Zulu Dawn

Zulu Dawn is the follow-up to Cy Enfield’s 1964 classic Zulu, widely (and rightfully) regarded as one of the best war films of all time (which we ought to get around to sooner or later). This 1979 effort, directed by journeyman Rodger Hickox, is very much an answer to the unapologetic heroics of the previous film – focusing on the British military disaster as Isandlwana, where 4,000 British soldiers were slain by Zulu warriors the morning of the brave stand at Rorke’s Drift. However, the movie just doesn’t click, despite an interesting story and the best efforts of a distinguished cast.

1879. With tensions between British South Africa and King Cetshawayo (Simon Sabela)'s Zulu nation rising to a pitch, High Commissioner Sir Henry Bartle-Frere (John Mills) authorizes his military commander, Lord Chelmsford (Peter O'Toole), to launch an excursion into Zululand, despite London's express orders to the contrary. Chelmsford's army moves into Zululand, foolishly assuming victory is theirs for the taking, and generally treating the invasion like a holiday. Cesthawayo, however, has the advantage of terrain, intelligence, and overwhelming numbers - and when he finally decides to strike, a disastrous slaughter results.

Zulu, a depiction of the Battle of Rorke's Drift, was a straightforward celebration of military heroism. It can hardly be called a flag-waving propaganda film, but it made no bones about its celebration of British soldiers overcoming impossible odds. Zulu Dawn, a seventeen-years-later "prequel", feels curiously like Tony Richardson's Charge of the Light Brigade from 1968 - a revisionist look at a subject previously celebrated as a glorious imperial victory. Like Richardson's film, the movie's politics mark it as a product of its post-Vietnam, post-colonial era; politics aside, it is a pale shadow of its predecessor.

The movie’s anti-war posturing is obnoxiously heavy-handed. The British officers are portrayed, predictably, as arrogant, thick-headed upper class gits cheerfully leading their men to the slaughter, much as Charge of the Light Brigade, Gallipoli, and innumerable other anti-war films, with the Brit soldiers bumptious fools, while the Natal Native troops and the Zulus themselves are portrayed in a patronizingly positive light. Such a view may have credence in this particular instance, but for all the film’s claims of realism, its analysis of the Zulu War and its leaders amounts to cartoonish cynicism. The most obnoxious moment occurs when Cecil Bartle-Frere (John Mills), the British Governor of Natal, muses with Chelmsford that he hopes they will find a “final solution” to the Zulu question.

The movie's biggest flaw, however, are its surprisingly cheap technical aspects. The colors are dim and washed-out, the direction decidedly undistinguished, and the general look and feel of the film is that of a TV movie. Elmer Bernstein's score is okay but it lacks the rousing brilliance of John Barry's work for the original. Fortunately, the film excells at its battle scenes; the awe-inspiring sight of the impossible huge Zulu army, moving like a beast roused from slumber, is one of the most impressive pre-battle spectacles. And the disastrous fight at Isandlwana itself is a wonderfully desperate, confused affair, shown in all its gory detail. There is no glory to be had from the carnage, only ignominious defeat.

The all-star cast is badly used, given weak cipher characters to work with. Surprisingly, Burt Lancaster is the only star to emerge unscathed, despite a dodgy Irish accent; he’s the only one with any real sense of energy or emotion in his performance. Peter O’Toole plays Chelmsford as the stereotyped, gormless and arrogant British officer, with Nigel Davenport and Denholm Elliot not much better as his doomed subordinates. John Mills provides a typically stiff cameo as Bartle-Frere. Bob Hoskins and David Bradley have some nice scenes as a British Sergeant and his green trooper, which recall some of the character dynamics of the original Zulu.

Zulu Dawn is a well-intentioned film, but like so many other "revisionist" takes on imperial history, it goes too far the other way. Regardless, the movie is mostly worth watching as a footnote to its predecessor, lacking that film's wonderful, economic drama and retaining only the fine battle scenes.