Sink the Bismarck
Reviewed by Dr Eric J Grove, formerly deputy head of strategic studies at the Royal Naval College, Dartmouth, and now director of the Centre for Security Studies at the University of Hull. His most recent book, The Royal Navy since 1815, was published in January 2005. He was also historical adviser to the major Channel 4 programme The Battle of the Hood and Bismarck.
RATING: 8
UK, 1960
Director Lewis Gilbert
Screenwriter Edmund H North
From the book by C S Forester
Cinematographer Christopher Challis
Music Clifton Parker
Art direction Arthur Lawson
Cast Kenneth More (Captain Jonathan Shepard), Dana Wynter (Second Officer Anne Davis), Laurence Naismith (First Sea Lord), Geoffrey Keen (Assistant Chief of Naval Staff), Michael Hordern (C-in-C Home Fleet), Karel Stepanek (Admiral Gunter Lutjens), Carl Möhner (Kapitan Lindemann), Maurice Denham (Commander Richards), Jack Watling, Esmond Knight (Captain, Prince of Wales)
I have to admit to a certain bias in favour of this film. When it came out in 1960, I saw it twice through the first time and then went again every time it came to a local cinema. I was captivated by the efforts made to produce ship models that looked accurate, the wealth of technical detail in the way the battleship gun turrets worked and torpedoes were fired, and, indeed, the general accuracy of the story, told in an almost documentary fashion.
If you want an accessible version of the dramatic and tragic pursuit of the Bismarck in May 1941, this is still as good a place to start as any. We took a copy to sea with us during the making of Channel 4’s Battle of the Hood and Bismarck, and I watched it over both the wrecks – it somehow seemed fitting.
Gilding the historical lily
The scriptwriter Edmund H North based his screenplay on an account by C S Forester (better known for his ‘Hornblower’ novels) but could not resist embellishing it still further. Fictional additions for the sake of dramatic impact include the lone member of the Norwegian resistance being shot as he taps out an incomplete message about sighting the Bismarck, extra British losses as a result of Bismarck’s guns shooting down Swordfish aircraft, and one of the British destroyers making a torpedo attack on the German ship during her final night afloat.
The portrayal of the German command team is very much of its time. Vice Admiral Lutjens (promoted to full admiral for the purposes of the film) is depicted by Karel Stepanek as the sinister, ardent Nazi and Bismarck’s commanding officer by Carl Möhner as the ‘good German’. This is not fair, especially to Lutjens, who was an officer of considerable professional skill and no more or less a Nazi than any other senior German naval officer of World War II. The interplay of the two men is played out on a fictionalised ‘bridge’ on Bismarck that has little resemblance to the real command arrangements on the battleship.
Simplified version
Much of the film takes place in an equally simplified version of the war room under the Admiralty in London. Here work the hero and heroine of the film. The former is Kenneth More as Captain Jonathan Shepard, the acerbic newly appointed Director Operations Division (Home) in bitter denial after the loss of his destroyer to a force led by Lutjens – thus giving him a personal grudge to nurse – and with a slightly unlikely son Tom (the uncredited John Stride) who is a telegraphist air gunner in Ark Royal. More’s foil is his assistant, the glamorous Dana Wynter playing Second Officer Anne Davis, who tries to humanise him, a task in which she eventually succeeds after Shepard thinks he has lost his son.
The emotional interplay of these two characters, both of whom are coping in different ways with personal loss, was probably necessary to give the film broader appeal. It is, however, completely fictional, and the film-makers inserted in a disclaimer at the end of the film, saying that the More character bore no relation to Captain (later Admiral Sir) Ralph Edwards. This was perhaps even more essential as, in the final scene, DOD(H) and his attractive assistant are seen going for a romantic meal together across a very authentic-looking wartime Trafalgar Square.
Technical authenticity?
That said, producer John Brabourne was able to use his influence as son-in-law of Lord Mountbatten, then chief of the Defence Staff, to obtain the full co-operation of the Admiralty. The soon-to-be scrapped battleship Vanguard provided some wonderful historic footage of a capital ship’s turrets and how they worked. HMS Centaur was made available so that a real Swordfish could take off from a real aircraft carrier, and an old reserve ‘Dido’ cruiser was used as the set for Bismarck’s destruction. Inevitably a price for these loans was paid in terms of historical accuracy. The footage of Bismarck’s AA guns shows almost entirely British weapons, which is ironic – if Bismarck had had some of the systems illustrated, it might have been able to see off the Swordfish whose torpedo hits ultimately sealed its fate.
On the other hand, the models of the warships are generally very accurate and a delight to see. One slight exception is, sadly, Hood, which is in an earlier configuration from that which actually blew up. Nonetheless, the model captures the real beauty of the tragic ship. Another niggle is that, although the carrier Victorious ‘plays’ itself (and Ark Royal at times!), it is in its greatly rebuilt post-war condition.
The most annoying historical defect, however, is the completely unnecessary adoption of the convention that the Germans must fire right to left and the British vice versa. The battle of the Denmark Strait, in which Hood meets her explosive and spectacular end (done rather well by Howard Lydecker and Bill Warrington of the excellent special effects unit), is fought in mirror image – please note, any documentary-makers wanting to use this very effective footage!
Inspired guesswork
Inevitably, in what is, after all, a feature film, the story is told in terms of its major architecture, not through the exact historical detail. Instead of the confusion over Bismarck’s exact position and course, which plagued the Admiralty after the ship had eluded its shadowers, Shepard is shown making a personal decision, based on little more than inspired guesswork, that Bismarck is making for the Biscay coast. The real story is more complicated, but to defend the film-makers, it did involve radio direction-finding and special intelligence, topics it was wise not to raise back in 1960.
The film captures the atmosphere of 1941 very well, helped by being made in black and white rather than colour. Notable is the use of the real Edward R Murrow – the American journalist whose wartime reports from London had helped turn US public opinion in favour of Britain – to set the scene and act as a kind of commentator. This no doubt helped also with the 1960 American audience. The worldwide shock at the loss of Hood is also very effectively covered, with documentary-like visualised ‘radio announcements’ in different languages.
A real classic
The use, right at the start, of authentic footage of Bismarck being launched to the accompaniment of a rather hysterical Nazi commentary (footage sadly deleted from some TV versions) makes a wonderful juxtaposition with the quiet solemnity of a very convincing wartime Trafalgar Square being crossed by Captain Shepard to take up his new post at the Admiralty. He scatters the pigeons at just the right moment in Clifton Parker’s Walton-esque opening music, played beautifully under the skilled direction of Muir Mathieson.
Sink the Bismarck was one of the last of a generation of classic British war films that were made after the Second World War. Like the others, it presents what people would like to think happened rather than what really did. Nevertheless, in its overall attention to detail and regard paid to the true story, it stands comparison with others in this genre very well. It certainly inspired one particular member of its audience!
