Tag Archives: Tom Hardy

Film Preview: Dunkirk – BFI Southbank

Dunkirk by Christopher Nolan

The miracle of Dunkirk is one of Britain’s most memorable war stories, and is one that combines all the key characteristics that ensure its place in history; it’s a display of ordinary heroism and stoic endurance, the triumph of the survival instinct, the combination of different groups working together, of individual and collective bravery, and most importantly, it is the story of victory against overwhelming odds – with ‘victory’ meaning the successful evacuation of hundreds of thousands of men cornered by the advancing German army. It is this more than anything else that inflames the popular imagination.

The way Britain records and memorialises its military history is almost unique, not in outright wins and numbers of enemy forces crushed, but in specific acts of bravery against apparently insurmountable obstacles. From the precision of Henry V’s paltry archers against a French army reportedly 4-6 times the size of the English at Agincourt, to the Charge of the Light Brigade in the Crimean War, the defence of Rourke’s Drift in the Anglo-Zulu War and the Battle of Britain, whatever the outcome, the courage of men fighting for King and Country is celebrated and revered. And it’s no coincidence that major war films have been made of each these incidents.

It is somewhat surprising then that the events of Dunkirk have rarely troubled filmmakers in the 77 years since a combined force of Royal Navy, RAF and “little boats” ensured Britain’s soldiers got home from the beaches of Northern France. In 1958 Leslie Norman produced a respected movie of the same name for which he is still best remembered, while the one-shot beach scene in Joe Wright’s Atonement remains one of the most technically impressive and cinematic depictions of war to date, but it was just one scene.

Dunkirk has, perhaps, been overshadowed by other later events in World War Two that capture another idea of heroism – D-Day, the Battle of Britain, Japanese Prisoner of War Camps and the African campaign – which have given filmmakers a more straight-forwardly heroic model and clear victory set-up to warm the nation in the years immediately after the conflict ended. Dunkirk may be a popular landmark but a retreat, even a noble one, is not necessarily the basis for a great film. That is until Christopher Nolan decided to direct it.

At this point it’s best to warn you that what follows will assume you know the history and the outcome of this story, but won’t reveal what happens to individual characters. Nolan’s approach is in many ways atypical of war films, and during a brief introduction at the BFI Southbank screening (having come directly from the premiere), Nolan explained that he wanted to create a semi-immersive experience that felt more like a thriller than a gung-ho tale of derring-do, a template that traditional war films tend to follow. If you imagine that most people seeing this film will know the outcome then the only way to create tension is to ask the audience to invest in the individual fates of a set of characters, and make the action as realistic as possible to create and prolong the suspense, which is something Nolan does masterfully.

Unusually, there is relatively little exposition at the start, the film begins with a one of the protagonists the aptly-named soldier Tommy (Fionn Whitehead) escaping snipers on the streets of Dunkirk where he emerges onto a beach full of men in lines waiting for the Navy to come for them. From this point, Nolan’s film is a full-on experience as tensions escalate, the clock ticks as the German Army approaches and four core narratives overlap. In the 105-minute run time, at least 95-minutes of this are unmissably tense so try not to take any breaks because you will miss something.

As we’ve seen from his previous work, Nolan is so accomplished at managing the multinarrative perspective, especially in Inception where the characters were situated in several layers of dream state, and he utilises this approach to considerable effect in Dunkirk. First, we follow Tommy who spends the film trying to jump the queue of men waiting for rescue, forced into short-term alliances with those prepared to push others aside to guarantee their own survival, including a role for Harry Styles that led to much conjecture. This perspective on muddied heroism is really fascinating, and while the audience is repelled by the greed of the men he meets, at the same time you can’t help but appreciate the desperation and fear that drove them to it.

The second strand is on “the mole”, a stretch of pier or jetty that extended far enough into the English Channel that the Navy’s ships could dock one at a time to take men home. Here we meet Naval Commander Bolton (Kenneth Branagh) and Army Colonel Winnant (James D’Arcy) who represent the wider war strategy, trying to save the men, but well aware that a harder war is on its way if Germany attempts invasion for which their ships must be protected.

Flying above them is a single RAF formation with three spitfires led by Farrier (Tom Hardy) and his fighter ace colleague Collins (Jack Lowden) who must keep the Luftwaffe from bombing the ships and men on the beach, engaging in dogfights and ensuring they don’t run out of fuel before they too can get home. Finally, we follow Mark Rylance’s “little boat” sent to help with the evacuation but picking up a stray soldier en route (Cillian Murphy) who survived an earlier sinking, but is so shell-shocked he tries to prevent them heading to Dunkirk.

Nolan’s approach feels more like real conflict than almost any war film you’ve ever seen, not just in the technical brilliance of the effects, but in the way the story is managed to show both the unremitting pace of combat, and importantly how the conduct of war is essentially a large system of interconnected elements, the removal of any one part of which would entirely change what happens to the rest of it. Aspects of these four stories do overlap in various ways as entirely separate characters come together momentarily, but what comes across most clearly is the sense that these men were all an important part of the same event, each contributing to the success of the rescue from different angles and with different outcomes.

