One and a half years after its release, Christopher
Nolan’s Dunkirk remains a hotly discussed film. But although much has already been said
about the film’s technical qualities, its unique perspective on war, and its focus on
visual suspense over expository dialogue, not much attention has been paid to how Nolan’s
bare-bones visual approach still manages to convey a coherent and symbolically rich story.
I would argue that the true power of Dunkirk lies in Nolan’s ability to rely on visuals
to capture the essence of the event, conveying a transformation from meaninglessness and
desperation into a renewed spirit of defiant resilience and hope in the face of insurmountable
odds, ‘The Dunkirk Spirit’
In order to fully appreciate how Christopher Nolan relies on symbolism to convey the gradual
manifestation of the Dunkirk Spirit, we must first take a closer look at how the world
lays itself out in the symbolic worldview. Cosmological symbolism distinguishes between
two opposing dominions: ‘the dominion of time’ and the ‘dominion of space’, which
can roughly be translated to a dominion of chaos and a dominion of order. The dominion
of ‘time’ is defined as an endlessly self-negating force of cyclical transformation, presenting
itself as the naturally chaotic and confused world in which the normal order of things
is inverted and continuously flipped on its head. In other words, it’s a force often
visualized by a flood that regresses the established world back into a more primordial state, swallowing
it up within its chaos, but also leaving the possibility for something new to emerge in
its place. The dominion of space on the other hand can
be defined as the world in a state of order. It’s the artificially constructed stabilizing
power which rectifies the world and holds the pointless cyclical forces of the dominion
of time at bay. In the dominion of space, the world appears meaningful and in alignment,
a place in which things have clearly defined identities.
At the start of Dunkirk however, we find ourselves in a world at the brink of collapse. The 400.000
men of the British Expeditionary Force have been pushed back to the French-Belgian coast
having been surrounded by the enemy. As the Germans inch ever closer, only a miracle can
bring the British Army deliverance (shots fired) (lead up to shooting). As fighting
erupts a clock starts to tick, indicative both literally of the lack and the pressure
of time for the army to evacuate, but also symbolically signifying that we’ve now entered
into the dominion of time, the world now dominated by its will.
This fractured world also manifests itself in the way that Nolan fragments his narrative
into three sections: air, sea and land. Each narrative thread starts chronologically separated
from the others, making for an initially disjointed whole, adding again to this chaotic state
of time. The main physical representation of this dominion
however is notably not the invading German Army. In fact, Nolan consciously avoids mentioning
and showing the Germans and instead opts to have them function as a looming, mostly invisible
threat… ‘The enemy’ in Dunkirk is thereby made
more universal. The narrative is not about fighting a defined enemy army, but about surviving
an impending flood. Following that analogy, the waters of the English Channel take on
multiple layers of meaning. Functioning not just as the literal liquid in which one can
drown, but also becoming synonymous with the advancing, but invisible German army, rapidly
swallowing up or drowning Western-Europe and the Allied armies that get caught between
its teeth. We can see this idea play out in the story of the disguised French soldier.
Firstly, in his role as savior of the drowning British men on the sinking destroyer, providing
them with a way out, depicted as a light at the end of a dark tunnel. And secondly in
his ultimate self-sacrifice as the last man attempting to plug the bullet holes on another
sinking ship. Both these actions echo the larger scale event of the French rear guard,
holding the line on the Dunkirk perimeter and prolonging a long-lost battle in an effort
to give the British Expeditionary Force a chance to fight another day.
And so, in Dunkirk the presence of water is simultaneously synonymous with the literal
threat of drowning on an individual level, the representation of the impending German
army on a human scale, as well as the symbol of the flood on a cosmic scale, signifying
the return to primordial chaos and death within the dominion of time.
We can see the effects of this disintegration play out in multiple ways. At first the army
on the beach is shown to retain a relatively large degree of order. Supplies are stashed
in an orderly fashion, men are separated by unit and the skies appear bright and clear.
However, as enemy planes appear the true gravity of this new situation is laid bare. Men are
blown up at random as the terrifying and deafening sirens of the Stuka dive-bombers become markers
of this world ruled by time, chaos and death… As this regression continues we see that order
and calmness are rapidly transforming into chaos and desperation. The beach becomes dirtier,
the weather harsher, as small groups of men try to make their own way out, and some even
choose to face or perhaps give in to the chaos on their own accord. As minds begin to wander,
we are shown the slow decay of alertness into an unconscious, sleeping, almost dreamlike
state, representative again of the regressive powers of the dominion of time. We see this
same pattern also played out in the tragic blinding and ultimate death of George at the
hands of the shivering soldier, who on his own terms has become possessed by the chaotic
forces of time. This regression away from meaning and into
cyclical time is also represented as a move into a confused, undefined place in which
identities become blurred and in which things turn into their opposite continuously. Visually,
this is depicted through images of flooded or wet land, the mist and the watery foam
that slowly creep up on the beach as markers of this confused world.
