Steve McQueen’s Blitz is a richly detailed yet broadly painted portrayal of wartime London in 1940, viewed through the eyes of a 9-year-old boy named George (played by Elliott Heffernan). He is on a quest to return home to his single mother, Rita (Saoirse Ronan).
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| Saoirse Ronan in 'Blitz.' Apple TV+ |
The film’s Dickensian quality is evident in its layering of misfortunes atop melodrama, though it lacks the lighthearted comic relief often found in Dickens' works. Its timely message highlights the suffering of ordinary people when bombs target civilians.
While the film features impressive sequences and a much-needed representation of London's racial diversity during that era, it sometimes lacks the subtlety typical of McQueen's best work. Spanning exactly two hours, it feels overly edited to fit a specific runtime. This tightness might hinder the film’s potential as an awards contender and limit its appeal in international markets, although it is expected to resonate more with UK audiences who value the “keep calm and carry on” spirit.
From an auteur perspective, Blitz aligns with McQueen's filmography, echoing themes from his recent projects like the Small Axe series, which focuses on the Black experience in Britain, and Occupied City, a documentary that juxtaposes past events with contemporary footage of Amsterdam during WWII.
Before Blitz premiered at the BFI London Film Festival, McQueen noted that it coincidentally followed Occupied City. Both films shed light on the struggles faced by city dwellers under Nazi occupation, illustrating how war can reveal both the best and worst in people.
McQueen was inspired to center the narrative around a biracial boy after discovering a photograph of a Black child in a large coat being evacuated during the war. Heffernan, discovered during a nationwide casting call, resembles this child closely. Although he had only performed in school plays before, he holds his own alongside more seasoned actors, showcasing a steady presence and unwavering gaze.
The bond between George and Rita is evident from their first scene, where they cuddle at bedtime as she reassures him about his upcoming evacuation—part of a larger effort that relocated 1.5 million people from cities like London to safer areas during heavy bombing by the Luftwaffe. Understandably, George is reluctant to leave Rita, his grandfather Gerald (played by Paul Weller in his acting debut), and his cat Olly (portrayed by feline actors Zinger and Tinkerbell), as well as his friends.
Although not explicitly stated, George is understandably apprehensive about how he might be treated by people outside of the metropolis, who may not be accustomed to seeing individuals of color. Soon after boarding a train with hundreds of other children, he becomes a target of bullying. Sensing trouble, George makes the pivotal choice to leap off the slow-moving train and return to London.
Thus begins George’s journey home, fraught with challenges, tragic events, and unexpected kindnesses, reminiscent of Odysseus's epic voyage, but without the decade-long duration. He hops on another train and meets three brothers who share his desire to return home.
After accepting a dare, they experience an exhilarating ride on the roof, allowing composer Hans Zimmer to deliver an energetic, rhythmic score. Upon reaching the outskirts of London, George must navigate his way back to Stepney Green in the East End—a journey that would baffle many Londoners today without Google Maps.
Over the following days, George befriends Ife (Benjamin Clementine), a Nigerian immigrant serving as a blackout warden. Ife’s nobility and kindness represent the positive Black masculinity that George lacks, having never known his Caribbean father, Marcus (CJ Beckford), who was unjustly deported before his birth.
However, after parting ways with Ife—an encounter marked by tragedy—George falls in with a group of Cockney looters led by siblings Albert and Beryl. Portrayed by Stephen Graham and Kathy Burke, two of Britain’s finest character actors, they add a darkly comic edge to the film, even as their actions include gruesome acts like stealing rings from corpses.
Meanwhile, Rita, initially unaware of George’s detour, is immersed in her own Blitz experiences. She works in a munitions factory, supported by her friends Tilda (Hayley Squires) and Doris (Erin Kellyman). The women, dressed in Rosie the Riveter attire, enjoy a live performance when the BBC arrives for a morale-boosting broadcast, with Ronan delivering a heartfelt rendition of 1940s songs composed by Nicholas Britell and Taura Stinson. At night, they seek joy at the pub, savoring moments of happiness before the air raids prompt panic in the streets.
As the Blitz begins, McQueen depicts the authorities’ initial refusal to allow people to shelter in Underground stations, resulting in near riots. The crowds experience only marginal safety when they are eventually permitted entry, as seen when a bomb bursts a water main, causing chaos.
A powerful scene of firefighters struggling to control a blaze highlights the terrifying nature of those early bombing days. The close-ups of flames and the muted color palette evoke the work of documentarian Humphrey Jennings, whose Fires Were Started (1943) stands as a crucial record of the Blitz.
Occasionally, the camera appears to rise like a drone, surveying streets marred by destruction, all convincingly rendered, likely through CGI. McQueen also employs camera shakes and blurs that resolve into aerial views, adding a hallucinatory quality reminiscent of his earlier works that played with perspective and in-camera tricks as a nod to silent cinema.
These personal touches enhance Blitz, introducing a raw, artistic quality that contrasts with the film’s use of clichés. McQueen seems determined to include every hackneyed trope, whether it’s a tearful train chase scene or young women drawing stocking seams with eyebrow pencils. Moments of unrestrained joy are often overshadowed by tragedy or misfortune.
For instance, a flashback shows Rita dancing with Marcus in an all-Black dancehall, where he gifts her a St. Christopher's medal, which she later gives to George. Shortly after, Marcus is arrested, never to return.
Nevertheless, their dancing, along with a subsequent scene in the ill-fated Café de Paris, is a delightful nod to McQueen’s dance-driven Lovers Rock, arguably the strongest and most innovative episode of Small Axe. The earlier film's appeal lay in how little transpired; the drama and emotion were woven into the music and the characters’ movements.
Blitz stands in stark contrast to the minimalist storytelling of Lovers Rock. It embodies a maximalist approach in every aspect, yet both films conclude abruptly with the stark reality of daylight and a bittersweet resolution.
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