is the commitments' secret weapon and their biggest liability in one package. he can sing — properly sing, the kind of raw soul voice that makes the band actually work — but he knows it, and he won't let anyone forget it. he's the tension that makes the story go: without his talent there's no band, and with his personality there might not be one either.

jimmy jr. is the engine of the commitments — he doesn't play an instrument, can't sing, but he's got the vision and the mouth to make it happen. he's the one who decides that dublin's northside is the new detroit, that working-class dubliners are the irish equivalent of african americans in terms of being shut out and overlooked. it's audacious, a bit daft, and completely sincere. he's doyle's portrait of what happens when ambition meets a council estate.

joey the lips is the oldest member of the band and the most mysterious. he says he's played with wilson pickett, with james brown, with everyone who matters. nobody can quite verify this. he brings a kind of zen soul philosophy to the rehearsal room and a trumpet that actually works. whether he's a genuine legend or a magnificent bluffer is part of the fun — and doyle never fully answers it.

outspan is where the commitments begin — he's already in a band when jimmy convinces him that what they need is soul, not indie. he's the everyman of the group: decent player, good craic, no notions. he's the friend who goes along with jimmy's mad schemes because that's what mates do.