Director Anthony Maras’ fact-based drama opens on a grim scene that evokes 1998’s Saving Private Ryan.
It’s late April 1944. An ashen-faced Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) slowly walks along Slapton Sands beach in Devon, horrified by the multitude of dead and wounded soldiers, some floating in the waves lapping at the shore. It’s the ghastly wake of Exercise Tiger, a two-day D-Day rehearsal which, because of miscommunication, resulted in the deaths of at least 750 American servicemen, hundreds due to friendly fire.
 |
| Meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott, right) isn't surprised when his forecast for the impending D-Day invasion — advising against mounting the offensive on the chosen day — angers Gen. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser), but he quietly refuses to change his mind. |
The prologue amplifies Eisenhower’s determination to make no mistakes on D-Day.
It’s also the first of two “I never knew that” revelations within this film, adapted by Maras and playwright David Haig from the latter’s 2012 play of the same title.
We cut to June 2, inside the London home of eminent Scottish meteorologist James Stagg (Andrew Scott) and his very pregnant wife, Liz (Tamsin Topolski). Just as they finish breakfast, Stagg is collected by a military escort, having been appointed Chief Meteorological Officer for the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force, commanded by Eisenhower.
(In November 1943, Stagg was granted an emergency commission with the rank of group captain in the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve, giving him an essential level of authority in a military milieu unaccustomed to outsiders ... a detail that this film’s script should have supplied.)
Stagg arrives at the heavily guarded Southwick House, and is thrown amidst a group of several dozen researchers and meteorologists under the command of American Col. Irving P. Krick (Chris Messina), who accurately supplied weather conditions for Eisenhower’s earlier African and Middle-Eastern campaigns. Krick and this new team have been tasked with selecting the optimal conditions for the Normandy landing: a specific overlap of weather, the tides, the time of day, and the phase of the moon.
They’ve relied on information sent by amateur and professional weather watchers studying conditions, and sending up weather balloons, from hundreds of locations in surrounding countries and bodies of water. Armed with all this data — and one other factor, to be discussed in a moment — Krick confidently assures Eisenhower that conditions will be perfect at 6:30 a.m. Monday, June 5.
(No, that isn’t a typo. It’s the basis of this drama.)
The dour, fastidiously precise Stagg is dismayed by this casually sloppy working environment: the antithesis of his exacting standards. That puts him into immediate conflict with the team, and particularly with the brash and cock-sure Krick ... and by extension with Eisenhower, who trusts Krick implicitly.
More crucially, Stagg is troubled by Krick’s reliance on analyzing patterns and cycles on old weather maps that resemble the current situation, thereby insisting that future developments are most likely to mimic such patterns.
“The weather never replicates its own history,” snaps an exasperated Stagg, whose more scientific approach focuses on the causes of current and impending weather conditions.
Employing his own methodology — “If we measured it, I want it,” he says, early on —and increasingly worried about the potential arrival of two massive thunderstorms, Stagg becomes convinced that June 5 would be a terrible choice.
Eisenhower, however, deals in absolutes. When Stagg is asked if he’s certain, he must admit that it’s his best opinion, based on mounting evidence. Worse yet, all of these upper-echelon military leaders cannot help looking skeptical when noting the gorgeous sunny sky outside.
And, so, the dramatic clashes are established.
Scott is note-perfect as the socially awkward Stagg, frequently the target of contemptuous smirks from Messina’s far more charismatic Krick, and nose-to-nose fury from Fraser’s no-nonsense Eisenhower. Scott (mostly) stands silently, blinking nervously, until such verbal assaults conclude: clearly intimidated, but nonetheless unbroken. The man’s resolve is plain in Scott’s gaze.
The actor perfectly captures how the actual Royal Navy’s Admiral Sir George Creasy once described the meteorologist: when delivering forecasts, his manner was “six feet two inches of Stagg, and six feet one inch of gloom.”
Messina is equally fine as the arrogant Krick, playing him as a guy who’s also the life of every party. Even when working amid the team, Messina swaggers; Stagg seems no match for Krick’s contemptuous gaze and condescending smile. He’s the sort of pompous bully who simply cannot believe he could be wrong.
Krick is Salieri, to Stagg’s Mozart.
Fraser’s moments of fury aside, his Eisenhower struggles to properly weigh the options. Even when angry with Stagg, the general doesn’t assume that this quiet scientist should be disbelieved. Eisenhower doesn’t want to make a mistake that might replicate the calamity of Exercise Tiger.
Kerry Condon has a key supporting role as Eisenhower’s loyal aide, Lt. Kay Summersby, who serves as this saga’s empath. Condon exudes shrewd perception, making Summersby an essential buffer and go-between who intervenes when the general over-reacts, and senses when either Krick or Stagg need counseled words of encouragement.
Condon and Fraser also suggest an underlying spark of something emotionally deeper, but we’re left to speculate. (It’s pretty certain that the actual Eisenhower and Summersby were no more than close colleagues and friends.)
Damian Lewis has fun with his handling of Field Marshal Bernard “Monty” Montgomery, who clearly loves to needle both Eisenhower and Stagg. In the press notes, Maras explains that “the real Montgomery was deliciously unbearable,” and Lewis effectively conveys that.
Volker Bertelmann’s lovely, stirring and occasionally poignant orchestral score shares space with period tunes such as “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” and Cab Calloway’s “Hi De Ho Man.”
Finally, a technical objection. The single opening credit bluntly promises that “This is a true story,” and one must be careful when claiming as much. Yes, the core conflict is accurate ... but Maras and Haig’s script omits the equally crucial presence of Norwegian meteorologist Sverre Petterssen, undoubtedly to put more focus on Stagg. The filmmakers also goose dramatic tension by “enhancing” one crisis, and that’s less forgivable.
That aside, this is a fascinating, skillfully acted and directed account of a WWII detail most folks likely never knew about.
No comments:
Post a Comment