Blitz, on Apple TV+

Most Americans cannot imagine what it was like in London during the Blitz and simply couldn’t handle living under such a constant threat of death. There is one nation that can identify with survivors of the Blitz—Israel, a nation that endured ceaseless suicide bombings well before October 7^th. To a degree, viewers get a taste of the crushing enormity of the National Socialists’ indiscriminate bombardment in director-screenwriter Steve McQueen’s Blitz, which premieres tomorrow on Apple TV+.

After watching the first ten minutes of Blitz, it is easy to understand why Rita Hanway secured a place for her son George aboard one of the last trains evacuating children to the countryside. However, he resents his single mother supposedly unloading him, so his parting words are terrible. Yet, he will probably better understand her reluctant decision after the events he will witness during the film.

Indeed, he feels rather guilty once the train steams away, so he soon hops off, to make his way back to her. Of course, the journey hopping rails hobo-style would be rather unsafe, even under ordinary circumstances. With the Luftwaffe carpet-bombing the East End, it is downright perilous. Even when he makes it back to London, the dangers are not over, especially when Albert’s Dickensian gang of corpse and bombsite looters get their claws into him.

Meanwhile, as Ms. Hanway pines for her son and his Caribbean immigrant father, whose life might have been ironically saved when the authorities deported him, she is drawn to the socialist preachings of the leader of a makeshift alternate bomb-shelter.

There are huge set-pieces in Blitz that are nothing short of brilliant. The opening prologue is truly jaw-dropping and a later sequence, showing Ken “Snakehips” Johnson’s final performance up until and past the point a German bomb falls on the swanky night where he was performing is probably even more devastating.

Weirdly, Blitz probably would have been stronger if McQueen had de-emphasized the narrative and concentrated on the viscerally tactile recreations of the devastation unleashed on London. There are images in this film that are truly unforgettable.

On the other hand, the mother-son melodrama comes across as forced and even rather contrived, in comparison. Plus, McQueen’s attempts at class-conscious social commentary ring with pettiness, given the wider circumstances. Frankly, in both cases, the dialogue sounds rather wooden.

Arguably, Blitz would have been a much better film if it talked less and showed more. Young Elliott Heffernan is very strong throughout the film, but McQueen’s decisions only truly let him shine in a handful of gem-like scenes. One standout example would be his late-night encounter with Ife, a sympathetic air-raid warden of West African descent, played with aching sensitivity by Benjamin Clementine. His relatively small supporting performance is absolutely beautiful and a highlight of Blitz.

FOE: The Lazy, Hazy Near-Future

Supposedly, this near-future world is dangerously overpopulated and environmentally degraded, but you would not know it from the vast lonely prairie vistas surrounding Henrietta (Hen) (who never has need of any protective gear). She endures the loneliness that drove the Badlands settlers mad. For her husband Junior, this is what life is supposed to look like. Perhaps that is why their marriage has been strained. However, they must soon spend a year apart, except maybe not exactly. Their dystopian government has a plan to address their needs, but as usual, it will have unintended consequences in Garth Davis’s FOE, which opens today in theaters.

Terrance is from the government and he is here to help. It turns out Junior has been selected to work on the international space station for a year. You wouldn’t think they need many dirt-farmers in space, but it is for some kind of rural poor representational quota. Of course, that means he must leave Hen alone for an entire year, in the over-populated world, where her only contact with other people comes from waiting on tables in a tiny little diner.

For her sake, Terrance will AI-clone Junior, but to do so properly, he must know the darkest corners of Junior’s mind and truly understand the state of their marriage. To that end, he moves in with the couple and constantly asking uncomfortable sexual questions, like James Spader in Sex, Lies, and Video Tape.

FOE could have been an effective Outer Limits-style thriller if it played up the dystopian paranoia and wasn’t set in the middle of acres and acres of wide-open scrub grass. However, Davis opted instead to make a Terrence Malick film. Although, in a weird way, all the hazy, sun-flared staring off into the horizon misdirects viewers from the surprise twist.

