France collapses in about ten minutes; Charles de Gaulle spends the next two and a half hours refusing to accept the paperwork. That's essentially the plot, and it completely gripped me — the time absolutely flew.
Baudry plays it like a proper political thriller: broadcasts, backroom rows, arguments over who gets to speak for a defeated country. Simon Abkarian's de Gaulle is stiff-backed, prickly and faintly absurd, utterly convinced he embodies France, while Simon Russell Beale's Churchill spends half the film wanting to throttle him and the other half wanting to embrace him.
I know the period fairly well, and this still taught me plenty about just how improvised Free France was — a country stitched together with a BBC microphone and sheer bloody-mindedness. The film plainly thinks de Gaulle was magnificent, but it's sharp enough to see the comedy in him too.
Africa is where the film falls down. The continent keeps Free France alive, but it never quite treats Africans themselves as more than scenery — French officers get the close-ups, everyone else gets the wide shot. It's also unmistakably part one of something bigger. Even so, for a film about committees and paperwork, I was thoroughly entertained — and I'd have walked straight into the sequel if it had been running next door.