Many know me as a member of writer/director Christopher Nolan's devout fanbase that has made him one of the select household-name directors prolifically working today. While that is admittedly true, my fanboying has significantly diminished in recent years. Like many, I have my fair share of qualms about Nolan's sci-fi epic Interstellar, and have become increasingly aware of the flaws of his work. In return, my appreciation of him has become more balanced and well-rounded, and I still hold deep respect and admiration for who is essentially this generation's iconic auteur. Naturally, I was very excited for his latest release Dunkirk, especially after seeing the glowing reviews. The surprisingly short runtime was also a breath of relief. My expectations were high but managed, as I tried to learn as much about the film as possible without delving into spoiler territory.
Needless to say, my expectations were met. The visceral thrills this movie provides are matched only by this decade's best blockbusters – Gravity and Mad Max: Fury Road. (In my opinion, these two movies, especially the latter, are as close to perfect as it gets.) Similarities between these three movies abound; they are all non-stop roller coasters from start to finish. Nolan provides sparse dialogue and brief rooms to breathe before he throws you right back into the spectacle. And the spectacle works very well. The harrowing film recreates the dreadful atmosphere of war, without needing to delve into what is now called "war porn" – spilled intestines, rampant shrapnel, and demonic enemies. "War porn" was pioneered by Saving Private Ryan and most recently exemplified by Hacksaw Ridge, but Dunkirk is more akin to the pure survival/horror of Gravity and action/adventure of Fury Road. This subversion of genre tropes and violence that is not seen but felt are Nolan's leading accomplishments.
However, what Nolan adds on top of Gravity and Fury Road is his director's trademark – non-linear storytelling paired with cross-cutting editing. From breakout hit Memento to personal favorite The Prestige, almost all of Nolan's films feature some form of non-linear storytelling. This originates from Nolan's fascination with how the cinematic medium manipulates temporality, and is well-experimented in Interstellar on the basis of relativity. The experiment continues, this time in fully-fledged feature-length form, to both benefit and detriment. Dunkirk is divided into three timelines – the mole, the sea, the air – that start at different points and converge at the very end. This approach is arguably necessitated; otherwise, Tom Hardy would only have 5 minutes of screen time. Showing certain events not once but thrice also reinforces some of the film's themes, such as the repetitive, hellish experience of the soldiers and the elaborate effort needed from all three parties to coordinate the miracle of the evacuation. On top of that, the convergence (i.e. the entire third act) is done beautifully and comes to an emotionally satisfying crescendo. However, the non-linearity is hampered by the editing. Non-linear narratives, especially ones as intricate and convoluted as Dunkirk, create unavoidable confusion, and a key part of the editor's job is to lessen the confusion and smoothen the audiences' viewing experience. Editor Lee Smith's work leaves much to be desired, as he does not help the audiences piece the puzzle together. There was one point when I felt the editing almost butchered the cleverness and brilliance of Nolan's presentation of his themes through the structure. I also had issues with the editing in Interstellar – this seems to be a worrying trend.
Another major point of criticism, other than the non-linear storytelling, is the supposed "lack of character development" and resultant "disconnection with the viewer". I found myself deeply engrossed by the drama and felt nothing but gripping connection. The lack of character backstory is another welcome subversion of genre tropes and contributes significantly to the unstopping tension and authenticity of the film. It never made me care less for the characters. There is no love story backdrop in the vein of fellow disaster flick Titanic. What I see in Dunkirk is hundreds of thousands of people facing an insurmountable challenge and near-certain death. Their struggle, in the face of such overwhelming calamity, is palpable. As Mencius would have noted, it is the human instinct to care for them. I am alarmed by all these reports of "disconnection" with the characters, for these viewers must be stone-cold and devoid of empathy. I was also very moved by the third act when the Miracle of Dunkirk happened, and it had nothing to do with my British passport. Patriotism is indeed heavy, but the emotional reassurance that comes with the glorious yet bittersweet ending easily and universally warms the hearts of audiences worldwide.
The sound of the film is also noteworthy. By no means a historian, I was very pleased to read reports of how accurate the sound effects of the planes were. The second presentation of Dunkirk I saw featured absolutely earth-shattering sound which put audiences right on the shore, at the sea, or airborne. Watching the film was truly an experience that attacked every inch of all the senses. I was also intrigued but ultimately approving of Nolan's use of the score. Almost every second of the film features Hans Zimmer's score. While many have complained since Interstellar that Nolan overuses the score to cheaply manipulate the audiences' emotion, I found his placing of the score more of a thematic statement than a suspension device. However, I was letdown by Zimmer's score itself. With leitmotifs found only sparingly, it is certainly no masterpiece à la Inception and Interstellar. The central theme, "Supermarine", is great work but merely standard fare from Zimmer et al., and negatively reminiscent of "Mombasa" from Inception. The emotional high-points are heightened not by Zimmer's original work but by Elgar's famous (and arguably overused) "Nimrod". I do understand Nolan and Zimmer's use of Elgar's work – "Nimrod" is indeed the quintessential British piece, and it would be pointless to try to emulate Elgar. However, this lack of originality severely detracts from the score. Most of Zimmer's work is atmospherically haunting and complements the film appropriately, but hardly stands on its own.
Other aspects such as Hoyte van Hoytema's cinematography and Nathan Crowley's production design are brilliantly spectacular and accurate yet never distastefully glorifying or glamorous. The cast works harmoniously, and I was particularly impressed by heartthrob Harry Styles' charismatic acting debut. It is these performances, not clichéd backstories, that flesh out characters. Dunkirk is a superbly crafted sensory experience and a fascinating albeit occasionally troublesome cinematic experiment. Has Nolan cooked up a flawless concoction of his ambitious vision and daring execution? Almost, but not yet; this film is within an inch of being his magnum opus. There are conspicuous shortcomings, but they can be forgiven, as Nolan has created a tour de force that fills the eye with spectacle, the mind with profoundness, and the heart with sentiment.