Film Review - Dunkirk (12A)

You can practically see it from here... Home.

Dunkirk - the name is synonymous here in the UK with communal spirit in the face of terrible adversity. A whole generation still vividly recalls the events of May-June 1940, when over 300,000 Allied soldiers were evacuated from the beach of the French coastal resort, largely by civilian vessels enlisted in Operation Dynamo. It was a watershed historical event, dealt with in film before (see my April review of Their Finest for a recent example), but never so viscerally as in Christopher Nolan's new feature. 

Nolan has described his own movie as 'not a war film', but rather 'a survival story' and 'suspense film'. It's fair comment. Hemmed in by approaching German tanks and threatened by a skyfull of Messerschmitt bombers, the young soldiers are done with warring for now. Their offensive into mainland Europe has failed and all they can do is await rescue, with no assurance that it will ever come. The enemy is faceless throughout, coming only in the form of a torpedo, sniper bullet or aerial bombardment.

Dunkirk charts three lads' week-long struggle to survive on the beaches. Their travails are inter-cut with the day-long voyage across the English Channel by one of the many tiny rescue boats, and with an hour-long dogfight between British and German pilots - an intricate triple time-structure in a film all about time running out. It's a sustained exercise in tension, building steadily to the point at which events on land, sea and air converge. By the time they do, you'll have been both terrified and enthralled.

Nolan is one of the most distinctive voices in modern cinema and all his trademark film-making preferences are brought to bear here. Dunkirk is shot with IMAX cameras, producing panoramic vistas of sky, sea and beaches. Computer-generated images are rejected at every turn in favour of real warships and the genuine piloting of real period fighter planes. The soundscape is breathtaking in its own right, from the thrum of ships' engines to the dreadful overhead whine of approaching enemy aircraft, all of it backed up by Hans Zimmer's relentless ticking-clock score. 

The result is a deep sense of authenticity, as immersive a piece of cinema as your could hope to experience. You spend time - proper nail-chewing time - among these scared and desperate young men, along with those rushing to their aid. Dialogue is sparse. There's no time spent spent swapping stories about family and girlfriends and whether the boys will get to see City play again - just solidarity born of fear and ebbing hope. Or the fighter-pilots' steely-eyed concentration. Or the rescuers' determination to do a little bit of good in a continent gone stark mad. 

There are fine performances too, however shorn of speech. Kenneth Branagh and James D'Arcy get to say the most as terse, preoccupied military officers. Mark Rylance has understated dignity as the pleasure-boat captain progressing doggedly across the Channel. Previously unknown Fionn Whitehead and pop superstar Harry Styles are level on the Dunkirk sand-flats, both quietly impressive as British army Privates trying to stay alive. 

You don't get to know any of these men well and frankly there's no need. Writer/director Nolan understands that from the beginning. These characters could be any out of thousands caught up in an extraordinary event of history. It's enough that they're human - painfully so - and that the events depicted in Dunkirk really did happen.

Ed's Verdict: 9.5/10. Technically masterful, gripping throughout and profoundly affecting, Dunkirk is Nolan at the height of his powers. Film of the summer and a contender for film of the year. See it - on the biggest screen possible.