Blitz (2024), written, produced and directed by Steve McQueen, begins with a riveting opening sequence filled with a sprawling, uncontrollable fire, enhanced by the loud sound design. Yet what the audience does not immediately realise is that this moment will become more important later on.
Upon encouragement from authorities, Rita, played by Saoirse Ronan, sends her only son George (Elliot Hefernan) away with the Education Department, until it is safer for families to reunite. A disappointed George then jumps off the train, with the film following the aftermath of both their decisions, as they face countless setbacks in their attempts to reunite.
Blitz seamlessly evokes the 1940s Londonian landscape with the standard elements of costuming, jazz music and swing dancing. The narrative is largely told chronologically, with intercuts between the present and flashbacks, which while interrupting the unfolding events, provided necessary context such as that of the absence of Marcus, George’s father (CJ Beckford).
While the film switches from George’s perspective to Rita’s, George’s journey is prioritised with the most screen time, and as such, the audience is able to see the realities of war through the eyes of a child. Ronan delivers a faultless performance as always, but it is Herfernan who carries the film as he embodies a child reckoning with the heartbreaking journey of being lost and trying to survive.
Jack (Harris Dickinson), an auxiliary fireman, is a sweet addition, harbouring a silent crush on Rita, yet his full potential as a character is never fully realised. He is present to add some minor tension and be helpful towards the end, only to never be seen again. Hiring Dickinson, a talented actor in his own right in such a thankless role was a bit baffling, perhaps so as to not have a romance distract from the mother-son relationship at the core of the film. Similarly, Rita’s father Gerald, played by Paul Weller, occupies a smaller role, acting as a source of comfort in both dialogue and while seated at the piano.
The representation of history in Blitz is interesting to say the least; in some ways it pushes boundaries in the mythologisation of Britain’s experience of the Second World War, but ultimately straddles the fence between orthodoxy and revisionism.
This is apparent from the very start. Blitz opens with text situating the viewer in the context of Britain’s situation in 1940, after the collapse of France but before Nazi Germany’s invasion of the USSR and the United States’ entry into the war. Hitler’s bombs are battering London, we are told – a fairly conventional opening to a war film set in this time. What is unusual is the line “Britain and its Commonwealth allies stood alone”.
British narratives of the Blitz (and surrounding events, including the disaster at Dunkirk and the first years of the war in North Africa and the Mediterranean) usually emphasise that Britain stood alone against the barbarism of fascism that had overtaken the European continent, and threatened the world. This conventional wisdom is a massive oversight: Britain did not stand alone, but ruled the largest Empire the world had ever known, with the vast reserves of manpower and materiel this entailed.
Empire is a key part of Blitz. London’s East End is depicted as culturally diverse, with people from across the Empire living (and sheltering) alongside white Britons. George stumbles on “Empire Arcade” featuring (racist) displays depicting goods from across the British Empire.
Living in a predominantly white suburb, George is not immune from racism and bullying from his peers, even as they interact and play together. Ife (Benjamin Clémentine), a warden and Nigerian man, acts as a father figure and stands up to various forms of racial discrimination, including when a white family tries to segregate themselves from brown and black people when sharing a bunker. Ife’s response prompts him to proudly declare, “I am a black man,” after having declared that his father was, but that he is not.
Most importantly, Ife, seems to stand in for the millions of Indian, African, Caribbean, and Pasifika soldiers, sailors, labourers, and nurses who suffered, fought and died under the banner of the British Empire — whether under duress or of their own volition — to hold out against Nazi Germany (and later Japan) and ultimately defeat fascism.
This is refreshing. Traditional narratives of Britain’s supposed isolated stand against Nazism are disrespectful of the contribution and sacrifice of its Imperial subjects across the world. Additionally, they act as part of the nexus of British mythology that whitewashes that country’s often brutal imperialism that lasted well into the 20th century and beyond. Importantly, the Britain-standing-alone narrative plays an important part in white nationalist mythology in the modern UK: conservative extremists and British nationalists have long attempted to erase colonial contributions to the British war effort to make the UK appear “white.”
However, McQueen falls slightly short. Whilst it is certainly a good step to push against these narratives, my eye caught on the word “Commonwealth” as it sat in the textual introduction. It is a striking fact that the British Commonwealth — as we know it now — was not a concept outside the white-majority dominions before the Second World War. Britons at the time thought of their overseas territories — aside from Canada, Australia and New Zealand — in the language of Colonies and Empire. Not calling the Empire what it was fails to acknowledge the suffering inflicted on the all-too-often-unwilling subjects of the British Empire. This includes atrocities like the Bengal Famine that killed millions, in part due to British negligence. It fails to acknowledge the racism implicit in the British leadership throughout the war, and fails to acknowledge the racism that existed among the white British public that is explicitly depicted in the film.
