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Review: 'Blitz': A Haunting Tale of Love, Loss, and the Shadows of War

Writer's picture: KaeKae


It is every mother’s worst fear — the thought of her only child out in the world, on his own, lost and alone. A thought made all the more harrowing when the circumstances under which it is playing out is set against the backdrop of war. To live that nightmare is to step into the very premise of British screenwriter-director Steve McQueen’s latest historical fiction feature film, Blitz, streaming now on Apple+ TV.


Blitz follows the journey of George Handway, (played by newcomer Elliott Heffernan), as a nine-year-old biracial boy during World War II who is separated from his mother, Rita (Saoirse Ronan), when she reluctantly places him on a train to be evacuated from war-torn London for his own safety. The year is 1940, during the months-long German Blitz, short for Blitzkrieg — the Nazis’ brutal lightning war of nightly air raids against Great Britain. 





During the relentless siege, the Luftwaffe destroyed more than two million homes and buildings in relentless air assaults, most often carried out over night. More than 40,000 British civilians were killed, while others were forced into the London Underground’s (aka train tunnels) makeshift bomb shelters. To preserve the next generation, thousands of children were sent to the English countryside for their own protection. 


While the film is set within the context of historical happenings, it is neither based on real events nor true-to-life characters.

The story of George is said to be merely the figment of McQueen’s imagination after discovering an old war photograph of a young black boy standing alone in a train station with only a suitcase during the director’s research of the Blitz campaigns.

Whether the film is meant to be a poignant story of a mother’s love and sacrifice, or a sweeping commentary on the devastating effects of war, is unclear, given that, at times, it does not allow itself space to take a deeper dive into either, effectively. 


The film jumps back and forth from the present to the past to show George’s sweet and nostalgic relationship with his mother and live-in maternal grandfather. However, the film unfolds more like a scrapbook of lost memories piece-mealed together rather than a complete and fluid story. With very little nuanced character arcs, the war drama invites more questions than it truly answers — Who was George’s father? Where is Rita’s mother? How has George’s mother helped her son, with the caramel-colored skin, navigate his identity through a decidedly monochromatic upbringing?


Though, it is obvious that George is different from all the other children of his southeast London neighborhood, the racial undertones and struggles of identity themes of the film are only hinted at (and, once again, never fully explored) through a pair of flashback scenes of George and his mother being harassed on the street, and his father, a black man, being hauled away after a run-in with a group of white men after a night of drinking and dancing with Rita. Though unclear if the couple were ever married, we are left to assume a deep love existed between them in a throw-away scene meant to build a bridge to the past. 


By all estimates, the Handways lived rather staid lives in their corner of the world before the war. Conflict for the mother-son seems to come only for the first time when Rita must acquiesce to sending her son away for his own safety during the Blitz. Angered and hurt by his mother’s decision, George refuses to say goodbye or even acknowledge her when she takes him to the train station.





As the train carrying the hundreds of children barrels through the English countryside making its way to safety, George immediately settles into regret at being angry with his mother. With determination and defiance etched on his face and his suitcase in-hand, the young lad jumps from the locomotive to the dewy mountain grass below to make his way back to his mother. With nary a scratch nor broken bone, George, armed with only a sandwich and some schilling, begins his long walk home only to find himself immediately thrust into a series of perilous circumstances. 


For most of his journey, George’s mother does not even know he is missing. When she is pulled aside during her shift at the factory and given the news of his disappearance, Rita, with her heart in her throat, sets out to find George on her own.

During his time afoot, George finds himself in the company of a rather eclectic slew of interesting people — some helpful, some nefarious, all drifting quickly on and off canvas during his experiences. And, just as we, the audience, are about to get invested in these side character stories, George’s journey takes a turn and he is pushed on to the next distressing situation. 


Back home, life in the midst of war becomes robotic for those left behind to make sense of it and find a sense of purpose living through it. By day, Rita, the proverbial wartime riveter, works at the local munitions plant making weapons for the troops on the front line — welding, painting, sanding, and stenciling the bombs. For the women like Rita, it is the only way to keep up a sense of normalcy and keep her wits about her as she frets over having sent her son away. 


We learn the backstory of George’s father in only one scene and one mention when George’s mother slips a weathered St. Christopher (patron saint of travelers) pendant around George’s neck for protection. We learn of the pendant’s history in flashback as George’s father bestows it upon Rita on the very night he is taken away from her. And, while the George’s grandfather (Paul Weller) is presented as a constant of calm in the daily chaos, we never learn any more about him than he is gifted pianist for the family. 


The heart of the film remains George. Despite having only a handful of actual lines throughout the film, Heffernan’s ability to convey a spectrum of emotions for the character through his often pensive, chocolate-drop eyes and stoic facial expressions is remarkable for a debut performance of one so young. In moments of anger, Heffernan’s brows furrow and his eyes flash with intensity, allowing us to feel the turmoil mixed with fear and uncertainty brewing just beneath his surface as he confronts each new, an unexpected experience. What’s more impressive is how the young actor balances these heavy emotions with moments of vulnerability and tenderness. In scenes where he recalls memories of happier times with his onscreen family, a flicker of hope dances in his eyes, only to be quickly overshadowed by the weight of his current reality. 





The seesaw of the mother-and-son trauma is balanced by Ronan and her own strong performance as the factory-working, amateur songstress single mother, with the alabaster skin and golden hair coifed beautifully by soft pin curls. Her character serves as a symbol, of sorts, as she is often seen in scenes of anguish — saying goodbye to her son, walking amongst the rubble of a recent air raid, wearing a beautifully tailored, but out-of-place attire in blood red. Coincidence? Or, perhaps, a subtle foreshadowing of the danger always simmering around her in the wake of her decision. It is difficult for audiences to truly know for sure, as the whys of who the maternal character is are never given the opportunity to fully form.


Nevertheless, what Blitz lacks in fully realized character development it often makes up for in stunning cinematography and even sound editing, showcasing the devastating aftermath of the nightly bombings punctuated by an eerie dead silence onscreen for what feels like full minutes at a time. The effect highlights the profound emptiness that comes with brutal and calculated loss. 


The wide, often panoramic aerial camera shots of death and destruction complement the emotional landscape the characters must navigate on the ground in the after-effects of war. The haunting score by Hans Zimmer, enhances the cinematic visuals, echoing the themes of loss, devastation, and heartache that underscore both George and Rita’s respective journeys to reunite. 

Harrison Dickinson, Benjamin Clementine, Kathy Burke, Stephen Graham, and Leigh Gill round out the supporting cast. 


Debuting at the BFI London Film Festival in early October, Blitz, premiered on the Apple+ streaming platform on November 22. 




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