Review: "Widows" is the Best Kind of Heist Film Imaginable

Scene from Widows

In 2013, director Steve McQueen released 12 Years a Slave. It was a film so vital and important that it could be considered one of the rare essential American films of the 21st century so far. With stark honesty, he captured an uncomfortable piece of U.S. history and helped to reshape the history, and all with lingering shots of brutality that forces the viewer to soak in the discomfort. So, how does McQueen follow up the film? Fives years later he has returned with Widows, which in the first 30 seconds features a brash edit so explosive that it rattles the audience in a new way. This is McQueen not as the methodical filmmaker he has been known as, but as someone who places urgency in every frame, artistry in every angle, and enough memorable bits to make this one of the best films of 2018. It's a heist movie with one of the year's greatest ensembles and an even more electric script by Gillian Flynn (Gone Girl). It's a film that will grab you in your seat and not let go for the entire two hours. It's perfect evidence that McQueen doesn't only make good art films, but just good films in geneal.

From the back of a heist van, the film starts with the husbands of the titular widows. With quick editing, McQueen establishes a blend of the deep intimacy that these men had towards their wives juxtaposed against their reality. They're petty criminals trying to score millions as the police chase them. The audience is already unnerved as an intimate kiss cuts to the final cornering where these men are gunned down in brutal fashion. Without much establishment, McQueen has introduced this world and placed everyone into their proper context. These are the widows who discover the corruption of their husbands, whose absence effects their lives in more ways than one. For some, it's the absence of a second parent to rear a child. For others, it's a financial loss. Whatever the case may be, there's disparage before the plot even establishes the Chicago streets where the action happens, or how the opposing political candidates Jamal Manning (Bryan Tyree Henry) or Jack Mulligan (Colin Farrell) play into the cards.

Still, the heart attack of the opening is what sells the rest of the film, which is far more intricate and patient. While it's accentuated with another aggressive Hans Zimmer score, most of the film's best moments are subdued conversations between individuals trying to make things right. This is especially true for Veronica (Viola Davis), who becomes targeted by Jamal's brother Jatemme (Daniel Kaluuya) early on as someone needing to pay back a debt that her husband (Liam Neeson) died for. It effects Jamal's candidacy, which only begins to allude to the corruption of the political subtext. The film corners its characters in a manner that is confrontational, leaving everyone hopeless to any other way out. It's a matter of life and death, and suddenly the amateur widows must learn how to defy all odds and settle the debts. For a premise so simple, McQueen chooses not to play anything easy. If a scene gets too comfortable, he jabs it in the lower abdomen. There is a need to be tense at every turn, and the film's reliance on complications within every character's text allows the film to convey its greed with a far more effective execution.

The film is an embarrassment of riches in the ensemble cast. Davis is front and center as the woman compiling the heist team. Her sternness makes her both a strong and confident woman but also someone who would be described as "difficult" to those she bosses around. Her control over the cast is so precise that it more than proves why Davis remains one of the most compelling actresses working. The same could be said for Daniel Kaluuya, fresh off of his Oscar-nominated turn in Get Out. As Jatemme, he brings a lunacy not unlike Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood. He is an intense figure who slowly becomes this shadow that hangs over the film. The mere presence of him is enough to make the audience squirm. By the time that he looks into your eyes, there's a good chance that death is knocking. It's a villain performance that could get by on its violent antics, but Kaluuya sells it with his earnest bond to Henry's Jamal. They're desperate for power, and the fear tactics work. In some ways, the film is more about solving the corruption of power, which intimidates everyone into poor behavior, and Jatemme is a perfect indictment of that issue.

McQueen has also assembled a fairly strong supporting cast, including Oscar-worthy performances by all of the titular widows: Linda (Michelle Rodriguez) and Alice (Elizabeth Debicki). With everyone playing a victim of circumstance, their motivations are all clear as their comfortable lives get destroyed in the wake of chaos. Linda is ragged, reflecting a desperation for stability that shines through her weary eyes. Alice is insecure without the man she was reliant on for seemingly everything. The struggle for independence carries them into their own struggles throughout the film, creating a deeper understanding of the conflicts of women in society. There's a need for them to be taken seriously outside of their dead husbands, and this heist is what'll do it. The dread of facing the same fate hangs over the scene, whether it be at the hand of police or Jatemme. Whatever the case may be, the quest to remove the dread from their lives adds a different wrinkle to the entire motivation and gives every character effective and unique goals within the story.

Much like his other work, McQueen's biggest achievement is in his direction. In several cases, he uses the long take to build an atmosphere for his characters. In scenes where Jatemme is required to be a menacing presence, the director lingers the camera around him, as if it's scared to watch the lion pounce on his prey. The longer the camera holds, the more it becomes painful. It's also a testament that his long takes are even given studio treatment with crane shots establishing location before cutting something more intimate in ways that add depth to the scene. The film is as much about the city as it is the characters. This is just one of the many stories in which people break bad for a chance at a better life. Even the way the McQueen shoots a car driving several blocks conveys disparity between those inside (the politicians) and the outside (the community). There's a desire to protect and improve everything, but the heart isn't there. It's best viewed through that car window, behind a wall of protection. Every moment that the camera hangs for more than five seconds, something pivotal happens and becomes some of the finest film making of the year and McQueen's career. While 12 Years a Slave may be more harrowing, Widows is a technical feat for a filmmaker who seemed less than likely to raise your heartbeat only five years ago.

As a form of entertainment, Widows is an incredible achievement that features so much craft that never lets up. Every moment matters, and every performance - even the quiet and lingering ones - matter to the bigger picture. The world that McQueen has created is one that uses corruption not as the sole excuse for the heist, but as the jumping off point for these excellent, moral grey-area characters to exist. It's full of an intensity that isn't always shown through aggression, but is omnipresent nonetheless. Everything about the film feels intentional to explaining why those husbands died and why these widows have no choice. Davis may give one of the year's best performances in the lead, but don't let that count out the half dozen other high caliber performances that should dominate awards season. This is what cinema should aspire to be. It's McQueen's most accessible film by a country mile while also being thematically consistent. He's struggling to understand why humanity behaves the way it does, and how the underprivileged don't always get the respect they deserve. There's power behind every move, and it's likely to be one of the most thrilling and memorable films of the year and maybe, depending on where he goes from here, McQueen's career.