London of 1940 sucked. And that’s coming from somebody who lives in Oakland. I’m really not sure how the locals put up with the Luftwaffe bombing on a daily basis; that would have driven me a bit mad – assuming I managed to stay alive. If you had a job where you saw the same people day after day, what would you make of a random absence? Would you assume a colleague or co-worker was dead? How do you deal with that? Is there a silver lining of under-employment and good chances of upward mobility? When it came down to it, I’m not terribly sure it would matter.
Morale was, at this time in Great Britain, a national issue. It had to be. BBC efforts were more geared towards nationalism than any other motives, including entertainment or profit. Enter Catrin Cole (Gemma Arterton), employed as a BBC screenwriter because Tom Buckley (Sam Claflin) liked the cartoon used to wrap his chips. I’m guessing dream jobs were a tad easier at the time. I’m currently trying to imagine the American equivalent – “hey, kid, I saw you throw that rock at a cat; how would you like to pitch for the A’s?” Actually, given the state of the Philadelphia Athletics in the 1940s, that can’t be far from the truth. But I digress.
Sent to interview a pair of twins who might have made a personal rescue mission at Dunkirk, Catrin finds their tale an urban myth of sorts. However, she runs an exaggerated version of the truth by her superiors who think a Dunkirk rescue picture is exactly what the Brits need – go get cracking! This is their finest part of Their Finest – the twisting of fact into legend for the purposes of entertainment. Forget the truth – the twin girls rescued an entire platoon, including “Johnny,” a national dog-saving hero. And one of the girls falls for Johnny, and curmudgeonly boat owner Uncle Frank (Bill Nighy) even does his part, sacrificing life to free the boat and save the lot.
Is it cheesy? Is it ever! I can’t possibly see myself giving “The Nancy Starling” (name of the boat) more than two stars under any circumstances. That, however, didn’t leave Their Finest without charm. A week before the location shoot, the studio insists the picture’s appeal shouldn’t be restricted to the Brits. Americans currently sitting out the war need to be pushed a little. Hence, you there, go write a big, fat part for genuine American idol Carl Lundbeck (Jake Lacy … aka “Pee-farter“). Ironically, for a guy who is supposed to appeal to Americans, Jake Lacy (platinum blonde for this role) looks like he stepped directly out of a Third Reich propaganda poster. The problem? Carl can’t act. Not even a little. Lacy is an absolute riot as “guy who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
Did the producers consider releasing Their Finest in tandem with Dunkirk?
You’d think I’d be kind to a film about writers, and I think I am. Their Finest is essentially a break-the-fourth-wall film; we get not-so-much a peek as a full ogle at how artists used to manipulate the medium to yield the intended result. And while Their Finest goes to great lengths to distinguish between the “real” picture and the “fake,” there are moments in
the reality just as outrageous as in the invented. Unfortunately, one of these resolves the budding romance between Catrin and Tom. BTW, why is Sam Clafin so much better at romance as a quadriplegic?
While I consider this movie version little better than middling, I wonder if the wrong venue was chosen for this material. Instead of a “single” young woman slogging through the everyday battle for life, soul and satisfaction while surrounded by Nazi bombs, how about focusing on the studio intent on making feel-good British propaganda pictures through the slog of daily atrocity? I think there’s a ton of material there – and like “M*A*S*H,” it can include whatever you want because London saw it all at this time in history. I think I might even watch that show, but lay off the title, “Their Finest.” That’s the first casualty of this war.
With propaganda the honest critique will
Find fault with perpetual unequal
No matter how you begin
If “good guys” always win
That doesn’t leave room for a sequel
Rated R, 117 Minutes
D: Lone Scherfig (noted Danish drifter)
W: Gaby Chiappe
Genre: How propaganda is made
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Brits with a fondness for dated newsreels
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Purists
