Movie Review: “Churchill” Goes Nowhere – Just Like Winston’s Battle Strategy

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A ticking-clock thriller following Winston Churchill in the 96 hours before D-Day.

Brian Cox is one of our great character actors, whom everyone recognizes – “ah, it’s that guy from ‘Troy’!” – but not many can actually name. About half a decade before Anthony Hopkins tasted delectable human flesh in “Silence of the Lambs,” Cox gave an equally harrowing, albeit significantly less heralded performance as the original Hannibal Lecter in Michael Mann’s 1986 cult classic “Manhunter.” The film underperformed and, instead of catapulting Cox to fame, led to a steady career of strong, memorable supporting parts, ranging from blockbusters (“Braveheart,” “The Bourne Identity,” “Rise of the Planet of the Apes”) to indie gems (“Rushmore,” “Adaptation,” and my personal favorite Cox performance, Big John Harrigan in Michael Cuesta’s little-seen, hard-to-watch 2001 drama “L.I.E.”). Jonathan Teplitzky (director of the tepid 2013 Nicole Kidman vehicle, “The Railway Man”), must be a big fan of Cox’s work, casting him as the lead in his low-budget biographical snippet “Churchill”. Preachy, reverential and by-the-numbers, this heartfelt but misguided project serves as an excellent showcase of a great actor elevating sub-par material.

The film opens on the “1,736th day of WWII” (I wonder what the starting point of this “countdown” was, and whether Alex von Tunzelmann, the screenwriter, actually used a calendar and a calculator). As Winston Churchill, who’s seen his share of battles, stands on the ocean shore, he watches its waves turn crimson with the blood of his memories and solemnly swears: “I mustn’t let it happen again.” Yet doubt shadows his eyes – doubt, as it turns out, regarding Operation Overlord, devised by Dwight Eisenhower (John Slattery) and approved by His Majesty Himself, King George VI (James Purefoy). “This plan may be admirable in its bravery,” Winston warns them, “but in its risks, it is foolhardy.” His efforts to stop it, however, are futile – he’s a dinosaur stuck in a well-oiled machine, afforded, out of respect for his past heroic deeds, the courtesy of witnessing but not participating in any aspects of warfare. Only, according to Churchill, “It’s not warfare, it’s butchering, and I can’t let them do it to our men.”

Teplitzky follows the trials and tribulations Winston faces in his quest for having his voice heard: coming face-to-face with Eisenhower, the King, an army general – just to keep getting repeatedly rejected. His relationship with Clementine (poor Miranda Richardson, reduced to the “sensible wife role”), falters. “Why don’t you just have me stuffed?!” he hollers at her, before receiving a hearty slap. It all leads to, well, nothing: Operation Overlord goes into effect on the north coast of France as planned. A glorious final speech, delivered by Churchill, feigning enthusiasm while realizing his own insignificance, almost saves the clichéd narrative – until it proceeds to end on another gag-inducing note.

This film is less a “ticking-clock thriller,” as its IMDB description claims, than a languid study of a once-great man who’s left with no choice but to surrender to the “perils” of evolution and take second fiddle to a new generation. An admirable theme, then, seen through the prism of an important figure at a crucial point in our history. The issue’s that the film gets its point across within the first 20 minutes – and then proceeds to relentlessly pound us over the head with it for almost two hours. There’s no discernible progress in plot or character development. It’s all one-note: Winston’s desperation and helplessness against the inevitable – the war, the future, death. Speeches about “slaughter” and “hope” are solemnly delivered, over and over again. A ponderous drama, “Churchill” relies on tropes and provides very little in the way of spontaneity or originality. The lack of subtlety is not helped by Lorne Balfe’s insistent sentimental score, swooping in every several minutes to remind us how we should feel. Someone should check the battery in that “ticking-clock,” because it seems to have stalled.

Prone to preaching, with cheesy lines like “Britain will thank you, Winston… forever,” “Churchill” never gains momentum due to its lack of true insight. A character stating, “When you reach calm waters, it is easy to forget the captain who steered you through the storm,” is as close to wisdom as this film gets. The rest of the dialogue is 95% filler sap like, “Men will die tomorrow. Do not let a single one of them die in vain,” or “The men do their duties and we do ours,” and so on and so forth. Winston’s prayer to God about the weather, an orchestral choir “cheering” him on, takes the cake as “Most Blatantly Manipulative and Obvious Scene of 2017 So Far.” “Who will I be, when it’s all over?” he spells out the film’s Big Theme towards the end. “You’ll always be the man who led us through this,” Clementine answers. Ugh.

Luckily, it’s not all dire. Brian Cox is a live-wire, prone to violent outbursts, growling at his own reflection in the mirror, chomping on his cigar as forcefully as he does on scenery, reprimanding his assistant on her transcribing skills, but also deeply insecure, neglected, hanging on to his past and filled with remorse for the fallen souls of war. Hunched over, at times barely recognizable under layers of make-up, the actor’s wise eyes shine through, guiding us through the morose proceedings. No amount of make-up could hide John Slattery though. I like the actor, but I have trouble seeing him as anything but Roger Sterling from the TV series “Mad Men” – it’s the poise, the mannerisms, the intonations. He can’t seem to escape from the shadow of this giant, like, say, his co-star Elizabeth Moss did (you don’t see “Peggy” when you watch her Offred in Hulu’s “The Handmaid’s Tale”). When Slattery’s Eisenhower proclaims, “The war you’re talking about, that was 30 years ago. I don’t think you appreciate how much things have moved on,” he may as well be talking to Don Draper.

What could have been a nerve-shredding thriller a la Roger Donaldson’s underrated “Thirteen Days” or a blistering character study, like Spielberg’s “Lincoln,” ends up a lukewarm, repetitive slog, much like the Teplitzky’s previous effort. It’s not without its merits – dashes of poignancy, some nice cinematography, impressive costume/set design, and it’s almost worthy for seeing the lead performance by Cox alone, who adds several much-needed notes to this otherwise one-note study. Perhaps the man will get a lead role in a film deserving of his talents yet. Someone should put him back in touch with Michael Mann.

In select theaters Friday, June 2nd