In John Boorman’s first semi-autobiographical film, 1987’s Hope and Glory, war came to the school-age protagonist’s London. In Queen and Country, set roughly a decade later, the director’s alter ego goes to war — except that he doesn’t. As the Korean conflict rages, 19-year-old Bill Rohan (Callum Turner) is drafted, trained and sent into service as a typing instructor.
The movies take their titles from expressions of British exceptionalism, but do so ironically. Boorman, who wrote and directed both, is not concerned with duty, heroism and national dignity. The films charmingly — if in this case a bit less distinctively — salute mischief, insubordination and the disruptive power of love.
Since the Korean War didn’t hit Britain as directly as World War II, Queen and Country lacks its predecessor’s drive. But it’s not haphazardly constructed. Playful capers often lead to severe repercussions, and characters and situations are mirrored in ways that multiply the story’s implications and deepen its empathy.
Bill is a teenage film buff who’s been enjoying a near-idyllic life on his family’s little island in the Thames, tantalizingly close to the soundstages of Shepperton Studios. He’s hardly the sort to regret not being sent to the front lines. He’s just a little bored by life on a military base, a less congenial island.
The jaded conscript is soon allied with a pair of troublemakers: Percy (Caleb Landry Jones), a fellow instructor, and Redmond (Pat Shortt), a champion skiver (British for “slacker”). Their enemies are persnickety Sergeants Major Bradley (David Thewlis) and Digby (Brian F. O’Byrne) and their superior, Major Cross (Richard E. Grant), who’s as exasperated as his name suggests.