During the early days of World War II, the fate of
Western Europe hangs on the newly-appointed British Prime Minister
Winston Churchill, who must decide whether to negotiate with Hitler, or
fight on against incredible odds.
Sir John Hurt died during the filming of the film. Hurt was supposed to
be in the film portraying Neville Chamberlain, but Gary Oldman said in
an interview, that because of how sick he was, and that he never made it
to a reading, Hurt never filmed a scene, as he was being treated for
cancer, which later took his life, as filming was going on. The film
will still be dedicated to Hurt, as it was his final project, with which
he was involved.
I’ve been trying to think when there was a historical drama I found as electrifying as Joe Wright’s “Darkest Hour.” It may have been Steven Spielberg’s “Munich,”
which topped my 10-best list a dozen years ago. They are very different
films, of course, and it could be that Wright’s boasts stellar
accomplishments in more departments. While Gary Oldman’s
phenomenal work as Winston Churchill had been heralded in advance, it
is astonishingly equaled by the film’s achievements in direction,
screenwriting, score and cinematography.
It’s a strange irony that the same patch of British history—a few
days in the spring of 1940—has been treated in two big, Oscar-aimed 2017
movies (and even plays a role in a third film from earlier this year, “Their Finest”). In various ways, Wright’s film and Christopher Nolan’s “Dunkirk”
are instructive companion pieces, with different aims that effectively
orient them toward different audiences. “Dunkirk” imagines the
evacuation of British troops under the onslaught of Nazi forces in a way
that puts sensation over sense; it says nothing of the event’s
historical context or import. Indeed, it could have been made with all
action and no words, where “Darkest Hour” is all about words,
words-as-action and this seminal event’s meaning to our world. It asks
you to engage intellectually, not just viscerally.
But if it’s a
history lesson, it’s one that plays like a tightly wound, pulse-pounding
thriller. And why not: the decisions it depicts may have determined the
fate of the world. The action takes place from May 8 to June 4, 1940
(the film regularly slams the dates at us in big block letters), and is
framed by two important addresses in the House of Commons, the “Norway
Debate” and Churchill’s rousing, epochal “We shall fight them on the
beaches” speech. In between, Churchill becomes Prime Minister, because
he’s the only member of his party acceptable to the opposition, and then
rallies the country to fight Hitler when other politicians want to
strike a deal with him.
Understanding the importance of this
story’s events is not terribly easy now because it’s difficult to look
at the world of 1940 as people did then. The Germans may have subjugated
several European countries, but the coming slaughter of the continent’s
Jews was still unsuspected, and Hitler was widely seen as a very
effective authoritarian ruler (a quality that some non-Germans beset
with dithering democrats frankly admired) rather than a murderous
madman. Churchill’s virtue in this moment was to see the truth more
clearly than others did, and to understand both the absolute necessity
and the arduous difficulty of fighting the Nazi regime to the death.
The film’s title is entirely accurate. With the Germans threatening
to obliterate Britain’s army prior to the Dunkirk evacuation (which is
alluded to rather than shown here), and Churchill soon to hear Franklin
Roosevelt decline to help the Brits due to the anti-interventionist
sentiment in Congress, the United Kingdom was at a very dark and lonely
place indeed. It’s no wonder that Churchill’s main opponents in this
drama, Neville Chamberlain (Ronald Pickup) and Lord Halifax (Stephen Dillane),
encouraged having Mussolini negotiate a deal with Hitler that might
have spared Britain from invasion and potential mass slaughter. Even
King George VI (Ben Mendelsohn), before being won over to Churchill’s viewpoint, was amenable to dealing with the devil.
The Winston Churchill we see here is no cartoon hero or plaster saint. As the recent, wretched “Churchill”
(which was as roundly denounced by historians and Churchill experts as
“Darkest Hour” has been praised) did, Wright’s film notes the dark stain
on the leader’s public career that the battle of Gallipoli in World War
I represented, but doesn’t make it a psychological millstone. “Darkest
Hour” likewise frequently shows us its protagonist from the viewpoints
of his acerbic though supportive wife, Clemmie (the brilliant Kristin Scott Thomas), and his young, endlessly put-upon secretary, Elizabeth (Lily James). Yet the freshness of this film’s portrayal begins with the dramatic sharpness and historical intelligence of Anthony McCarten’s script, which gives us a
Churchill who is drawn into dynamic action by the looming shadow of Hitler’s evil.
After
charting the perilous political waters, he must navigate to gain the
support of his war cabinet, the film climaxes with a sublime invention: a
scene in which Churchill, on the way to Parliament, bounds out of his
traffic-bound limousine, hops on the Underground and listens to a car
full of average Londoners voice their support for his war aims. As corny
as this may sound, it’s an entirely appropriate way of registering the
kind of popular backing, even affection, that Churchill enjoyed during
wartime (he was voted out of office as soon as the war ended), and it
works in part due to the spunky charm and thoroughgoing excellence of
Gary Oldman’s performance, which deserves every award it will inevitably
win.
A kindred excellence characterizes the striking collaboration between Joe Wright and cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel,
who together give the film a very nuanced and engaging balance of light
and shadow, eloquent movement and meditative stasis. For my money,
Delbonnel’s work surpasses even “Dunkirk” to emerge as the best
cinematography of the year so far. Wright’s team also benefits from the
understated lyricism of Dario Marianelli’s score.
The
events leading up to the charged drama we see in “Darkest Hour” have
not been totally forgotten, of course. The name of Neville Chamberlain,
Churchill’s predecessor, will forever be associated with the term
“appeasement,” which these days hardliners use at every opportunity to
denounce attempts to negotiate with objectionable regimes and rulers.
But Wright’s film indirectly makes the point that not every tinpot
dictator is a Hitler nor is every posturing, hawkish politician a
Churchill. Certain times and men are indeed exceptional, which is why a
movie like “Darkest Hour” itself stands apart from more routine
historical dramas.
Thanks for reading and have fun watching movies.
