Overlord focuses on one soldier, Tom (Brian Stirner), as he enters the military, trains for and finally takes part in the D-Day landings, all the while believing he will die in combat. The simple recommendation is: if you want an action movie, you will be disappointed by this movie (as I was when I first saw it years ago); if you thought this was the 2018 Overlord, you will have a vast range of responses, one of which will almost certainly be disappointment; however, if you’re interested in World War II movies as a genre, you must see this and will find it interesting at least sometimes and perhaps engaging and poignant. This is in no way to denigrate people looking for action movies set during the Second World War; I am one of those people, and I think this movie is worth watching anyway.

This film makes extensive use of archival footage. Director Stuart Cooper (actor, The Dirty Dozen) was initially going through the massive amount of footage housed at the Imperial War Museum in England to make a documentary when he conceived the film.

I’ve seen estimates of the film being between twenty-seven and forty-five percent archival footage. No movie I’ve yet seen uses old footage better, though Theirs Is the Glory may do it nearly as neatly. Listening to the director’s commentary, I learned some aerial shots I thought were archival were done by Cooper and cinematographer John Alcott (Barry Lyndon, A Clockwork Orange). The look of the footage doesn’t tell you it’s archival, and finally you stop playing “Spot the Archival Footage,” unless you’re a really big fan of the game.

Cooper uses this footage in a number of ways: one is to show parts of the protagonist’s story without paying a huge amount of money for sets and extras. There is footage of soldiers training and of the D-Day landings that allow Cooper to fill out the close focus moments of Tom and his fellow soldiers in a landing craft, parade ground or barracks. The new footage instead shows an intensely personal story of one man’s reaction to the epic unfolding around him, one he is an infinitesimal part of.

And the archival footage helps show how small a part one man was. The film begins with footage of Adolph Hitler in a plane flying over parts of Europe he has conquered, some devastated, some untouched and beautiful. This is juxtaposed with images of buildings in England that have been bombed. Sounds and sights of strafing runs seamlessly blend into the sound of a train Tom is on. There is a constant juxtaposition of scenes of violence and destruction and the huge machinery of war and Tom by himself, not really having a place in it; some of these scenes are horrifying—many are beautiful.

Cooper also uses this footage to evoke the time. We see children being put on trains, leaving the dangers of London and firemen struggling against house fires raging out of control. The following sequence is in effect a music video for one song recorded during the war. This song, though comedic, has a undeniable melancholy. This scene moves the plot forward and shows Tom as only a small part of something happening all over England, and it feels real because it largely is.

“We Don’t Know Where We’re Going (Until We’re There!)”

One thing that strikes me about this movie and some other films I’ve seen recently is the attempts of average people to live their average lives while the war relentlessly intrudes. Tom’s Mum and Dad see him off to war and promise to take care of his dog; Tom takes a book, Dickens, with him. He misses a train because of delays caused by bombings and walks to the barracks. It is all sort of normal, but during all of this, Tom also envisions himself dying on the battlefield and there are signs of destruction.

He meets and kisses a girl (Julie Neesam) who is utterly charming; his unit is moved the next day, and we fear he may never see her again. She’s so shy and earnest and awkward and cute, she’s like a dream. And of course she becomes a dream to him, one that may bring him hope or make his lack of hope all the more devastating.

In between the brutal and uncompromising routine of army training, soldiers smoke and talk about everyday things. Tom receives birthday gifts in the mail including a key to the family house, which is part of a family ritual when you turn twenty-one. Tom is touched by the gift and convinced he will never be able to use it. They also give him a pen, and he writes a crucial letter to his parents which is both mundane and moving.

Even though it is certainly safe to say this is an anti-war film or at least one that rejects typical notions of heroism, Tom is not himself a coward or even angry about what he believes is his inevitable death. He says only one thing about the war itself. The girl asks him why be a soldier, and though he is firmly convinced he will die, he responds: “It’s got to be done; we’ve got to finish it and pay off the ones who started it.” He’s not clever or special, and this makes his sacrifice no less important. He is the most realistic and effective everyman I have yet seen in a World War II film.

I watched this movie some time in the twentieth century. I went to Blockbuster (or maybe Erol’s, the local video rental chain at the time) and saw a movie about the D-Day invasion on the shelf, so I rented it, hoping for an action movie, and was immensely disappointed. Watching the movie for this project, I expected some of the same disappointment (one I also initially had with D-Day the Sixth of June, which I fully expect to have if I ever re-watch that film), but I was not disappointed. I found the movie impressive and interesting; I cared about Tom and the decisions he made, and I wanted him to be able to see the girl again even though I knew he probably never would.

Recommendation

This movie is available through the Criterion Collection. You can buy it through my Amazon Associate link, but read this first.