Zulu (1964)
Ask most of the British, and almost all the Welsh, public to name Stanley Baker's finest film and performance and it's odds on the majority would opt for Zulu. Most critics polled might plump for one of his films with director Joe Losey, either Accident (1967) or The Criminal (1963), perhaps.
Zulu is justifiably lauded in Wales as the film that established Baker as a determined producer who could realise such a labour of love, an unabashed myth-making homage to the South Wales Borderers and the soldiers who gained VCs after the marathon siege of Rorke's Drift in 1879. The movie also confirmed, for many, the arrival of a new star Michael Caine (following his appearance in Alfie).
Zulu, one of four films Baker made with South African-born director Cy Endfield, played a little loosely with the facts - as modern historians will tell you. The movie concentrates on the South Wales Borderers B company, 2nd Batallion, 24th Foot. The Borderers weren't actually formed until 1881 and the men involved were the 24th Regiment, 2nd Warwickshires - perhaps more likely to have sung The Warwickshire Lads than "Men of Harlech".
However, the Regiment was based from 1873 at Brecon and an estimated 15 per cent of the 145 Rorke's Drift garrison strength were Welsh. Eleven Welsh-based men were awarded VCs after braving demoralising long odds against wave after wave of a 4000-strong Zulu army. Chard, the bridge-building engineer played by Baker in the film, was, in reality, an Englishman.
No matter - for this fine, well-crafted film earns its stature through its engrossing entertainment value and dignified treatment of the small band of men manning the British garrison and crucially, the 4000 Zulus themselves under their chief, Cetewayo. Zulu has its own kind of integrity but it's still hagiography in a sense, celebrating a Pyrrhic victory for the British heroes, for the Zulus gave up the fight ostensibly as a tribute to the few Brits who had escaped slaughter.
Yet as the film builds rhythm and unerring pacing takes hold, we're made to appreciate the bravery and tactical nous of the attackers, even if they are not individualised.
The battle scenes and preparations are handled with pleasing restraint, and Endfield makes fine use of locations, to add to our foreboding as we scan, with the hapless British military, the horizon - revealed bit by bit with slow panning shots and telling point-of-view camerawork.
The film features little of the gung-ho relish we might expect and concentrates largely on the frictions in the English camp, particularly the barely concealed hostility, in early scenes, of Chard, a slightly taciturn, serious man weighed down by his responsibilities, and Michael Caine, as Bromhead, the smart upper class officer with a cut-glass accent and the seemingly-cavalier attitude of the mere dilettante.
During the ordeal, the pair are gradually reconciled, but no easy sentimentalism creeps in: both are proud of their status, initially, though Caine is prey to self-doubt before the conflict's over.
The siege tells us much about the characters of individuals such as James Booth's hard-drinking malingering black sheep, who finds courage in his frustration, Nigel Green's unshakeable sergeant, always keeping a weather-eye open for the peccadilloes of his more fallible men and Ivor Emmanuel as the incorrigible optimist forever breaking into songs of his Welsh homeland. Only Jack Hawkins' histrionics, as an overwrought Swedish minister lacking the necessary reserves of courage, strike a false note.
After the production, Baker proved his moral worth in spades when the South African government banned the Zulus from receiving cash payments for their extras roles. Baker compensated them in kind, the star and his wife Ellen setting up a school for Zulu children during filming.