The technical approach to this film is one its most impressive aspects, and with very little dialogue, it is the action that is the focus. Using real 35mm film was important Nolan explained for creating the right effect. Some of the most startling moments are in the aerial shots, with an Imax camera strapped to various parts of the substitute Spitfire, the actors were taken into the air to film Nolan explained, rather than compromise with imperfect green screening. The result is astounding, giving a kind of first-person perspective across the film that means the audience feels as though they’re sitting right next to Tom Hardy as he spirals through the clouds in pursuit of the dangerous enemy machines, standing should-to-shoulder with Kenneth Branagh on the pier or cowering during a snipper attack with Fionn Whitehead.

Two weeks ago, I suggested that Sam Mendes conducted rather than directed The Ferryman, and Nolan achieves the same effect here controlling the various elements, allowing them their moment but creating a sense of harmony across the film. It is compelling stuff right from the start, and even when you finally realise Nolan is playing with the timeline as well as the perspectives, it’s done in such an understated way that you’re instantly drawn back into the action. This is so redolent of the way men describe real warfare, with no time to linger on what happened and what it means, but having to just carry on. And Nolan’s approach to death and destruction is exactly the same, it happens but during the main thrust of the film it’s portrayal it unsentimental and unfussy, part of what’s happening but so much else is occurring simultaneously that, as with real warfare, there is only time to reflect much later when it’s all over.

And much of this down to Nolan’s faith in his cast, who, with very little dialogue, must carry much of the impact of events merely in expression. Kenneth Branagh is actually sensational as the weary naval officer carrying the weight of the war on his shoulders, feeling every bit of his powerlessness. Yet the moment the little boats appear, Nolan focuses entirely on Branagh’s face as the joy, pride and incalculable relief pass across it. When the tears fill his eyes, don’t be surprised if they also fill yours.

For much of the film Tom Hardy has only experienced determination in his eyes to rely on while his face is covered by the mask of a fighter pilot but he still manages to convey the fear, concern, relief and almost total self-reliance that are the mark of aerial warfare. Mark Rylance meanwhile as civilian boatman Mr Dawson does that humble determined thing he does so well while nursing his own private heartache, and Cillian Murphy is excellent as a broken soldier who brings the tragedy of war to Dawson’s boat, unable to contain his trauma – arguably the consequences of this subplot is one of the few missteps in the film but doesn’t detract from Murphy’s performance.   

There are also a host of rising stars who add to this solid work from more established actors. First Fionn Whitehead as Tommy is the audience’s way into the film. With less dialogue than some of the supporting cast, Whitehead carries most of the soldier-journey conveying both the youth of the men fighting with the jaded weariness of the experienced fighter, seeing death and barely responding to it.

Harry Styles doesn’t disgrace himself or pull focus as a soldier prepared to clamber over anyone to be first in line for rescue, and the film frequently plays with the hero-villain divide, letting individual actions repel you while still appreciating the wider fighting hell they’ve gone through – it’s not all plucky good natured-heroism but something much more complex and human. There’s also excellent work from Jack Lowden as Tom Hardy’s fellow fighter pilot who finds himself frustratedly watching the action from another story while dealing with accusations of abandonment from the army.

The much-anticipated Dunkirk absolutely lives up to the hype and is a film that subverts the established war-movie model and makes it a thrilling but unsentimental experience until the very end, where it’s gets a little cheesy for 5 minutes. But Nolan’s skill is in reminding us that Dunkirk may have been a ‘victory of survival’ but it was far from the end of the war, and in a way, the fate of all the characters is a reminder that there was so much more to do. Dunkirk is an extraordinary war film that aptly celebrates an extraordinary moment in British military history where systematised war and the courage of fighting men met with the bravery of civilian little boats – there is certainly some kind of miracle in that.

Dunkirk is on general release from Friday 21 July in cinemas nationwide. For more information on BFI previews, visit their website. Follow this blog on Twitter @culturalcap1


Film Review: Legend

Something has shifted in the making of biopics in the last few years, and while most of them still ascribe to the ‘great men of history’ approach whereby the individual (almost certainly male) creates significant change almost single-handedly, more often film-makers are looking to the women in their lives as a new way ‘in’ to the story. Last year the incredible success of The Theory of Everything did just that, showing us the achievements of Stephen Hawking through the eyes of his first wife Jane, casting fresh light on the personal and family struggles that have been obscured by his scientific achievement and fame.