In fact, FOE addresses some big ideas in a surprisingly thoughtful manner. However, getting to that good stuff requires enduring the equivalent of cinematic anesthesia. If you’re not sufficiently caffeinated, it will likely put you out. To say the pacing is slow and deliberate would be diplomatic.

Stockholm, Pennsylvania: From Sundance to Lifetime

Ben McKay represents science fiction fandom at its absolute darkest. After kidnapping four-year-old Leann Dargon from a playdate, McKay renames her Leia, after you-know-who and trains her to worship the universe. At least, he spares her the Xenu creation myth. Brainwashed into believing the apocalypse has transpired, Dargon spends seventeen years in McKay’s basement before the police finally find her. McKay was the only world Dargon ever knew. One hesitates to use the word “family,” but that was how she saw him, making her homecoming decidedly awkward in Nikole Beckwith’s Stockholm, Pennsylvania, which premieres on Lifetime this Saturday after screening at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival (yes, true story).

Dargon does not remember her parents and she is woefully under-socialized, so Marcy Dargon tries (unsuccessfully) to temper high hopes for their reunion. More circumspect by nature, her husband Glen just wants to settle into a routine and proceed to let time heal wounds. Since she makes little attempt to hide her affection for McKay, relations between mother and daughter start to fray as soon as they are re-established. It is all painfully believably for a spell, but as soon as the Dargons separate, the film descends into dark but ludicrously overwrought territory.

It raised some eyebrows when a dramatic competition selection at this year’s Sundance bypassed theaters, heading directly for Lifetime. However, it makes sense when you take into account the fact it isn’t very good. For most of the film, Cynthia Nixon’s overacting is locked in a death struggle with Saoirse Ronan’s bloodless understatement. Frankly, the latter looks like she is just trying to get through a mistake, which is understandable. In contrast, Nixon approaches the sort of self-indulgent twitchy bombast Meryl Streep specializes in. That is not a compliment.

Still, David Warhofsky is completely credible as the put-upon, conflict-avoiding Glen Dargon, while Rosalind Chao’s Dr. Andrews serves as the film’s voice of reason, in more ways than one. It is a really smart supporting turn—and somehow all the best written dialogue comes in her scenes.

Beckwith stacks the deck against Marcy Dargon, well beyond all reason and fairness. (I can’t speak for a twenty-two year old woman with Stockholm Syndrome, but trust-building exercises like the old “fall backwards and let me catch you” game are a surefire way to alienate me.) The flashbacks featuring McKay are also invariably clumsy and the big twist ending is a complete misfire that really makes no sense when you start to think about it. If Stockholm, PA had focused more on Leia/Leann’s sparring sessions with Dr. Andrews, her court-appointed head-shrinker, it might have gotten further, but as it stands, the film gets to be a real chore at about the hour mark. Not recommended (but a weird spectacle to behold, nevertheless), Stockholm, Pennsylvania airs this Saturday (5/9) on Lifetime.

Byzantium: Neil Jordan Takes on the Undead Again

Evidently, vampirism is supposed to be an old boys’ club.  Eleanor and her sister Clara are certainly not boys.  At least they are old, but they hardly look it.  Immortality is a strange existence for them in Byzantium (trailer here), Neil Jordan’s worthy return to the world of the undead, which opens this Friday in New York at the IFC Center.

For two hundred years, Eleanor has been a mixed up teenager.  She routinely writes the story she is forbidden from telling, casting her words to the wind.  Eleanor also drinks human blood to survive, but she only “takes” those who are ready and willing to go.  She was whisked away from her orphanage and turned eternal by her “guardian” Clara.  Ever since, they have not-lived on the run, eluding a cabal of male vampires who never sanctioned either woman joining their ranks.

