Reflections on “Dunkirk”
(2017)
Written and directed by
Christopher Nolan,
starring Mark Rylance,
Tom Hardy and Cillian Murphy
Watching “Dunkirk” was
something of a visceral experience. It felt like more of a participation than a
viewing, and I think that was probably Christopher Nolan’s key intention and
purpose when planning his film – he wanted his audience to share the experience
he is presenting.
Nolan engages the senses
of the audience. The movement of the camera and positioning of shots allow us
to be involved in the action and to be impressed by sweeping vistas and the
sheer scale of the task of evacuation of so many men. Yet he is equally adept
at handling intense, confined scenes which allow us to share the immediate
experiences of all concerned in the evacuation process. Scenes are built
reflecting the fear, hope, safety, loss, destruction, devastation, insecurity,
defeat and celebration (survival is the enemy’s failure) of the evacuees and
those trying to ensure their evacuation.
I’m not sure I’ve ever
heard better use of sound than in this film. It wasn’t just loud, it was sharp,
intense, encompassing and heightened the sensations and reactions of the
audience so they could virtually feel the sheer power and deadly force of each
bullet.
The music (courtesy of
Hans Zimmer) became part of the sound experience and enhanced not only the
action and the drama, but the very sensations felt by the audience. At one
point the steady increase of sound/music and its intensity reflected not just
the physical approach of fighter planes and bombers, but an ever more
concentrated sense of expectation and imminent danger.
While I understand
Nolan’s desire and intentions in showing the same events from different
perspectives, emphasising the existential nature of actions and their impact on
others (often without realisation), their nonlinear presentation within the
ongoing timeline caused some confusion.
Throwing us in at the
deep end (having the audience join the action without preamble or explanation)
means no meaningful background or exposé of situation or character, so we have no
historical overview or perspective (we’re really no further forward in terms of
our historical knowledge and understanding by the end of the film), and we have
no real opportunity to build emotional ties to any of the characters (beyond
sympathy and understanding for their immediate circumstances).
Indeed, this amounts to a
certain emotional detachment for virtually all the characters in the film
because although we share their awful experiences, there is no construct in the
script to allow us to know or care about the characters beyond admiration for
their determination and courage, and sympathy for their situation.
The one exception is the
young lad on Mark Rylance’s boat who is hurt by the shipwrecked Cillian Murphy.
This story within a story seems tagged on and requires greater development – as
it is, it just rather tragically fizzles out. These are the only “artificial”
scenes in which an emotional situation and response are created and imposed – all
other scenes are “natural” and arise from the drama and genuine possibilities
of real events which could have applied to any of the evacuees.
So, a worthwhile venture
whose strengths in involvement in action and sharing experience bring about a
few weaknesses in engagement of emotion and historical context.
My thanks for taking the
time to read this page.
Stuart Fernie
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