Blitz: A powerful, WWII-era character study

Blitz (2024) • View trailer

Five stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, violence, occasional profanity and racism

Available via: Apple TV+

By Derrick Bang

Back in 1987, writer/director John Boorman’s semi-autobiographical Hope and Glory presented the London Blitz as something of a “boys’ own adventure,” focusing on children who were too young to understand what was happening, and viewed the chaos as oddly exciting.

 

Shortly after joining hundreds of similarly frightened Londoners seeking shelter from a
bomb raid, by fleeing into a subway, George (Elliott Heffernan) suddenly becomes
aware of something just as dangerous...

Writer/director Steve McQueen’s Blitz takes a decidedly different view.

The setting is London, September 1940; Hitler’s Germany has just begun the eight-month bombing campaign designed to terrify England into quick submission. (He sure got that wrong.) As one immediate result, Operation Pied Piper evacuated 800,000 children from urban centers to outlying rural communities, over the course of just three days.

 

McQueen’s film opens on a terrifying scene, as untrained and outmatched firefighters attempt to extinguish multiple blazes caused by the most recent attack. It’s noisy, chaotic and scary ... particular when the scene shifts skyward, as more bombs slowly spiral their way down. In a few brief minutes, McQueen and his filmmaking team sketch the horror of random death and destruction.

 

This prologue is replaced by brief random shots, concluding with a field of flowers, which slowly fades as piano music is heard. Working-class single mother Rita (Saoirse Ronan) readies her 9-year-old son, George (Elliott Heffernan), with a tattered suitcase. They live with her father, Gerald (Paul Weller), a doting man who radiates kindness and compassion; he’s the piano player. Fleeting flashbacks establish the tight bond between these three, and the deep love that Rita and George share.

 

She’s shattered. Ronan’s stricken expression is heartbreaking, her eyes clenched, in order to prevent tears.

 

George, on the other hand, is furious. He absolutely doesn’t want to leave, refuses to understand why he should, and feels betrayed when his mother resolutely hustles him to the train station.

 

“I hate you!” he snaps, pain in his face, as he breaks from her and runs into a train car. When she spies him through a window, as the train pulls away, he refuses to meet her gaze as she implores him to say a proper goodbye.

 

What follows is powered by two phenomenal performances, from Ronan and young Heffernan, both so solidly “in character” that we soon forget we’re watching actors; they become Rita and George.

 

As the train proceeds, McQueen hits us with the jolt we’ve been dreading ... because George is a mixed-race child. Two loutish boys in the seat behind lean over; one runs his fingers through George’s “unusual” hair. Heeding his grandfather’s advice about bullies, George stands up to them ... and they retreat in embarrassed silence.

 

“All mouth, and no trousers,” George scoffs, recalling his grandfather’s words.

 

(Love that expression!)

The Sea Beast: Monstrously entertaining

The Sea Beast (2022) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG, for dramatic intensity

Available via: Netflix

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.15.22

Shrewdly thoughtful parables don’t get much better — or more enjoyable — than this one.

 

Director/co-scripter Chris Williams’ cunningly crafted “whale of a tale” deftly laces its gorgeously animated adventure saga with underlying themes of loyalty, inclusiveness, environmental awareness and — this is the biggie — the folly of blindly placing one’s faith in “accepted tradition.”

 

Despite his best efforts, Jacob always seems to get into trouble when Maisie is involved.

That’s a boatload of messaging, but the genius of Williams and Nell Benjamin’s script is that their film never feels like it’s preaching; such elements are an organic part of a thoroughly enjoyable story.

The setting is a somewhat familiar world, at a time akin to our late 17th century era of coastal towns and cities supported by sailing vessels. But these waters are laden with enormous sea beasts that prey on defenseless cargo ships, which has led to generations of heroic monster hunters who set sail in tall ships in order to attack these underwater giants.

 

It’s dangerous work, and the town orphanage is filled with children whose parents have perished in battle.

 

No ship is more respected than The Inevitable, helmed by the legendary Capt. Crow (voiced by Jared Harris) and his stalwart crew, most notably surrogate son Jacob Holland (Karl Urban). They’ve long defeated such monsters, at constant risk to life and limb, always returning to port with proof of kill — a tusk, a tail spike, a claw — for the King (Jim Carter), Queen (Doon Mackichan) and grateful townsfolk.

