Hollywood has always been very predictable, and it’s often amusing to spend time spotting the patterns and trends at any given point. In the last couple of decades, there’s been a rise in war films that choose an ambiguous word or two as its title, and present us with what appears to be a thrilling story of wartime endeavour (usually the Second World War, the most cinematic of global conflicts apparently), often pairing together a few unexpected actors to tell what is almost always some rousing story about bravery in times of war and the resilience of the human spirit when confronted with adversarial conditions. The most recent addition to this ever-expanding canon of mid-level historical war films is Pressure, a film directed by Anthony Maras and co-written by David Haig, who set out to tell the story of the days leading up to D-Day, the landmark moment during the Second World War when allied forces stormed the beaches of Normandy at kickstarted what would soon end up being the beginning of the end of a years-long conflict that brought the Axis to its knees. A story that has been told multiple times before, but not from this perspective, Pressure centres around the relationship between Group Captain Anthony Stagg, a respected meteorologist who is considered an expert in his film, who is enlisted to assist the Allied forces in their war efforts, in particular being asked to aid in predicting the weather on the day of the planned invasion, after a rehearsal for the invasion went terribly wrong. This brings him into contact with General Dwight D. Eisenhower, the future President of the United States who was commanding this radical endeavour, desperate to not only help the Allied forces win the war, but also have his name consolidated into the history books, knowing that a successful invasion could allow him to leave a strong legacy. The push-and-pull between these two men, both of whom stubbornly hold their ground despite the clear indication that they have to work together to make this operation work, becomes the foundation on which Pressure constructs what is intended to be a simple, straightforward war drama, but which turns into a slightly heavy-handed mess of a film, the kind of middling effort that wants to say something profound, but cannot incite even the vaguest excitement in the viewer, who will be forgiven for craving something more than we received.

We always need to find an entry point into which we can start talking about a film like Pressure, since this is unfortunately not the kind of work that immediately lends itself to extensive discussion without some kind of context. At the core of the film, we have what is essentially a story of a group of people trying to make it through the final stages of a brutal conflict, one that they feel is within their power to win, but only with the right amount of effort. War films can be divided into two broad categories: the more challenging, complex ones that set out to capture the horrors of war, and those which tend to be more glossy and regimented, right down to the smallest detail. It’s not a surprise that Pressure occupies the latter category, since this is not a particularly inventive film. However, it does lead us to question what it is precisely that draws audiences to these films, which are always very popular, even at their most derivative. To understand this, we need to go back to the core question: what is it about war, particularly the Second World War, that makes it so cinematic? Some may argue that it was the defining moment of the 20th century, the period when we transitioned to the modern age, since so many aspects of everyday life – whether socially, politically or economically – have their roots in this era, a result of a world changing faster than many actually realised. There has also been enough distance that we don’t need to be cautious with how we tell these stories anymore, since even more respectful depictions can be quite daunting, but with time comes a sense of curiosity to explore it deeper and through a more critical lens. However, this doesn’t provide too much context into why Pressure in particular exists – this is a film quite literally about the weather, and had I not seen this film and witnessed its premise for myself, I’d have wholeheartedly have believed it was a parody of the prestige historical dramas that we’d find on Saturday Night Live, since the sheer absurdity of a war film about predicting the weather is, at least on the surface, quite potent. Needless to say, the film does make some interesting observations, particularly in how a war is not solely won by the soldiers on the battlefield or the people commanding them, but through a collaboration between people from all walks of life, with some of the most unexpected skills becoming exceptionally useful, which is ultimately what Maras intends to communicate with this odd premise.