Clara does not have Eleanor’s scruples.  She is a survivor, typically falling back on her old profession—the oldest one.  Even though she haunts the sleazier spots in town, she finds a decent enough chap to shack up with in Noel.  He happens to have a vacant hotel they can use as a base of operations—the Byzantium.  Despite Clara’s insistence on secrecy, Eleanor feels increasingly compelled to share her story, which is a dangerous proposition.

Adapted by Moira Buffini from her stage play, A Vampire Story, Byzantium offer some intriguing twists on the familiar vampire mythos (the hat tips to Byron and Polidori are also nice touches).  Yet, it is driven by the telling of the tale, which establishes quite a compelling fairy tale vibe.  Jordan masterfully handles the flashbacks, while maintaining the eerie mood.  He also deftly incorporates music into key scenes.  There is an elegant lushness to Byzantium, much in the tradition of Jordan’s previous supernatural films and the better Hammer Horror productions.

Somehow, Saoirse Ronan projects both teen angst and world-weary resignation.  It is a rather soulful portrayal of the soulless.  A fully committed Gemma Arterton impressively vamps it up in every way possible as Clara.  Sam Riley adds a dash of Twilightness as the mysterious vampire Darvell (revisiting the seaside locale of Brighton Rock) with Thure Lindhardt (from Eddie the Sleepwalking Cannibal) and Uri Gavriel (the blind prisoner of the pit in Dark Knight Rises) bringing some global genre cred in supporting roles.

By supernatural genre standards, Byzantium is unusually engaging on an emotional level.  It is a stylish production, bolstered by some evocative sets and locations.  Highly recommended for those who prefer their vampire films moody and brooding rather than gory, Byzantium opens this Friday (6/28) at the IFC Center.

Violet and Daisy: Killer Style

These two could probably use a serious talking to from Dr. Drew.  Despite their very adult job killing people, Violet and her latest teenaged protégé seem stuck in a permanent state of arrested development.  However, their latest assignment might lead to a bit of growing-up in Geoffrey Fletcher’s Violet & Daisy (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

When not whacking gangsters, Daisy and her mentor try to live a Spice World lifestyle.  Although slightly burned out, they accept another assignment from the hardboiled Russ, because their favorite pop idol has just released a new line of dresses. It will be a strange gig.  For one reason, their sad sack target seems relieved when they arrive locked-and-loaded.

Suspicious of Michael’s resignation, the girls do not immediately kill him.  Of course, the more they get to know him, the harder it will be to get the job done, especially for Daisy.  A rival hit squad and the boss’s sniper-minder further complicate matters.  Loyalties will fray and bullets will fly, as V&D coyly subverts gangster genre expectations.

Fletcher was nominated for an Oscar for his screenplay adaptation of Precious, etc, etc, but do not hold that against V&D.  This film builds up quite a body count, but it is also rather clever and has some real heart.  Somehow, he maintains a fable-like vibe, despite the gritty backdrop and not infrequent on-screen violence.  Intriguingly, it can be seen as another dark modern fairy tale starring Saoirse Ronan as the little lost princess, somewhat paralleling Neil Jordan’s accomplished Byzantium and the highly problematic Hanna.

Much like Fletcher, Ronan deftly walks a fine line, portraying Daisy’s wide-eyed innocence, without becoming cloying or saccharine.  She also develops some nice chemistry with her co-stars, Alexis Bledel and James Gandolfini.  The latter has some particularly fine moments as the world weary but still protective Michael, whereas the former comes across a bit affected at times, looking far less at ease with Fletcher’s genre defying tone.  For added seasoning, first rate character actors Danny Trejo and Marianne Jean-Baptiste show up in brief but colorful supporting parts.

V&D is a small film, but for cult cinema fans, it is a pleasant palate cleanser.  Frankly, it sounds like a terrible concept in every way, but Fletcher largely pulls it off.  Simultaneously violent, wistful, and amusing, Violet and Daisy is recommended for fans of Ronan, Gandolfini, and hitman comedies when it opens this Friday (6/7) in New York at the AMC Empire.