'Blitz' review: Steve McQueen's World War II epic dazzles but ultimately disappoints
Steve McQueen's "Blitz," starring Saoirse Ronan and Elliott Heffernan, hits theaters November 1 and Apple TV+ November 22.
Blitz is what you get when you combine Oscar–winning writer/director Steve McQueen (Shame, 12 Years A Slave), the works of Charles Dickens, and the third act of Atonement. And while each of these parts may sound promising by themselves, the final combination proves frustratingly uneven.
There's no doubt that McQueen's World War II epic is among the most well-crafted films of the year, boasting some genuinely pulse-pounding sequences and lavish set pieces. But too often, this story of a mother and son weathering the Blitz in London falls into clichés that smother any elements setting it apart from other films portraying this era.
What's Blitz about?
Blitz drops us into London in 1940, where air raid sirens sound nightly to warn citizens of incoming German bombers. A shortage of bomb shelters leaves throngs of Londoners stranded in the streets, calling for the government to open up the Underground stations. Amidst all this chaos, parents evacuate their children to the countryside in order to keep them safe.
One such parent is single mother Rita (Saoirse Ronan, The Outrun), who's held off as long as possible on sending her son George (newcomer Elliott Heffernan) away. When she finally relents, George is less than understanding. "I hate you," he tells her, before boarding the train out of London without a proper goodbye.
Devastated, Rita tries to go about life as usual (or as usual as life can be during wartime), working in a munitions factory and volunteering at a shelter. Little does she know that George jumped off his train to the country and is fighting his way back home to her.
Blitz toggles between Rita's day-to-day life and George's journey through London, with the occasional flashback to their family life or to Rita's time with George's Grenadian father Marcus (C.J. Beckford). These parallel stories play out in fragmented chapters, with neither mode of storytelling quite gelling with the other. Rita remains relatively static in London, allowing McQueen to hit on some standard WWII film tropes like a BBC broadcast to boost morale or a night out singing in the face of adversity.
George, on the other hand, experiences a true Dickensian odyssey. He'll cross paths with a number of characters ranging from kindly Nigerian night watchman Ife (Benjamin Clementine) to a group of street thieves led by the almost comically evil Albert (Stephen Graham) and Beryl (Kathy Burke), who force George to join up in what might be the film's most Oliver Twist-inspired section. But with so much going on in Rita and George's worlds, Blitz barely finds time to let its most interesting elements breathe.
Blitz's George shows WWII-era London through a perspective not often seen in film.
Most of these elements come from our time with George, as we experience the Blitz from his childish perspective. The barrage of bombs obviously presents a mortal danger to him, but there are other obstacles for a nine-year-old around every corner that an adult may not bat an eye at. In one of the film's funniest scenes, for example, George does his best to take in a very complicated set of bus directions — a sweet detail that emphasizes just how very small he is in the scale of this conflict.
George's relationship to race also makes for one of Blitz's most poignant throughlines. Half-Grenadian, and the only Black child on the train out of London, George experiences racism from everyone, from his fellow evacuees to shopkeepers who shoo him away. These instances puncture the idea of British unity in the face of the Blitz, a reminder that the motivational wartime slogan to "keep calm and carry on" also extends to the carrying-on of ugly behaviors.
Yet George finds camaraderie in his journey as well, as Clementine's Ife gently prompts George to reconsider his ideas of Blackness. The two meet in the Empire Arcade, a covered walkway lined with racist caricatures of Black men and women. It's evident George buys into these depictions somewhat: He laughs at Ife's Yoruba name and tells him that he doesn't think of himself as Black. But the time Ife and George spend together clearly makes an impact on him, making for one of Blitz's most quietly affecting sections. Given how World War II films predominantly center white perspectives, George's journey of self-discovery is not only a moving examination of identity but a necessary addition to the genre.
Blitz is beautiful, but often relies on clichés.
It's a shame, then, that George's story and the holes it punches in the mythology surrounding the Blitz are often overshadowed by clichés that uphold that very mythology. Among these are multiple rousing bomb shelter speeches. Even Ife gets in on the action, with a monologue about how racism and division within one shelter is no different than what the Germans want — an on-the-nose sentiment that somewhat undercuts the film's prior handling of the subject. But as McQueen leans into genre staples like these speeches, or Rita running after George's train as it departs, or a harrowing underground flooding sequence (hello, Atonement PTSD), perhaps that embrace of the Blitz mythology is the point. Even if that stoic Blitz spirit really did exist, was there room in it for those white UK citizens considered "other"?
As McQueen grapples with this question, he also brings the Blitz to stunning life with tried-and-true tricks frequently seen in WWII movies. The bombed streets of London blaze with orange flames, while German aircraft loom overhead in the pitch-black night. Long one-take shots make sure we duck and weave through the action alongside George, positioning us firmly in his point of view as he's overwhelmed with the chaos. Booming sound design featuring air raid sirens and the deep rumble of bombs evokes chills.
Yet among all that fairly familiar imagery are some distinctive sequences that make you wish McQueen had taken more risks with Blitz. The opening focuses on an out-of-control firehose thrashing around on a burning street, a promise of chaos to come. The blur of the oceans beneath the German planes melds into a field of black-and-white daisies. A standout long take guides us through a joyous night at a dance hall, only to cut to its bombed-out remains moments later. If Blitz's story sometimes falters, at least these moments are riveting to experience.
The same goes for many of Blitz's performances. Ronan imbues Rita with both magnificent warmth and deep worry for her son, and Heffernan shines in his breakout role, bringing a still thoughtfulness to even the most harrowing scenes. Graham and Burke are delightfully fun as thieving villains, and Clementine grounds his scenes with George in a firm, quiet kindness. However, some members of the ensemble feel unfortunately underused: Harris Dickinson (Babygirl) gets very little to do as pining fireman Jack, and Leigh Gill's (Joker: Folie à Deux) shelter marshall Mickey is instantly magnetic, yet mostly presented as an avatar of Blitz heroics.
The untapped potential of these cast members speaks to Blitz's largest problem: It feels like it's trying to be too many movies at once. The film crams so much into its two-hour runtime — from munitions factory tensions to precocious runaway children to the barest hints of romance — that by the time it reaches its sweet, yet slightly perfunctory-feeling ending, you'll feel as if you've dipped your toes in several beautifully rendered perspectives of the Blitz, yet fully inhabited very few.
Blitz was reviewed out of the New York Film Festival. It hits theaters Nov. 1, then premieres on Apple TV+ Nov. 22.
