(PG) ★★★☆☆

LIKE the eponymous man undoubtedly did to those around him in real life, Brian Cox’s studied performance towers over this stately, single-minded biographical drama.

Instead of giving us a birth-to-death view of the man’s life - as is the want of so many biopics - director Jonathan Teplitzky’s film focuses on a very specific and crucial period in British history; the tension-filled 96 hours leading up to the famous D-Day landings in June 1944.

Cox commands the screen with roaring conviction as the resolute Prime Minister so often described as the greatest Briton who ever lived. By the very nature of the man’s distinctive appearance, there’s a certain feeling of caricature, at least to begin with. But Cox is such a talented actor that by sheer will of performance he has you utterly convinced, delving deeper than the instantly recognisable Bowker hat and distinctive voice.

He snarls, shouts, storms around and cigar-smokes his way through a series of speeches as he tries to tell anyone who will listen about the dangers of what might happen if the Allied forces do decide to go ahead with the D-Day plans, deathly afraid for his country to avoid the mistakes of Gallipoli during the First World War.

This includes his loving yet no-nonsense wife Clementine (Miranda Richardson), the equally stubborn General Eisenhower (John Slattery) and even King George VI (James Purefoy) himself, all confronted by a man beleaguered and embittered that he’s no longer in control of the war effort in the way he was 30 years prior.

Ultimately it’s a war film about indecision or, at least, disagreement delaying an inevitable one. Those scenes of Churchill arguing back-and-forth in handsomely furnished rooms does get repetitive, a case of it making its point with ten scenes where two or three would do.

Former author and historian-turned-screenwriter Alex von Tunzelmann gives a valiant effort of spinning historical fact into narrative drama, though any history buffs might take issue with the accuracy or at least the narrative constriction thereof; it takes Churchill’s extended reticence to deploy tens of thousands of young men to almost certain death and compresses it into a matter of days.

It’s actually in the smaller moments, rather than the egotistical barking matches, where the film is most effective; the resolution to a story arc between Churchill and his new secretary Helen (Ella Purnell) whom he unfairly berates for every little mistake is the film’s most elegant grace note.

For all its blustering, it’s much too small and bloodless to convince as the film of great magnitude or world-importance it has the clear intention to be. It’s decently told and admirably intentioned in a way that will play well to the crowd that lapped up the likes of The King’s Speech, A United Kingdom and the recent Viceroy’s House. But it’s undoubtedly elevated far above its station by a terrific performance that commands any and all attention.