War films tend to attract actors of a certain calibre, since it is clear that many tend to see these films as being a good opportunity to earn some credibility without having to reinvent themselves or push their skills further than was necessary. In this regard, Pressure is built around the pairing of two very unexpected actors, both of whom do their best to salvage what they could of this fledgling material, albeit being mostly ineffective and deeply lacklustre. Andrew Scott is such a gifted actor, his versatility and depth of emotion being one of the many reasons he is steadily becoming one of our most important actors. His performance in Pressure is a complete waste of his talents, since there’s absolutely nothing for him to do here, other than playing a man who is evidently very heroic, but who seems to lack any real personality, the result of a screenplay that feels insistent to just tell us that Stagg was an important figure without bothering to develop him beyond a thin archetype. Scott does what he can to infuse the character with nuance and personality, but there’s only so much an actor can do before it becomes a waste of their time, and this is very much the case with his performance, which is by no means bad, but rather lacking in any significance or complexity. The main attraction here, for better or worse, is Brendan Fraser, who takes on the part of “Ike” Eisenhower, portraying him not as the stoic President of the United States, since he would only enter politics a few years later, but rather as the five-star general desperately trying to win the war, which he will do by any means necessary, regardless of the obstacles that stand in his way. Fraser is an interesting actor – he’s very likeable and always has a quality that draws us towards him, but he’s also only as good as the material with which he is working. Unfortunately, his portrayal of Eisenhower is not very good, which (much like Scott) is through absolutely no fault of his own. The reasons to cast Fraser are unknown to anyone with some common sense – his tall, burly frame makes Eisenhower tower over every other character, when this was certainly not the case, and a bad combover and a series of loud monologues does not suddenly create a memorable depiction of the character, and Fraser ultimately struggles to be anything more than a caricature, which is a shame considering the potential this film had from the outset, but which was squandered by such middling storytelling.

The fundamental problem with Pressure is that, despite its best efforts, it simply cannot outrun the fact that it’s not a particularly interesting story (at least not overall – I’m certain those interested in meteorology and the role it plays in warfare, a clearly niche group but one that we can safely assume does exist somewhere, would be absolutely thrilled that their personal interest has finally reached the silver screen), and no matter how much it tries, there’s no way to actually make it any more interesting that it ended up being, which is merely marginal at the best of times. The frank reality is that, regardless of how hard it tries to convince us that this story is compelling, there’s only so much than can be done with a film that centres around forecasting the weather, especially since the one aspect that would typically make such a story exciting (the suspense of not knowing whether the endeavour will succeed or not) is stripped away purely based on the fact that the story revolves around one of the most famous moments in history. It certainly doesn’t help that the film is shrouded in a layer of self-seriousness that ultimately makes it a far more dour affair than it needed to be. There’s a sense of inherent whimsy behind this story that perhaps should not have been the subject of something more trivial, but maybe could’ve leant into the more peculiar aspects, crafting what could’ve been a gently comedic reconfiguration of these events. Wall-to-wall humour may have been inappropriate, but when you are dealing with a story that essentially revolves around predicting the weather, a more upbeat approach could’ve elevated the story considerably. Unfortunately, this is not the case for Pressure, which seems more than content being overly predictable and frankly quite one-dimensional, which may give it a self-inflated sense of self-importance, but at the expense of being even vaguely memorable. It does nothing we’ve not seen before, and its constant pandering to the most obvious of ideas does prove to be extremely frustrating, especially when it had so much potential to be something at least partially intriguing, choosing instead to be nothing more than overly conventional.

If nothing else, Pressure proves that films can indeed be about absolutely anything, even if it ends up being truly very dull at the best of times. There is nothing inherently wrong about choosing to tell a story about how overlooked figures may not be well-known outside of those with an intricate knowledge of the period, but who nonetheless played a vital role in shaping American history and ultimately winning the Second World War through their laborious efforts. Focusing on someone like Stagg could’ve offered a refreshing alternative to the countless films that tend to revisit the same battles and moments of heroism that we’ve seen depicted on screen countless times before, but it is ultimately doing nothing all that original, joining an ever-growing list of bland wartime dramas that carry themselves with a sense of self-importance that is nearly always entirely misplaced. The film proves that a solidly unique premise (or rather its core perspective) does not alone make for an engaging work, and at no point does Pressure manage to justify why this particularly story had to be told, beyond the simple fact that it happened, and someone decided it was worth spending 100 minutes exploring – mercifully the film is comparatively short, but still feels like it is overstaying its welcome at the best of times. The result is a film that often mistakes historical importance for dramatic significance, operating under the assumption that a real-world event can automatically translate into a compelling cinematic journey, when in reality it just feels obvious and unengaging. Maras has made a frustrating, uninspiring wartime drama that strips away the very elements that could’ve made it at least partially distinctive, leaving behind a film that is competent enough to never completely collapse, but remains far too lifeless to leave any lasting impression. It is just another example of Hollywood’s endless fascination with the Second World War, to the point where they seem to be running out of ideas. If nothing else, Pressure becomes another example of how a fascinating moment in history requires more than just a recognisable name or remarkable true story to be effective, but rather needs a filmmaker capable of finding the humanity, tension and emotional complexity buried beneath an almost entirely traditional story.