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We Dive at Dawn is one of several wartime tales of derring-do to benefit from
the strain of documentary realism that infiltrated British commercial cinema at
the outbreak of war. The output of the government's Crown Film Unit included
dramatised documentaries that functioned as entertaining propaganda for
servicemen such as firefighters - Fires Were Started (d. Humphrey Jennings,
1943) - and submariners - Close Quarters (d. Jack Lee, 1943). By accident or
design, such films coincided with similar scenarios from the commercial studios
- The Bells Go Down (d. Basil Dearden, 1943) and We Dive at Dawn.
We Dive at Dawn is split into three distinct acts: the first establishing the
submarine crew's personalities and domestic situations; the second a sober
portrayal of the life these men spend underwater; and the last the action-packed
raid on a Danish port. The central section is the most compelling, as we endure
the claustrophobia of the mission with the crew. Forgoing soundtrack music,
director Anthony Asquith observes the stalking of a battleship with a cool documentary gaze. Much
of the jargon is unintelligible to the lay viewer, but the depiction of
submarine life is shot through with credibility.
John Mills, as the captain, is particularly effective in this sequence, a
commanding presence at the periscope, with the subtlest of hand gestures
betraying the tension of the situation. Although his character is of the officer
class, the easy cameraderie he shares with his men is in sharp contrast with
earlier representations of commanding officers as superior to their crew in
almost all respects, from actors such as Noël Coward and Leslie Banks, and the
role was key in establishing Mills' classless persona.
As with other morale-boosting films of the period, the crew draws its members
from throughout the British Isles and Commonwealth, and their banter is
light-hearted, with only flashes of antagonism. In a similar vein, the film
concludes with a succession of reconciliations and romantic reunions,
illustrating the efforts needed to keep the home fires burning. The film
benefitted greatly from location shooting, with the assistance of the Admiralty
contributing to the authenticity of its cramped interior sets and contrasting
with the mostly studio-bound Close Quarters. The combination of Mills and
Asquith proved successful enough to merit a reunion: two years
later the pair made The Way to the Stars (1945), exchanging the confines of
submarine life for the RAF's open skies.
Fintan McDonagh
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Original Poster
Monthly Film Bulletin review
