Steve McQueen’s “Blitz” (Apple TV+) is a tale of two Londons under harrowing German aerial assault during World War II. There’s the communal stiff-upper-lip resilience that defines the Brits and the more personal family drama, which centers on biracial youngster George (Elliott Heffernan), who’s hurled on an incredible “Oliver Twist”-like adventure. After being evacuated out of London on a train with other children for safekeeping, George immediately runs away and perilously heads back home to his munitions worker mom, Rita (Saoirse Ronan), and musical grandfather Gerald Hanway (Paul Weller of The Jam).
The convergence of these two perspectives in “Blitz” becomes the basis of a primal survival story told as social realist fable. It alternates between naturalism and surrealism, yet it’s completely anchored in historical truth. Among the real-life incidents depicted in the film: the East End air-raid shelter run by Mickey (“the Midget”) Davies’ (Leigh Gill); tube stations broken into because they weren’t official shelters amid social protests; the BBC entering factories to get people to perform on national radio; the bombing of the Café de Paris nightclub and restaurant; and gangs of thieves that robbed their way through London, which becomes a nod to Fagin and his Artful Dodgers when George gets kidnapped.
For editor Peter Sciberras (“The Power of the Dog”), the challenge was bringing these two worlds together in an organic way, with the shocking realism bumping up against the dreamlike nightmare of George’s perspective. “The thing with Steve’s stuff is even when it is in that fable world, the truth is still the guiding light,” Sciberras told IndieWire.
“Blitz” drops us into the chaotic, handheld scene of firefighters trying to put out a raging fire while overwhelmed by a loose spitting firehose. “We had a lot of shots that were more composed, like traditional Hollywood for that,” Sciberras said. “Like setting up something with wide and slow tracks and into the fire. But it was visceral and grabbed you straight away, so you could just instantly tell that anytime we went too wide or too composed, it lost its impact. It feels quite extreme and the sound design is also in your face.”
Then we’re introduced to Rita, Gerald (who plays the piano), and George in their East London house. “It’s kind of this epic and this incredibly intimate story that Steve was telling me about really early,” the editor added. “You’re in this blaze, and there’s a closeup of a bomb falling, and the buildings are falling down. It’s about as harrowing a sequence can be, and then you’ve got the daisies, which are kind of a connecting tissue, and then you find the central characters of the film.”
But getting into George’s psyche becomes important once he gets off the bus in central London and walks around a shopping arcade in a daze. This seems odd at first because it’s a lot more heightened than the rest of the film. “You’re really in George’s mind of confusion where he’s just watching things,” Sciberras said.
As George finds himself lost in the darkness of the shopping arcade, he’s found by Ife (Benjamin Clementine), a Black air-raid warden from Nigeria. He briefly becomes a kind paternal figure of hope for George during this transitional moment. “You can imagine that that’s one of the first Black people he’s ever talked to or had a proper conversation with, especially in such a vulnerable position that he’s in,” said Sciberras.
The use of song, meanwhile, permeates the film as a show of strength and as a coping device. McQueen tapped Nicholas Britell and Taura Stinson to compose three original songs in the style of the period: the family-centric “Brighter Days,” an instrumental that Gerald plays on piano early on and reprised during George’s underground dream sequence; “Before We Go,” a lighthearted pub sing-along from Gerald; and “Winter Coat,” which is the defining moment for Rita as a mother and a member of the community.
“Some things are just hard to talk about, so why not sing together and get through it?” said Sciberras. “I love ‘Show Me the Way to Go Home’ in the bomb shelter And the amazing thing, like, Rita’s song that she sings in the factory for the BBC, ‘Winter Coat.’ That’s a beautiful love song, devoted to George and the rest of the kids that have been sent away. That wasn’t originally intercut with George’s journey, but it felt crazy not to. Thank God Saoirse can sing as well as she can. I think Steve didn’t know if she could actually sing. before she got cast. That song’s also based on a winter coat that’s the only thing Steve has that belonged to his father after he passed away.
“I also love how that song gets undercut by the social tension of a protest,” he continued. “It’s a juxtaposition of this beautiful tender moment with ladies, like screaming at the top of their lungs about needing shelters and opening up the underground.”
After George gets kidnapped by a Fagin-esque gang of thieves, he’s pressured into robbing a jewelry store in a moment of suspense. “That jewelry store was really fun to cut as well, hiding George for so long and having these two bumbling wardens go through this place and block off his exit. And then finally discover that he might be there,” Sciberras noted.
This leads to the excitement of the Café de Paris musical jazz sequence before the shock of the bombing, when George finds an opportunity to escape. “It’s a composed sequence where so much of it’s in one shot,” Sciberras said. “But we spent so much time on sound in that as well and just getting the band sounding so great. And those bombs falling throughout was an edit/VFX idea to bridge into it with this recurring theme of a whistling, high-pitched, aggressive bomb sound. So that when we get to the end of the Café de Paris sequence and the camera’s pulling out, you hear that same tone again and you just instantly know what’s coming.”
The third act gets even more perilous. George reunites with his mother, loses her, and wanders around a train station tunnel before a bomb explodes, causing a flood. “After we leave the gang and he’s gone through the bombing and down the stairs and watching the Punch and Judy puppet show, that’s where we really get into George’s head,” the editor said.
“Even the way he goes to sleep, it’s quite surreal,” added Sciberras. “He sees a couple having sex on the tracks, and we see Rita finding a space to cry in a way that echos into George’s surreal walk away. It’s a beautiful way to just step out. He’s shell-shocked and realizes that he’s not really a kid anymore. He’s seen some stuff now.”
