Churchill is history for the hard of thinking

There is a story, probably apocryphal, that in the 1920s Charlie Chaplin entered a Chaplin lookalike competition for a lark -  and lost. He came second, third, or 21^st depending on which version you read. I suspect had we the time for such frivolity during the Second World War, Winston Churchill might have suffered the same fate as Chaplin. His sonorous tones and emphatic diction were much impersonated, mostly affectionately.

And it continues to the present day with the release of Churchill in which Dundonian Brian Cox is the latest to have a stab at playing the former Member of Parliament for Dundee. It is not an exclusive club. Cox follows Michael Gambon in last year’s Churchill’s Secret, John Lithgow made a decent fist of it in The Queen earlier this year, and we await Gary Oldman giving us his Winston in Darkest Hour in the autumn.

Given the nature of the man and the quality of the talent lining up to play him Churchill is a part to savour. He is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, as he once said of the Soviet Union but sadly this film provides little more than provide a broad-brush caricature. It’s like Churchill’s greatest hits. Boiler suit? Check. Cigar? Check. Homburg? Check. V-sign? Check. But despite all of this, nothing of the man.

Churchill focuses on the three days before D-Day in June 1944. The Allies, led by Eisenhower (John Slattery) and Montgomery (Julian Wadham), are ready to invade at Normandy but Churchill is uncertain. He is apparently haunted by the memory of the Dardanelles disaster in 1915; an incident which is so open to so many historical interpretations that this film decides simply not to tell the audience what happened. Just that it was A Very Bad Thing. We know this because Churchill keeps seeing the sea turn to blood.

In any event he is determined to alter the plans and, in his view, save the lives of thousands of young men but Montgomery and Eisenhower are having none of it. The plan is the plan and the only thing that can stop it is the weather.

This is an interesting moment in Churchill’s life. This is a man whose powers are waning; he would be unceremoniously voted out of office the following year, and there is a story to be told here. This however is not that story.

Cox careers around the War Room like a spoilt child throwing a tantrum; it’s a gross caricature. At times in this film I did rather get the impression that this must be what the White House is currently like. To humanise him Miranda Richardson pops up as his long-suffering wife, all bitter regret and rueful recrimination. And, just like The Imitation Game (2015), there is a doe-eyed secretary whose sweetheart is part of the invasion force who must give Churchill a piece of her mind.

The film is grievously wounded by two things. The first is the paucity of the budget. According to this we were invading France with about a dozen infantrymen spaced out to look bigger. You can almost see where the modern world begins at the edge of every frame – Glasgow City Chambers incidentally does sterling duty as a couple of marble-clad locations.

The real issue however is the script. This is the sort of film where characters stand around telling each other things they must already know just to catch the audience up. There is no characterisation or nuance here, just endless exposition and huge amounts of information taking the place of the plot. Also, every single line is freighted with the weight of its own self-importance making for pretty turgid stuff.

The kindest thing to be said about Churchill is that it is workmanlike. You might sit and watch it at home but having to pay the best part of a tennner is a bit much. Still, these days Churchill films are like buses – if you don’t care for this one there’ll be another along shortly.