Claus Philipp Maria Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg—a lot of name for a lot of guy. Born into aristocracy in 1907, he was a soldier by the age of 19—and, by most accounts, a warrior with the soul of a poet (he was especially smitten with the work of Stefan George, a family friend), who'd briefly considered becoming an architect before deciding, "Right, duty first." Hence his quick ascension through the ranks, as befitting a soldier born in a castle.
Depending upon which account you get, Stauffenberg was either against the Nazis from the get-go or merely a distant detractor at first; in his book The History of the German Resistance, 1933-1945, historian Peter Hoffmann (who receives a prominent thanks in Valkyrie's end credits) suggests that perhaps the country-firster even "welcomed and supported the Nazi regime," as he never spoke openly of his contempt for Hitler's National Socialists. But history offers myriad interpretations: Several stories have Stauffenberg, himself never a member of the party, plotting to kill Hitler as early as 1942; others suggest he wasn't on his way to becoming a committed co-conspirator until April 1943, when, during a stint in Africa, his regiment was attacked by British bombers.
That attack is where Valkyrie director Bryan Singer and writer Christopher McQuarrie—the tandem previously responsible for The Usual Suspects—begin their telling of Stauffenberg's attempt to assassinate Adolf Hitler in the summer of 1944. (Nathan Alexander is also credited as a writer.) The lieutenant-colonel, played by Tom Cruise, argues with a superior about how all's lost out here in the sand and insists that it's time to retreat. A moment later, his higher-up is dead; so, too, are most of Stauffenberg's men. And so he is reborn a sworn enemy of the Führer.
Directed by Bryan Singer. Written by Christopher McQuarrie and Nathan Alexander. Starring Tom Cruise, Bill Nighy, Tom Wilkinson and Kenneth Branagh. Now playing.
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the Observer's mission. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Dallas's stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
But what truly fueled Stauffenberg's desire to kill Hitler—his breeding, that bleeding or just his fear of the approaching Allies—is a question for which Valkyrie has little interest. This is no more of a character study than Cruise's Mission: Impossible franchise was a three-part examination into the soul of Ethan Hunt. It pops up corn and serves it in a crystal bowl; this is cineplex hooey, a footnote in history rendered shiny and widescreen in order to prove that Cruise is in control and that Singer can do more than men-in-tights movies.
The intentions are noble: to make a hero out of the forgotten man who tried to seize control of Germany in order to broker a truce with the Allies. What to do with a movie that is impossible to spoil (you do know the ending, right?) and winds up with the hero being assassinated by a coward? (Didn't work out very well for that Jesse James movie last year, either.)
Well, the supporting performances are uniformly top-notch by all actors wearing uniforms—especially Bill Nighy as General Friedrich Olbricht, the true ringleader of the plot, but also its Achilles' heel at crucial moments. Nighy and Tom Wilkinson, as the equally craven but also crueler General Friedrich Fromm, bring gravitas to Valkyrie. Nighy and Wilkinson are playing opposite ends of Valkyrie's spectrum: Where Olbricht is brazen about his attempts to use Germany's reserve army to seize Berlin from the SS (Operation Valkyrie, ahem), Fromm pretends he doesn't know what's going on, as though silent compliance would somehow spare him from a Führer who'd take his own life months later. Kenneth Branagh and Eddie Izzard, as compatriots in the conspiracy, are more or less the Ving Rhames and Simon Pegg of Valkyrie, which is to say "perfectly fine" and "absolutely inconsequential."
As for Cruise, his Stauffenberg has prompted, twice now, guessing games with friends and colleagues as to who would have been better in the role. Viggo Mortensen's name keeps popping up for the sole reason that he's never bigger than his parts (and his range extends further than from A to A.) But Cruise is all we see here—Ethan Hunt in an eye patch, pretending he's missing some fingers. Even when saying goodbye to his wife and kids for a final time, Stauffenberg never seems like a man for whom there's anything at stake. Valkyrie feels like another installment in the never-ending franchise—not just the action-movie one, but the Tom Cruise one. Like the operation itself, it's a good idea—just not well-executed.