Steven Benedict feels the strain in his review of the World War II drama.
Thank the film gods for Working Title. Over a quarter of a century ago, Universal Studios’ U-571 splashed onto our screens, recklessly transferring to the US Navy an exploit largely inspired by the capture, by British sailors, of an Enigma machine and vital code material from a German U-boat. The intelligence subsequently gleaned from encrypted Nazi communications made a considerable contribution to the Allied war effort.
I start there because, for commercial reasons, the Second World War is all too often reduced to a theatrical arena in which America’s role is augmented, if not completely invented, to satisfy the demands of Hollywood financing.
Pressure, adapted from David Haig’s stage play of the same name, dramatises the days leading up to D-Day in 1944, focusing on the meteorologists whose forecasts were crucial to the decision of when to launch the invasion. And while there are a few departures from the historical record, this handsomely mounted film, produced by Britain’s most successful production company, Working Title, does a very good job of capturing both the tensions and the unity within the Allied forces in the fight against the Nazis.
The tension centres on Scottish meteorologist Group Captain James Stagg (Andrew Scott) and his American counterpart, Colonel Irving Krick (Chris Messina), who profoundly disagree over how to interpret the weather charts that will help General Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) decide whether 5th June is the day to launch.
Stagg is virtually the only character afforded any meaningful suggestion of a life away from the office – he has to leave behind his heavily pregnant wife – and that distress adds another dimension to the film’s title. It means that Scott, incapable of delivering a line or gesture without you sensing something else is going on inside, carries much of the film’s emotional weight. And while other films prove Scott is more than capable of shouldering that responsibility, this film can’t afford to let him do so alone. The surrounding characters are afforded very little interiority, to the point that First Lieutenant Kay Summersby (Kerry Condon), personal secretary and all-purpose buffer to General Eisenhower, is little more than a colour chart to Stagg’s darkening moods. Watching Condon contend with a character the script never cares to understand is akin to asking a virtuoso to sing a tune from one note.
That said, director Anthony Maras, who worked alongside Haig in adapting his play, occasionally manages to push the drama beyond its stage-bound setting. On those occasions, Maras uses upscaled archival footage in montage sequences – Maras also edited the film – that effectively convey the scale of D-Day.
Therein lies the problem with Pressure. It is effective, and you come away wishing you had been given more: more intimacy, more tension, more impact. In this instance, the film leaves you with a rare feeling that it could have done with a running time longer than its 100 minutes.
As it stands, Pressure is perhaps best viewed as another piece in the cinematic mosaic of D-Day – The Longest Day, Overlord, The Big Red One, and Saving Private Ryan – films that approach from different perspectives the largest amphibious invasion in history, an operation that would help determine the fate of Nazi-occupied Europe. Where those films take us into the landing craft, onto the beaches, and through the fighting that followed, Pressure finds its battlefield in weather charts, briefing rooms, and the agonising decision of when to send more than 150,000 men towards occupied France.
It is an inspired perspective to revisit familiar history. The stakes could scarcely be higher. The problem is that Pressure understands their historical magnitude without always finding their dramatic equivalent.
Pressure is in cinemas on 9th September 2026.
