Anyone who thinks it’s impossible to imagine a feel-good movie set against the backdrop of the horrendous 1984-85 British coal miners’ strike should be instructed to watch “Billy Elliot” again. And then he should be invited to take a look at “Pride,” too. This feel-good, fact-based period drama appeals to much the same sentiments that made “Elliot” such a success, and it could serve as part of a double-bill with the earlier film, though its basis in history is far more secure.

Theatrical director Matthew Warchus’ second feature focuses on an unusual alliance that was actually formed during the punishing walkout in which the socialistically-inclined Mineworkers’ Union resisted policies of the Thatcher government that would close down mines and cost jobs: the miners received unexpected support from the lesbian and gay community, which also felt targeted by the Tory government. Though ultimately the miners were forced to go back to work, giving Thatcher a victory, the bond that had been forged between the union and the LGSM (Lesbians and Gay Men Support the Miners) led the union to be instrumental in changing the Labor Party platform to support gay rights.

Stephen Beresford’s script uses two London Gay Pride marches to bookend the story. During the first, activist Mark Ashton (charismatic Ben Schnetzer) gets the bright idea of collecting money for the miners from participants hardly sympathetic to men who are, if anything, hostile toward them. But Ashton is undeterred, and together with the small group of friends who use the bookshop of reticent Gethin Roberts (Andrew Scott) and his longtime partner, the flamboyant Jonathan Blake (Dominic West), as a base, recruits volunteers for the effort. Among those who enlist are Mark’s closest friend Mike Jackson (Joseph Gilgun), Steph Chambers (Faye Marsay), a volatile lesbian, and Joe Copper (George MacKay), a suburban lad in cooking school who hasn’t yet come out but is exhilarated by the energy Ashton exudes. (Most of the characters are based on real people, but Joe is Beresford’s invention, someone who can serve effectively as both an audience surrogate in being introduced to the city’s gay culture just as viewers are, and as a major figure in the plot as well. Happily, McKay is such an ingratiating young fellow that the conceit works.)

The national union leaders show little inclination to accept donations from a group whose public support they think might harm their cause, so Ashton decides to approach a single mining town, which by sheer accident turns out to be the South Wales village of Onllwyn, where he finds an accommodating partner in shop steward Dai Donovan (Paddy Considine), an ordinary bloke who’s not only willing to come down to London to confer with the LGSM, but shows himself capable of a deft outreach to the larger gay community. And when Mark and his colleagues visit Onllwyn, they’re warmly welcomed not only by Del but by other local leaders, including hard-driving Hefina Headon (Imelda Staunton), slightly dotty Gwen (Menna Trussler) and Cliff (Bill Nighy), the quiet union secretary. Another voice decisively in their corner is Sian James (Jessica Gunning), the wife of a miner who steps out of her role in the kitchen to become one of the visitors’ most vocal supporters. (The real James went on, after the strike, to get her degree and win election to Parliament.)

It’s one of the minor weaknesses of “Pride” that the reluctance of much of the union rank-and-file is overcome almost instantly by an extravagant dance in the union hall by Jonathan (on stage, it would be a definite show-stopper for West), but in this feel-good context one’s willing to forgive the shortcut. More problematic is the way in which the residual opposition is embodied in one person—Maureen (Lisa Palfrey), Cliff’s widowed sister-in-law, who’s portrayed as nothing less than a purse-lipped bigot. More interesting is the characterization of Joe’s mother Marion (Monica Dolan), who, when she finds out what her son’s been up to, tries to steer him back to what she considers normalcy; it’s no accident, one must presume, that she’s made up to look very much like Thatcher. One might also object to Gethin’s teary reunion with the Welsh mother he’s been estranged from for years. But Scott plays the turn so affectingly that, once again, criticism vanishes.

All the cast, in fact, are so splendid—with the exception of Palfrey, who’s defeated by the caricature-like straightjacket of her role—that it’s difficult to choose favorites, though vets Staunton and Nighy effortlessly steal scenes even when they’re playing them together (one toward the close, when they’re jointly preparing sandwiches, is wonderfully funny and touching simultaneously), while relative newcomers Schnetzer, Gunning and MacKay are no less engaging. And as extrovert Jonathan, West has that rip-roaring dance scene.

The fact that virtually all the actors make strong impressions, in a picture with so many characters and subplots, is testament to Warchus’ skill in dealing with such a large ensemble, as well as to the craft and cunning of Beresford’s screenplay. Technically the film is a thoroughly accomplished piece of work, with fine location cinematography by Tat Radcliffe and smooth editing by Melanie Ann Oliver.

The miners’ strike ended in defeat, of course, and “Pride” doesn’t ignore that fact. Nor does it overlook the reality that it coincided with the advent of the AIDS epidemic. But even those circumstances aren’t allowed to muffle a note of triumph at the close, with another Gay Pride March whose numbers are bolstered by lots of newcomers. It’s a rousing conclusion to a film that deals with serious matters but does so in a way that makes it an irresistible crowd-pleaser.