However, straddling the fence has more positive implications when considering how Blitz deals with other aspects of the Blitz narrative. Traditionally, the Blitz is seen in Britain as a moment in which the public was united in selflessness and quiet sacrifice. It was Britain’s darkest hour, yet its finest. Everyone was in it together, social class notwithstanding, and worked hard day-in-day-out to push through. In this view, “keep calm and carry on” was the phrase of the day, and Briton’s swung behind a government now led by Winston Churchill and endured to fight another day and eventually liberate Europe from fascism.
However, revisionist historians — as they are wont to do — call bullshit. Blitz revisionism pulls apart this mythology, depicting the public as selfish and terrified. The impact of class on the Blitz experience is emphasised, with working class areas of London — where people lived amongst dockyards and factories — often bearing the brunt of the bombing. Evidence of widespread looting is tabled, and historians point to anger at the British government following the disaster of the fall of France and panic surrounding bombing in a society still traumatised by the First World War.
McQueen walks the line between these perspectives to construct a more nuanced view of the Blitz. Sacrifice, solidarity, and stiff-upper-lip endurance are demonstrated in ordinary British and Empire characters; women factory workers, self-less firefighters, kindly air raid wardens, and compassionate socialists populate the film. Londoner’s sing together in bomb shelters to boost morale, and the character of Mickey (Leigh Gilles), a Jewish underground leader, served as a brief but enigmatic presence with a memorable and rousing speech to stiffen civilian resolve.
However, acts of defiance are woven through the film, with female munitions workers taking to the microphone live on BBC radio to say “we need shelters, open up the Underground”, who know that they will be fired from their jobs soon after.
Additionally, George learns that cruelty can be veiled by kindness when a woman by the name of Jess (Mica Ricketts) takes him and promises to help him find his way home, only to be conscripted to assist looters raid bombed-out houses and even bodies.
The wealthy are able to attend lavish restaurants with saliva-inducing dishes and live music. Londoners panic as they try to escape falling bombs. Racism is omnipresent, and ordinary Britons protest against unresponsive government protocols that bar the use of the Underground as an air-raid shelter.
McQueen also includes instances of official misconduct against the backdrop of war; including Air Raid Wardens turning a blind eye to the looting of destroyed buildings and engaging in acts of police brutality against minorities.
This paints a more complex picture of wartime Britain that engages with both orthodox and revisionist positions on the Blitz. By incorporating both perspectives it rejects them, opting for an ambitiously detailed painting of a very complicated historical landscape.
Another interesting point that emerges from Blitz can be found in other films released in 2024 — notably Alex Garland’s Civil War (2024): the depiction of the horrors of war in a familiar location to Western audiences.
Most WWII films centred on Allied forces exist in two frameworks. Either they depict the sterile machinations of politicians and commanders, focusing on larger-than-life “great men” like Churchill (2017), or Patton (1970). Or, perhaps more commonly, they focus on the lives of ordinary soldiers as they fight in far-flung places like Libya and Burma, or even continental Europe. Even Dunkirk (2017) largely takes place across the channel from the UK proper.
Blitz brings the horrors of war home, showing the harrowing effects of bombing on ordinary British people. London burns and its ruins smoulder; Londoners scream as their underground shelters quake under the force of the bombs. Perhaps most affecting is the aftermath of the bombing of a fancy restaurant full of revellers. Looters play with the corpses of wealthy Londoners killed as the blast pressure of the bombs exploded their lungs whilst leaving their bodies untouched and upright in their seats.
Much like Garland’s Civil War, McQueen’s Blitz brings the reality of war home to a Western audience by depicting the horrific experiences of ordinary people in a familiar location. Due to the timeline of film production, it would be perhaps apt to suggest that this is a reaction to the War in Ukraine, but it is a sobering reminder considering the bloodshed currently unfolding in Palestine, Sudan, Myanmar and elsewhere.
But perhaps most importantly, in a time where five to nine-year-olds are the most killed age group killed in Gaza, and where Palestinian children held a press conference outside Al-Shifa Hospital to plead with the international community and say, “we invite you to protect us,” Blitz reminds us, that children have continued to, and will continue to suffer in war zones. Even as children beg for help, resist or are separated from their parents, war will always find them.
Blitz premiered in Sydney on November 7 as part of the British Film Festival. It will be released globally on Apple TV+ on November 22.
