Darkest Hour

Tropic Sprockets by Ian Brockway

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Joe Wright (Hanna, Atonement) directs a pitch perfect film on Churchill and his struggle during World War II. This is essentially a character study of the man, his worries and the necessity of lifting up a nation under the threat of a Nazi invasion. Though the film, “The Darkest Hour” is very matter of fact in tone, it does have wonderful surrealistic touches. Better still, it is a great study on wartime Prime Minister, going far deeper than last year’s depressive drama “Churchill”.

Here, Winston Churchill (Gary Oldman) is up against it. The island nation is in crisis, divided regarding its trust in the new PM and his credentials. With each passing day Hitler grows stronger and fear increases. Chamberlain (Ronald Pickup) and Halifax (Stephen Dillane) feel disrespected and slighted by the new leader and promise resignation in the hopes of getting him out of office. Meanwhile, the man in power frets and barks (authentically so) and carries an inspirational voice, galvanizing a generation.

The more this icon is down, the more he rises to the occassion and that is the key to this film. Churchill ceases to be an ancient and detached historical figure. Under the magic of Gary Oldman’s acting, Churchill is now the familiar Winston, a living man very like ourselves, of flesh and blood. Unlike the aforementioned film “Churchill,” we feel this leader’s soaring euphorias along with his nadir spirals. Oldman gives weight and spirit to his role and there is a real texture to his glowering, not just mere cosmetics. The supporting roles of Clementine (Kristen Scott-Thomas) and King George (Ben Mendelsohn) are also deftly executed. In the awkward King, the PM finds a sensitive friend. Regarding Clementine, behind every inspirational man there is an even more uplifting woman.

The film has terrific visual flourishes. In one particular scene, a green field pockmarked with bombs, merges into the eye of a dead young boy, his iris as clear as a painting by Magritte. In another, Churchill watches in horror as he witnesses tiny Adolph Hitlers rising from the gray asphalt. In dreams, these are horrors but in reality the monsters are but children in masks playing at something between history and Halloween.

Historians can now breathe a little easier. At last, “The Darkest Hour” reveals a man of steel, substance and vulnerable sadness on film, who is worth our observation, sensitivity and admiration. As interpreted by Gary Oldman, there exists an underdog soul within this percussively brash and decisive figure and, just as with southpaw boxers, you will be tempted to cheer for him.

Write Ian at ianfree2@yahoo.com