Sundance 2020: IRONBARK

Oh, for the days when the impending threat of nuclear annihilation was a relatively new worry. Not that Ironbark is a film meant to evoke nostalgia exactly. It’s just that given the timing, the opening credits, which present a portrait of a world just beginning to grapple with the ramifications of two rival nations possessing weapons of mass destruction, feels, well, rather quaint. It doesn’t last too long though, even if every depiction of the 1960s does carry a sentimental longing that feels unavoidable at this point, what with all that prosperity and hope.

Benedict Cumberbatch has become known for his roles which take our preconceived notions of exceptionalism to their darker logical ends, but in Ironbark he’s playing the kind of everyman who becomes another kind of hero, one no less worshiped. Greville Wynne is a salesman living a quiet, ordinary life with his wife Sheila (Jessie Buckley) when he is approached by no less than British and American intelligence to undertake a mission to assist Oleg (Merab Ninidze), a Soviet informant and would-be defector whose aid proved invaluable during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Certainly his motives, which involve unstable leaders who actually long for a global war, feel quite relevant, and leaves little doubt as to his sincerity, as well as the very real bond Oleg and Greville form over time. Yet Ironbark pulls no punches when it details just what they’re up against, or the consequences if their activities are discovered. Oleg casually mentions that at the very least Greville would be imprisoned in the Soviet Union for a few years, and Oleg would definitely be killed.

In these circumstances, idealism can be a tough sell, but Ironbark sells the hell out of it nevertheless, remaining firmly committed to its compassion for individuals caught up in the iron grip of history while refusing to downplay the price of such humanism. Director Dominic Cooke is also the perfect director for the delicate balance at play here, bringing the same retro intensity to the political as he brought to the personal drama of On Chesil Beach. If the end result is the ultimate Cold War bromance, then it’s also a tribute to others whose names will never be known to history, who did the right thing and received little to no credit for it.

It does somewhat do a disservice to those around them in a very predictable fashion, with Buckley playing dowdy and dampening her vibrant charisma for not much of a reward. She at least gets be something other than the endlessly supportive wife, which is the only role her Russian counterpart is allowed. There are also other fascinating components Ironbark doesn’t delve into, which is just who exactly provided the details the film uses as its source material, and whether they can be trusted, but most gaping is the aftermath of trauma, especially during a time when people were mostly expected to process it on their own.

Such an exploration could be a movie all in itself, yet its omission is another (unintended) commentary on the truths we still choose to turn away from.

Ironbark premiered at Sundance Film Festival 2020.