Supporters of Maureen Flavin Sweeney, the Irish postmistress whose meteorological reports helped save D-Day from stormy catastrophe, have already been muttering in the wings about the focus of this effective, exciting tribute to heroes with barometers.
Fear not. Sweeney is mentioned. But, based on a play by David Hague, the film is chiefly concerned with a quiet, intensely professional Scot named James Stagg.
Anyone who has sat through the renowned 1970s documentary series The World at War will remember his sturdy contributions to the D-Day episode. As chief meteorological officer for Operation Overlord, Stagg, played brilliantly here by Andrew Scott, really did make a significant contribution to the success of the operation during the second World War.
As Pressure tells it, he found himself at odds with Irving P Krick (Chris Messina), the chief American meteorologist, when evidence seemed to suggest a storm was due on the planned date of the Allied forces’ mass landing on the north coast of France at Normandy.
A delay of a day or two would be significant. Any greater wait could be disastrous, as the required tidal and lunar circumstances would not again coincide for another two weeks. How much longer could the details of the plan be kept secret?
Anthony Maras, the Australian director of the eventful Hotel Mumbai, coats the film in nostalgic browns as Volker Bertelmann’s busy score heightens the building tension. There is throughout a sense of the headquarters operating on one huge collectively held breath. The tension is palpable even though we all (one has to hope) know the landing was ultimately a success.
Scott is unimprovable as Stagg. There is a sense of a near-religious devotion to the scientific method at odds with Krick’s less rigorous reliance on precedent. Towards the close a conciliatory gesture confirms that, beneath the stony carapace, a generous heart beats.
Kerry Condon enjoys herself as Kay Summersby, Gen Dwight D Eisenhower’s Corkonian private secretary. Damian Lewis, though maybe not quite eccentric enough, fills big rooms with mad bluster as the British general Bernard Montgomery.
Brendan Fraser is, alas, a little too fragile as the bullet-headed Eisenhower, but he still gets across the charisma of a big man with unimaginable responsibilities.
None of the film-making breaks new ground, but this is a tense, professionally made dad flick that will play handsomely on bank holiday afternoons forever. There are worse things.
In cinemas from Wednesday, September 9th