'Blitz' Review

Blitz screened at the 2024 Twin Cities Film Fest. Apple TV+ will release it in theaters on November 01, followed by its streaming premiere on November 22.

Blitz opens with a crew of London firefighters fighting tooth and nail to put out a house fire. The heat and smoke are almost too much for any man to bear, with wooden beams and piles of brick crumbling down upon them. They eventually start to get a handle on the blaze, although there isn't much cause for celebration as they must now begin their recovery operation for those who are dead or wounded. A moment of silence bridges those tasks, interrupted by the hissing of another Nazi bomber flying overhead. More bombs rain from the sky, signaling another beginning to the cycle of death and destruction that Hitler has inflicted upon England's capital.

Lasting for nearly nine months between 1940 and 1941 and known as The Blitz, it comes as no surprise that a big screen adaptation of this iconic moment in British history has been commissioned and released during the thick of this year's Oscar race. What comes as a surprise is that the visual artist turned filmmaker Steve McQueen is responsible for telling the story, as the likes of Sam Mendes, Joe Wright, and Tom Hooper (before Cats) would have probably topped the betting odds. Despite being a recipient of the Oscar for Best Motion Picture (the first black filmmaker to be awarded) for 12 Years a Slave, McQueen has always steered at least a few steps away from the stuffier material that follows that kind of success. Even something like his recent World War II documentary, Occupied City, defies the prestige trappings with its 240-minute runtime and ruminative nature.

While that opening scene and a few others that follow certainly find themselves akin to many of the viscerally demanding moments littered throughout McQueen's filmography, Blitz marks his most radical departure from form to date, opting for a more classical story filled with the sights and sounds that have come to define this genre for almost a century. That's not an inherently bad thing, as no artist should feel threatened to seclude themselves in a single box. I'm also not accusing McQueen of pandering to the awards bodies. But there is a feeling that the more typical McQueen approach would have given this film the little extra provocativeness it needed to be anything more than just politely good enough.

Anchoring this sprawling story is Rita (Saoirse Ronan) and her nine-year-old son George (Elliott Heffernan). With the frequency of the bombings reaching their peak and inching their way toward their street, Rita decides to send George away to the countryside, much to his reluctance. He rebels by jumping from the outward-bound train, dodging the authorities as he makes the trek back to London. Several other side quests emerge along his way in the form of a trio of delinquent brothers, a Nigerian immigrant police officer just trying to preserve cool heads amongst the shellshocked masses, and a group of bandits led by their bipolar chief (Stephen Graham). It all feels out of a Charles Dickens novel, although some of these branches certainly feel as if they were planted from entirely different films.

McQueen mounts a directorial showcase with each vignette, delivering several stunning sequences set across the spectrum of carnage and beauty. Moments that capture the macroeconomic scale of London during this moment have an awe-inspiring terror to them. People bang on gated stores as explosions rattle only a few blocks down, parents in a daze on the street as they call out for their missing children. The scale and production detail are immaculate across every department, especially Adam Stockhausen’s production design and Yorick Le Saux's cinematography. Similar to his work in Greta Gerwig's 2019 adaptation of Little Women, Le Saux invites us into each frame with warm hues and gradually cools down as the sun begins to set and the sounds of engines pierce through the sky.

It's when things start to get a little more microscopic that McQueen fumbles. George may be able to run away from those pursuing him, but he can't escape the fact that he's a mixed-race boy during a time of rising xenophobia and intolerance. It's alluded through flashback that his father was forcefully removed from the country, a practice that a majority of the white Londoners seem to support. And even in a time when all of England should be gathered together against a common enemy on their front doorstep, many still view their neighbors as less than themselves. McQueen has always been a blunt filmmaker when it comes to his themes, yet he always found a way to weave them into the narrative tapestry seamlessly. Things are much more segmented this time around, with several moments overplaying their hand and grinding the action to a halt.

No actress can escape the Hollywood demand that they play a doting mother, with Ronan making her debut in that role here. And similar to anyone of her high caliber who's been placed in this scenario, she rises far above what she's been provided. She's always the best in show amongst this cast, with Heffernan coming into his own the more the film progresses. Many of the performers don't have that luxury of time, leaving them in a hurried state of needing to act as much as possible.

Although he manages to make a good impression, Harris Dickinson gets the brunt of that treatment, appearing so seldomly that one is forced to assume that this 120-minute film is the result of a lot of pruning. McQueen has certainly earned himself the right to an extended runtime, and this conceptually grand story liekly would have benefitted from it. A good film is still a good film, although it still tastes a little bitter when you know it could have easily been better.