In Legend writer and director Brian Helgeland gives the Krays the same treatment, examining their motivation using Reggie’s relationship with wife Frances to explain not just the apparent glamour of their empire but also how her suicide signalled its downfall. The central conceit of course is that Tom Hardy plays both Reggie and Ronnie Kray, twins both alike and simultaneously demarcated by their different personalities and approaches. It’s an interesting film but perhaps not the one many people would expect to see on hearing the name Kray; the violence is there but without the Tarantino-esque brutality it’s not particularly graphic, instead you get lots and lots of style as Helgeland portrays the clubs, the music and the mixture of people from all classes – it’s like Mad Men with guns.

The humanity of it is perhaps the most interesting aspect. Last week’s preview screening at the BFI was followed by a Q&A with the director who explained his research process, discussions with some of the people who knew them from gang members to their mother’s hairdresser by way of Barbara Windsor (who gets a name check in the film). Often with characters that loom so large on the historic and cultural landscape the stories about them become the truth making it far harder to wade through the myths and nonsense to get a sense of who they were. Belying the title then, Helgeland attempts to do this and he’s partially successful in delivering some insight into the community around them and into Reggie in particular.

Tom Hardy’s performance is a mixed one and I have to agree with most of the reviewers, enjoying his very nuanced and appealing Reggie but disconcerted by the almost entirely comic depiction of the less featured Ron that somehow felt as though it sat outside the rest of the film. As Helgeland revealed during the Q&A, Hardy had to play both roles on the same day and constantly switching between the two is a considerable achievement, so understandably one characterisation feels much cruder. And, in playing both roles, Hardy has no counterpoint to act with, having to decide in advance and teach a stunt double the relevant ‘Ron’ mannerisms even before he’d filmed that side of the conversation, giving him much less freedom to ‘play’ with the character in the scene. And sadly that does come across – it is very funny at times but a cartoonish gangster character that feels rather stilted.

Reggie by contrast is Hardy at his best, filling the character with contradictions and charisma. He starts off quite tenderly pursuing Frances, against the wishes of her mother, and wowing her with the glamour of his lifestyle. There is an edge of danger but one which he seems to be in control of, meting out punishments only when necessary and keeping elements of his club business ‘legit’ to avoid investigation. As the film progresses Hardy is very good at showing the conflict of having to protect his increasingly unstable brother from his own delusions while keeping the businesses ticking over. Later in the film too there’s a chance to question how alike they really are as Reggie’s violence explodes in one of the film’s climactic moments.

The film is two thirds narrated by Frances, played by Emily Browning, so you get both her perspective from within the story and from the outside summing it up. Yet she’s a character that never properly unfolds which Helgeland excused by saying he didn’t want to invent things about her that he couldn’t find out from the research – and it seems there was little proper recollection of her among the people he spoke to. Browning makes Frances sweet and fragile but the lack of character on the page never really explains why her marriage declines and within moments Frances has gone from blissfully happy wife to deep depression and heavy dependency on pills. Her existence in the film and the angle onto the Krays that she provides is an interesting one though, and again Helgeland made the point that after her death, all the things Reggie used to do to protect the community (bribes, checking in on police visits etc) just stopped and that’s when the empire fell apart. That change comes across well in the film and we see Frances’s suicide as a pivotal moment in Reggie’s own decline – just a shame that the only major female character feels so fleeting.

In true Helgeland-style the police are also portrayed as a mixed bag of decent crusaders looking for justice like Detective Leonard ‘Nipper’ Read played here by an under-used Christopher Ecclestone, very much in LA Confidential’s Ed Exley mode, and the pockets of corruption where we hear of policeman taking bribes and see a thuggish guard mercilessly beat Reggie on his first day in prison (again like Stensland from LA Confidential). This again isn’t explored in much depth but does give a hint at why and how the Krays were able to survive for so long. Although the violence is somewhat muted, it does still punctuate the film, used as milestones on their road to destruction. First the character of Jack McVitie is seen repeatedly stepping out of line for which he receives punishment from Reggie and only later do we realise the common thread binding those two together. We are also given increasing tension between the brothers induced by Frances’s push for Reggie to ‘go straight’, which finally erupts in a punch-up between them at the Esmeralda Club, signalling the beginning of the end. And finally there is a beautifully shot scene after Reggie’s climatic outburst as he walks through the darkened streets of the East End, emerging into the lamplight from under a shadowy railway arch, covered in blood – a public declaration that he’s gone too far.

It’s no coincidence that I began this review with a comparison to The Theory of Everything because it actually has a lot in common with Legend (besides the shared producers). Both use a marital relationship as a way to see well known men in a new light and to unpick the surrounding layers of fame and folklore, but more than that, the style of both films, their sparkly look and feel are similar. Maybe the violence is held back, maybe the story is too sanitised and maybe it glorifies their regime too much, but you do get a sense of the rest of that world and why so many people, from working class gang members to peers, Ministers and celebrities of the day were drawn to their flame. Legend may not be the film you expect but it reinforces our continued fascination with one of Britain’s most famous criminal families, the Krays.

Legend is on general release from Wednesday 9 September in the UK and 2 October in the US. This preview screening took place at the BFI Southbank so visit their website for similar events.

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