Churchill (PG)

Three stars

Dir: Jonathan Teplitzky

With: Brian Cox, Miranda Richardson, John Slattery

Running time: 98mins

JONATHAN Teplitzky’s Churchill may struggle to hold up to historical scrutiny, but it remains a compelling character study of one of history’s most enigmatic figures.

It also boasts another towering central performance from Brian Cox, a Scottish acting legend who is no stranger to great roles, as well as lessons about approaching war that hold plenty of contemporary resonance.

Set in the three days before D-Day, the film chronicles the well documented, but little known, reservations that the British Prime Minister had about sending British and American troops to near-certain slaughter on the beaches of Normandy.

Haunted by his own experiences in Gallipoli during the First World War, and battling depression, Churchill attempts to avert the landings in a bid to buy more time and reduce the potential number of casualties. But he is continually rebuked and undermined by his military commanders, with both Generals Dwight D Eisenhower and Bernard Montgomery, keen to press ahead.

Based upon a script by historian and author Alex von Tunzelmann, Teplitzky’s film does take artistic licence with elements of history – most notably, the timing of Churchill’s doubt, which was expressed much earlier than depicted and before he became one of D-Day's biggest architects and proponents. But it instead uses this to both heighten the dramatic tension and as a gateway to explore the character of a man who acknowledged his lifelong battle with depression, yet who could inspire a nation; a man who could be dogged by personal failure yet still find a route to victory.

In doing so, it provides Cox with the perfect platform to deliver a thoughtful, layered portrayal of one of last century's central figures. His Churchill is a man haunted by past experience and by mental illness, who is mindful of the sacrifices he is asking his men to make. He is also someone seemingly aware of his own legacy and of the pitfalls of bad decision making.

And yet there is a bullish quality about him too that is, by turns, unabashed and brilliant, but which teeters on the edge of personal folly, even madness. A scene in which Churchill berates his secretary for failing to understand a word is lifted straight from a real-life memoir, as are the insights into his capacity for acts of tenderness and humility. They provide Cox’s performance with fascinating contrasts.

The screenplay even draws on the diaries of Lord Alanbrooke (or Brookie in the film) for further insights, referencing "his undue interference, excessive drinking and his falling energy levels" in the run-up to D-Day. Again, they provide Cox with plenty to chew on, stripping away some of the confidence associated with the man in order to examine the insecurities and the difficulty of combating his depression, or "Black Dog" as he referred to it.

Teplitzky, for his part, doesn’t shy away from shooting Cox in a style that captures the iconography associated with Churchill, often surrounding him in plumes of cigar smoke (a metaphor for the fog of war, perhaps?), while offering Cox plenty of opportunity to exercise the vocal prowess for which Churchill was renowned.

And he allows room for sturdy support, too, from the likes of John Slattery and Julian Wadham as, respectively, Eisenhower and Montgomery, and from Miranda Richardson as his long-suffering wife, Clemmie, who brings dignity and resilience to her few short scenes as his confidante and moral compass. James Purefoy’s stuttering King George VI is afforded one terrific scene, too, which is particularly poignant.

By placing such an emphasis on performance, however, and refusing to set foot on the actual battlefields of World War Two, Teplitzky does run the risk of making his film – which was co-financed by Creative Scotland – seem too pedestrian for some tastes, particularly those anticipating Christopher Nolan’s impending Dunkirk.

But if viewed solely as a fascinating exploration of the title character, then Churchill does succeed as an insightful, often moving and frequently gripping affair that is surprisingly relevant in spite of its artistic playfulness.

Just as he did with The Railway Man (his account of the late Second World War hero Eric Lomax), Teplitzky has opted for a more personal approach that examines the psychological toll of war on another of its biggest characters.