Zulu (1964)

A Towering Monument to Cinematic Valour and Colonial Complexity

Zulu (1964) stands as one of the most iconic British war films ever made. Based on the real-life 1879 Battle of Rorke’s Drift during the Anglo-Zulu War, the film dramatizes the desperate defense of a remote mission station by a small contingent of British soldiers against thousands of Zulu warriors. Directed by American expatriate Cy Endfield and produced by its star, Stanley Baker, Zulu is an enthralling combination of widescreen spectacle, military drama, and character study.

What makes Zulu so enduring isn’t merely its action sequences or sweeping cinematography—it’s the moral and psychological depth lurking beneath its seemingly straightforward tale of colonial-era heroism. Released at a time when the British Empire was fading and post-colonial reflections were gaining traction, the film walks a fine line: it neither wholeheartedly glorifies imperial conquest nor fully critiques it, instead offering a more complex meditation on bravery, duty, and cultural conflict.

Plot Summary: Heroism on the Edge of Defeat

Set on January 22–23, 1879, just after the catastrophic British defeat at the Battle of Isandlwana, Zulu recounts the events at Rorke’s Drift, a small outpost on the border between Natal and Zululand. Approximately 150 British soldiers—mainly of the 24th Regiment of Foot—are left to defend the mission station against an advancing Zulu force of over 4,000 warriors.

Leading the British garrison are Lieutenant John Chard (Stanley Baker), a level-headed Royal Engineer, and Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead (Michael Caine in his breakthrough role), an aristocratic infantry officer with little actual combat experience. Initially wary of each other’s authority and temperament, the two men must forge a tenuous partnership to organize a defence and bolster the morale of their outnumbered men.

What follows is a relentless siege in which the British soldiers, many of them wounded or raw recruits, hold off wave after wave of disciplined Zulu assaults. The film climaxes in a pyrrhic victory, with the surviving defenders physically and psychologically battered but lauded for their valour.

Performances: Ensemble Strength and Star-Making Moments

Stanley Baker as Lieutenant Chard

Baker gives a restrained, thoughtful performance as Chard—a practical, unflappable leader shaped more by engineering logic than military bravado. His working-class roots contrast sharply with the privileged Bromhead, and Baker plays him as a man uncomfortable with authority but ultimately worthy of it. His quiet command lends emotional weight to the narrative, grounding the chaos of war in calm resolve.

Michael Caine as Lieutenant Bromhead

This was Michael Caine’s breakout role, and it’s a fascinating performance—polished, arrogant, and subtly evolving. At first, Bromhead is every inch the upper-class twit, dismissive of Chard and defensive of his social status. But as the siege unfolds, Caine subtly reveals Bromhead’s layers—his bravery, insecurity, and eventual humility. Caine’s charisma and transformation foreshadow the remarkable career that would follow.

Nigel Green as Colour Sergeant Bourne

One of the film’s finest supporting performances, Green’s Bourne is the archetype of professional non-commissioned stoicism. He is both a disciplinary figure and a moral compass—keeping the line steady while never becoming inhuman. Green’s presence is magnetic, his every command and glare conveying authority.

James Booth as Private Hook

Initially depicted as a malingering drunkard and comic relief, Hook’s character arc is one of redemption. Though the real Henry Hook was a model soldier, Booth plays him as a coward who finds his courage under fire. This dramatic license led to controversy but adds narrative punch. Booth’s performance is compelling in its blend of comic timing and eventual pathos.

Direction and Production: Epic Scale with Tactical Precision

Director Cy Endfield delivers a remarkably assured film on both a macro and micro level. Filmed on location in South Africa, Zulu captures the grandeur of the African landscape and the claustrophobic intensity of siege warfare. The contrast between the lush hills surrounding Rorke’s Drift and the tight, crumbling defences of the station intensifies the drama.

Endfield choreographs the battle scenes with a rare combination of clarity and power. The Zulu charges—often shown in long, sweeping takes—are both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The editing rhythm is masterful, alternating between large-scale attacks and intimate close-ups of the exhausted defenders.

There’s minimal reliance on overt gore. Instead, the horror is conveyed through pacing, performance, and implication. This approach respects the audience’s intelligence and makes the violence more impactful.

Historical Accuracy: Faithful but Flawed

Zulu is largely faithful to the known events of the battle, though with several significant liberties taken for dramatic effect:

The real Lieutenants Chard and Bromhead did command the defence.

The portrayal of Private Hook as a reprobate contrasts sharply with his historical reputation.

The ending—with the Zulus singing a tribute to the British soldiers—though powerful and poetic, is likely fictional.

Importantly, Zulu doesn’t flinch from showing the skill, discipline, and bravery of the Zulu warriors. They are never dehumanized or reduced to faceless hordes. The film repeatedly emphasizes their military prowess and even grants them a degree of honour, particularly in the closing scenes. This was relatively progressive for its time, even if the Zulu characters remain largely silent or symbolic.

Themes: Valour, Empire, and Moral Ambiguity

Courage in Isolation

At its heart, Zulu is about courage—raw, defiant, and transformative. The film explores how ordinary men, many of whom are flawed or reluctant, rise to extraordinary acts of bravery when faced with annihilation.

Class and Command

The tension between Chard and Bromhead reflects broader class divisions within the British Army. Chard’s meritocratic rise and Bromhead’s initial snobbery speak to the changing dynamics of leadership in the late Victorian era. The eventual reconciliation between the two becomes a metaphor for unity under crisis.

Imperialism and Cultural Clash

While Zulu doesn’t offer a full-throated critique of colonialism, it doesn’t ignore it either. The British are intruders on Zulu land, and the film acknowledges that Rorke’s Drift is a consequence of imperial overreach. There are moments—subtle but resonant—where the film invites viewers to question the legitimacy of the conflict, even as it celebrates the bravery of the defenders.

Music: Menacing Elegance

The score by John Barry is one of the film’s greatest strengths. The main theme is martial, haunting, and lyrical—a sonic embodiment of British resolve and melancholy. Barry mixes brass fanfares with African percussion, enhancing the film’s mood and bridging the cultural divide at the heart of the story.

The use of traditional Zulu chanting and British hymns (notably “Men of Harlech”) is both dramatically and emotionally potent. These musical counterpoints reinforce the mutual respect between the two forces and elevate the final scenes to something almost mythic.

Legacy and Influence

Zulu was a major commercial and critical success upon release. It remains a staple of British television and is still widely taught, debated, and revisited. It inspired interest in the Anglo-Zulu War and helped launch Michael Caine’s global film career.

Critics today are more divided. Some hail it as a masterpiece of historical cinema and military drama; others criticize its colonial overtones and limited Zulu characterization. Yet even detractors often admit that Zulu is technically superb, emotionally powerful, and artistically ambitious.

In an era when war films were becoming more psychological (The Longest Day, The Bridge on the River Kwai), Zulu offered a blend of classical war tropes with more modern introspection.

Conclusion: A Stirring Epic of War and Humanity

Zulu is not just an action movie. It is a war film with rare depth—both rousing and sobering, thrilling and thoughtful. It celebrates courage without glamorizing war, and it acknowledges cultural complexity without abandoning the conventions of its genre. Director Cy Endfield’s vision, coupled with standout performances from Stanley Baker and Michael Caine, results in a film that remains gripping, emotionally resonant, and historically significant.

It is, in many ways, a product of its time—but also ahead of its time in terms of scale, empathy, and the questions it raises about the cost of empire and the nature of heroism.

A landmark war film—visually striking, narratively rich, and emotionally complex. A must-see for enthusiasts of military history and classic cinema alike.