Darkest Hour

On Monday afternoon we took the tram to the nearest UGC cinema in Talence to see Darkest Hour in VOSTF. There were four people in the room. Well, it was Monday afternoon.

Of course, watching the film in Bordeaux probably increases the visceral blow of the film. How do you defend against panzers and blitzkrieg? How do you negotiate with totalitarianism? How do you willingly wake up from a nightmare?

I had a new appreciation for the pace of events. In just two weeks everything was unleashed.

I wondered at Chamberlain. Was he really such an evil old buzzard, controlling the voices and reactions of his party with just the flick of his handkerchief? Could this be a true portrait? At the same tie I have known people like that and, to my lifelong shame, I have not always explained the danger of their habits.

I wondered at Churchill's energy. He was born in 1874, so at the outbreak of war he was already 65. No wonder he needed his naps! And his drink!

It would be good to find a historian's review of the film. What about the King's change of heart?

And then Brexit. Probably for the UK it doesn't matter much whether we are in the EU or not. I mean, obviously, economically it matters hugely, and probably in terms of rights and protection of citizens, too. But in the event of war on the continent of Europe, it is hard to see how Britain can avoid getting drawn in.

Perhaps the real hero of the film is the spoken word. Popular folklore credits Churchill with winning the war by means of the radio, and without in any way overlooking my father's, and others' sacrifice in devoting the best years of their youth to combatting the fascist plague, I would like to believe that that is true.

Here is one historian's take on the film