Dunkirk

1940, France. 400,000 soldiers are trapped on the beach of Dunkirk awaiting evacuation, the German forces getting closer by the minute. German planes rain terrible destruction from the skies, the shrieking of their engines filling the air with eerie dread. U-Boats punch holes in the vast British destroyers, plunging many soldiers and nurses into watery graves. And, despite the best efforts of the French forces, the German soldiers on land push forward with vicious determination…

It is a nigh-on impossible task to re-create the terror and desperation going through the minds and souls of those soldiers who are just trying to survive and escape (not to mention the RAF men tasked with fending off the Luftwaffe), but writer-director Christopher Nolan has taken on many nigh-on impossible tasks throughout his career thus far. Most of these endeavours have paid off spectacularly; Nolan’s filmography is peppered with astounding achievements, some of which have arguably changed the ways in which film are constructed and marketed. How many superhero films since 2008 have tried to replicate the ‘dark and gritty’ feel of 2008’s The Dark Knight and how many films/trailers have used the signature ‘bwaam’ sound from the score for 2010’s Inception? And I’m going to cut right to the chase, here; Dunkirk not only joins Nolan’s list of monumental film achievements, but it’s also one of the best war films I’ve ever seen. From frame one to the moment Hans Zimmer’s mournful score cues the end credits, Dunkirk is a supremely harrowing accomplishment.

At a lean and decidedly mean 106 minutes, Dunkirk is one of Nolan’s shortest films (over an hour shorter than 2014’s Interstellar), and Nolan makes every minute count. From the very opening, I felt as if I was there alongside the soldiers, and when the first bullet pierced the silence, I felt a jolt of adrenaline and fear. That terror is present for almost the entire running time, overwhelming in its unrelenting verisimilitude.

The eerily visceral sound design is instrumental in the terror for both the audience and the men trying to escape; the banshee-like howl of the enemy planes as they slowly get closer and louder is almost numbing in the encroaching dread. For the men on the ground, the sound of those planes is death; all that matters is getting out of the way in time before the bombs drop. For the limited Royal Air Force fighters as embodied by Farrier (an electric Tom Hardy) and Collins (the unflappably likable Jack Lowden), it’s an unforgiving challenge of out-manoeuvring and out-witting their German counterparts in the skies above the sea. The aerial sequences are nothing less than staggering; the ways in which cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema captures the various, swooping angles of these planes as they duel across the breath-takingly vast panorama leaves the mind in utter disbelief, and the suspense is nerve-shredding. The use of real WW2-era vehicles (both air and sea, and including some used in the actual Dunkirk evacuations) only makes it that much easier to become mentally and physically entrenched in the situation, and again the impact of the bullets being fired and colliding against both the Allied and German aircraft comes with a resounding and merciless force.

Soldiers Tommy (Fionn Whitehead), Gibson (Aneurin Bernard) and Alex (Harry Styles) embody the men urgently trying to get off the beach. From the almost-nauseating apprehension of the opening scene, we immediately understand their drive to get out by any means necessary, and that investment is there throughout the run-time. We don’t know much about these characters, but I think that any way of giving these characters ‘moments’, like sitting down and talking or showing their worried families at home, would puncture the increasingly wrought bubble of unease that Nolan has so carefully and expertly crafted here. These are men fleeing to survive at any cost, and you feel that through Nolan’s faultless story-telling, the remarkably vital technical values and the focussed potency of the actors. Out of those on land, Styles is a stand-out, shedding his pop-star persona and essaying this role with skilled nuance. Whitehead and Bernard are both strong, while Kenneth Branagh and James D’Arcy also bring stressed poise and presence to their roles as Commander Bolton and Colonel Winant respectively, the highest-ranking men on the beach trying to get as many of their soldiers off the beach as possible. On the sea, Mr. Dawson (Mark Rylance), his son Peter (Tom Glynn-Carney) and their hand George (Barry Keoghan) venture towards the battle to help as many soldiers as possible. Rylance delivers perhaps the film’s most powerful performance as a man so motivated by his convictions that he’s willing to do anything to extricate all the men he can. Glynn-Carney is solid, while Barry Keoghan delivers a heartfelt portrayal which lends the film a touching poignancy. Cillian Murphy also does typically excellent work as a ‘shivering soldier’ the boat crew rescue on their way to Dunkirk, showing the raw distress of someone suffering from the effects of war.

The way in which Nolan presents these story threads is unconventional for a war film, but it works for several reasons. The first is that it adds a decisively Nolan-esque stamp to a genre which has been explored multiple times; the theme of time is one which plays a significant part in most of Nolan’s filmography, and that’s the case here once again. The second is that it amplifies the confusion of the soldiers fighting for survival and the fortitude of those coming to their aid, giving each of the individual strands perspective and purpose; the ticking clock prevalent in the critically intoxicating score from Zimmer (with contributions from both Lorne Balfe and Benjamin Wallfisch) confronts the theme of mortality with immeasurable urgency. Secondly, through Lee Smith’s extraordinary editing, the ways in which these individual narratives are welded together only enhances the tautness of the story-telling, lending each vista an interweaving power which serves to magnify the epic scope whilst giving the intimate moments even more weight.

From van Hoytema’s earthy yet gorgeous lensing to the piercingly compelling sound design, from the snare-drum tight editing to the flawless performances across the board, Dunkirk stuns with how meticulously it plunges the viewer into this terrifying part of history. I haven’t even mentioned the supremely pain-staking production design by Nathan Crowley or the exemplary costume design by Jeffrey Kurland, which add to the realism and therefore anxious fervour. The thousands of real-life extras and the use of practical effects wherever possible only further implement the frightening punch of the situation; I’ve discussed the breath-taking aerial battles, but the assaults on the sea are just as hair-raising. Seeing real ships being sunk with real extras clambering in and around them is incredible, with the lack of evident CGI only enhancing the anguish of those soldiers. And again, the camera angles are astonishing as we follow men scrambling across the shifting surfaces and clinging to whatever they can.  

With Dunkirk, Nolan has delivered a consummately masterful piece of cinematic audacity. Few war films have immersed the audience into the fearfulness of conflict with the same exactitude, and Nolan’s commitment to detail and using as little CGI as possible aids immensely. As has been highlighted in much of the advertisements, Nolan chose to shoot this film with IMAX cameras. And, as far as formats go, I couldn’t recommend seeing Dunkirk in IMAX highly enough. The film is designed to be seen on the biggest possible screen with the best possible sound system. The raptness of the experience is stunning, augmenting every resounding crack of a bullet and every striking image with greater visual and aural depth. Nolan’s verve as a director makes it worth paying the extra money for the IMAX experience. And that’s the best way to describe Dunkirk; an experience, one of innate force and impact. Nolan, his cast and crew pay stalwart tribute to the survivors, the fallen and heroes of the event, and Dunkirk is nothing less than an ascendant triumph.

Final Rating: 5 out of 5