“He’s shell-shocked, George. He’s not himself. He may never be himself again.”
Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk is not a movie about dialogue, but that line from the film certainly says a lot about the movie and about those who will survive being trapped at Dunkirk. This movie is bleak. It’s wonderfully filmed. But it is bleak.
If a film is not about dialogue, then most is done through the visual story told. Sound adds a further dimension. And here, from the overhead planes to the bombs falling to the quiet to the screams, sound indeed adds a deep layer. The sweeping, grand score weaves everything together. But more so, what you see on the screen, especially how it is shot, is what moved me most.
The film portrays but a few hours on the French shore after the Allied forces are, literally, backed to the sea. It’s a historical piece, so sharing what happened isn’t exactly a spoiler (e.g., the Titanic hit an iceberg). But still, I won’t do that. If you don’t know the outcome, the movie will likely be wonderfully suspenseful with the accompanying roller coaster of emotions, several highs and lows included. If you do know the outcome, then you, like me, may very well especially appreciate how the film focuses as it does on the few that it focuses on. What we see in those faces who keep trying, what we see in the faces of those still fighting, what we see in those faces of those giving up, that is the story told in Dunkirk.
Often when a movie receives Directing and Best Picture noise, fantastic performances are part of the package. The acting here is good, but nothing is a stand-out. Just like this is not a movie about dialogue, it too is not a movie about character portrayal. The sea and war are the lead roles here. Fear and death take supporting parts. And Nolan’s ability to so artfully tell their tales through moving picture and sound is beautiful. Bleak, yes. But there can be beauty in the art of that.