 

The film opens with a rip-snortin’ clash between The Inevitable and a Brickleback: an impressively nasty, hard-shelled behemoth with massive, ship-shredding tentacles. This is an exciting, tautly edited sequence — Joyce Arrastia, take a bow — that establishes the characters of Crow, Jacob, Lt. Sarah Sharpe (Marianne Jean-Baptiste) and taskmaster Ms. Merino (Helen Sadler).

 

Nobody admires them more than little Maisie Brumble (Zaris-Angel Hator), an orphan who has long dreamed of becoming a monster hunter: in part to avenge her parents, who went down with The Monarch. Maisie has devoured the many books that have mythologized Captain Crow, Jacob, The Inevitable and all their predecessors.

 

She’s also quite precocious and outspoken, with a tendency to “escape” from the orphanage — and then get dragged back — each time a monster-hunting ship returns to port. Needless to say, she’s not about to miss the Inevitable’s arrival.

 

But what should be a celebratory occasion is blunted by the King’s decision to decommission all monster-hunting vessels, and their crews. The task instead will be assigned to the Royal Navy, which has just developed a heavily armed battle ship: The Imperator, helmed by the vainglorious Adm. Hornagold (Dan Stevens).

 

In part, the King pompously adds, because Crow and The Inevitable never have been able to chase down the most fearsome of all sea beasts: the massive Red Bluster.

Pan: Soaring adventure

Pan (2015) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG, for fantasy action violence
By Derrick Bang

Old-style, kid-centric adventure films — those akin to Disney’s In Search of the Castaways or Richard Donner’s The Goonies — have become rare.

Today’s studio heads too frequently taint the formula with coarse humor and/or needlessly unpleasant violence, either (giving them the benefit of the doubt) in a misguided effort to court parents, or (more cynical, but more likely) to obtain the “tougher” PG-13 rating that generally does better business than a family-friendly PG.

Peter (Levi Miller, right) anticipates certain doom once he's forced off the ship's plank by
the dread Blackbeard (Hugh Jackman, in black). But although the boy doesn't yet know
it, he possesses a magic talent that will surprise everybody...

Which makes director Joe Wright’s Pan something of a minor miracle. It’s a throwback to kinder, gentler times, when young champions relied on pluck and resourcefulness, rather than sarcasm and potty humor. Scripter Jason Fuchs’ imaginative fantasy is a thrilling ride from start to finish: laden with stalwart heroes and opulently dastardly villains, wildly imaginative locales and a high-spirited adolescent hero who could have stepped from the pages of a Charles Dickens novel (with a detour that L. Frank Baum would have appreciated).

Fuchs’ story speculates on a question that might have occurred to young fans of Scottish novelist/playwright J.M. Barrie’s celebrated “boy who wouldn’t grow up.” It’s a tantalizing query: How did Peter Pan become himself?

Fuchs, making a respectable big-screen solo scripting debut, plays with elements of Barrie’s original mythos, while borrowing scenarios and character archetypes from other fantasy sources. The crazy-quilt result is a bit uneven at times, but Wright and editors William Hoy and Paul Tothill keep things moving so rapidly, that you’re not likely to mind.

The action begins at London’s bleak Lambeth Home for Boys, during the height of the WWII blitz, where 12-year-old Peter (Levi Miller, doing an excellent job in his feature debut) and his fellow youngsters are routinely terrorized by Mother Barnabas (Kathy Burke), the imperious and just-plain-mean nun who runs the place. Peter has long suspected that Mother Barnabas has been hoarding all the tasty food rations while forcing the children to subsist on gruel, but in truth her perfidy is much, much worse.

Aside from these suspicions regarding the orphanage provisions, the bigger issue concerns the ongoing — and unexplained — disappearances of a few boys each night. The answer to that question proves calamitous, when Peter is among those snatched the next time around. He finds himself on (of all things) a pirate ship floating high above, which “sails” air currents the way an ordinary vessel would navigate the seven seas.