On the story level, we can also see this play out in the overall silent disposition of the
men and the way in which they change or hide their identities on the beach. This is clearly
depicted in the French soldier disguising himself in a British uniform, but it’s also
expressed through Tommy, who on multiple occasions attempts to blend in with a group of soldiers
to escape the beach early. This notion reaches its limit later on as paranoia about one’s
true identity kicks in and the French soldier is accused of being a German agent.
But perhaps the clearest representation of this confusion comes in the form of the shivering
soldier. When first introduced we find him in the middle of the ocean, sitting on an
overturned ship surrounded by mist, symbolic again of this overturned order or this upside-down
world. Shell-shocked, he has lost his ability to think rationally. And when asked for his
identity, he is unable to respond. A subsequent flashback reveals the complete inversion that
has taken place inside of him, as we see him as his opposite, a calm and collected officer,
ordering men to not give in to their emotions. But if the dominion of time represents this
regression away from order into chaos and ultimately into death itself, it also embodies
the potential for renewal and rebirth. To understand what this means we have to take
a closer look at the Air and Sea narratives. In the air section, we follow Farrier, a Spitfire
pilot who attempts to shoot down as many enemy planes as he can before having to return to
base. Through his defiant actions, Farrier and the Spitfires are not only the literal
guardian angels of the troops below, but also become the symbolic carriers of a yet to be
expressed spirit, a potential renewal of the dominion of space. If the German Stuka dive-bombers
and their deafening sirens are representative of the chaos and death of the dominion of
time, the British Spitfires are the harbingers of a protective spirit of order
and light… Their story, as the most condensed arc in
the film, functions as a three-part microcosm of the larger movements in the narrative.
First off, their entering into the dominion of time coincides with the unexpected death
of their commander, Fortis leader, who crashes into the water. Furthermore, Farrier’s gas
meter is destroyed, indicative again of this regression into confusion and blindness. However,
despite the difficulty of their situation, Farrier decides to continue his mission in
order to protect the troops at Dunkirk. Not long thereafter, his second companion,
Collins, is shot down as well. But this time around, instead of crashing and dying like
Fortis leader, Collins remains unhurt, and instead of bailing out decides to land his
plane on the water. This symbolic act of defiance in the face of defeat becomes synonymous with
the larger movement of the army defiantly trying to evacuate itself from the beach without
fully succumbing to the chaos. And so instead of complete disintegration we get a glimpse
of a potential return to order. A glimmer of hope and a sign that amid the fear and
the silent desperation, we also find acts of tremendous courage and a resilience to
survive and persevere against all odds. A sense that somewhere in the deepest and darkest
moments of this descent into chaos, a miracle might be manifesting itself…
Appropriately, it is the final piece of the puzzle, the sea narrative in the form of the
civilian little boat, that is needed to break the mold of the cockpit and extract Collins.
Not only literally saving his life, but also symbolically hatching the seed of this defiant
spirit from the watery chaos. In the same manner, on a larger human scale, the little
boats would become the image of salvation of the drowning British army at Dunkirk and
the subsequent manifestation of the Dunkirk Spirit in the coming together of a people,
now slowly emerging from the dominion of time. In a final showdown with the enemy, Farrier
shoots down a German Stuka which was about to kill the British commander on the mole.
This action then coincides with Mr. Dawson mimicking this defiant victory by narrowly
evading a strafing German fighter plane. Showing that the narrative threads have at last come
into full physical and spiritual alignment, cementing the idea that the battle has been
symbolically ‘won’ and that the forces of time are being pushed away and replaced
by this new unspoken spirit. Yet the return has not yet been completed
as the soldiers are still unsure of what to make of the event, fearing that the people
at home will berate them for their shameful defeat.
A final action is needed to bring about the ultimate renewal of space. In the third and
final phase of the air narrative, Farrier mimics the actions of Collins, and decides
against bailing out in the service of upholding morale. But instead of landing on the unstable
and confused waters, we now see the image of Farrier landing his plane on solid ground
with the clarity of the sun in his back. This final defiant sacrifice completes the symbolic
journey with the lowering of the spirit unto dry land, representing the successful rectifying
of renewed space, as expressed through the words of the Prime Minister. In
this final inversion, Churchill’s speech flips the world back on its feet. Out of the
material defeat emerges the symbolic victory. The
seemingly meaningless loss of life is transformed into a meaningful sacrifice. And so, in a
strange manner, it’s precisely through defeat, through this encounter with the dominion of
time, that the seed for the ultimate victory could emerge. And in the same manner, Farrier
perhaps realizes that the symbolic win is far greater than his own material loss. And
so, the blaze he sets to his Spitfire becomes not a nihilistic image of final defeat, but
a symbol of ultimate defiance, signifying the tragic sacrifices which foster the illuminating
light that transcends the tragedy, the final integration of the Dunkirk Spirit into reality...