Widows

Rating: R
Runtime: 2 hours, 9 minutes
Director: Steve McQueen

Quick Impressions:
British director Steve McQueen (Shame, Twelve Years a Slave) and American writer Gillian Flynn (Sharp Objects, Dark Places, Gone Girl) each use horrific, graphic violence in really different ways, so I was shocked and intrigued when I learned the two had written a movie together.

I mean, I really liked Shame and Twelve Years a Slave, but both films feature deeply damaged characters who have experienced terrible things and now torture themselves and/or others. Meanwhile, Flynn’s characters are damaged, sure, but she also loves a good plot twist, and all the evil acts usually create a lurid mystery that’s almost fun for the reader to experience. There is nothing fun about experiencing Twelve Years a Slave (or Shame, for that matter, unless you giggled at that rare bit of wit so often tossed out at awards shows that Michael Fassbender has a penis. I’m sure Steve McQueen was thrilled that that was what so many people in Hollywood seemed to take away from his film).

Anyway, when I learned that McQueen and Flynn would be collaborating, I was really curious about what these two oddly matched talents would cook up together.

In my mind, I like to imagine that they had a brainstorming session that began with the captivating question, “What if we made a movie about every single person in Chicago, and we recruited our dream cast to play all the main characters, and then we just kept introducing characters, and as the movie went on, we introduced a few more characters, and then some more characters, and then also a few more additional characters?”

Seriously, this movie has so many characters, it gives one of those giant Richard Scarry books about Busytown a run for its money! The cast is impressive, and just when you think you’ve been introduced to all the movie’s big stars, Robert Duvall casually drops into the story. Just the first part of the end credits (where they announce all the stars’ names before the cast list scrolls) lasts for like twenty-five minutes. We see, “Viola Davis,” then seventy-five famous names later, “and Liam Neeson.” It’s a true ensemble, too. Everybody gets a storyline and at least a bit of development. They all have so much to do! I don’t know where they find the energy, honestly! Just watching them is exhausting!

Speaking of Liam Neeson, I am pretty sure this movie has at least as many central characters as Love Actually. And it’s got a lot more shootings.

The Good:
This movie made me gasp out loud twice. And it made practically everyone else in the theater audibly gasp once. I cannot recall another time that I’ve experienced that while watching a film in the theater, such a loud, pronounced, collective gasp. The weird thing was, the second time I gasped, I gasped a good thirty seconds before everyone else. I was looking around in surprise wondering why nobody else was reacting, and then they all reacted much later, in (unusually loud) unison. I found that weird. I guess a smoking gun isn’t enough to impress some people.

But my first gasp matters more. I reacted so audibly. I even kind of jumped in my seat. I felt a little hop. As I’m remembering it now, I imagine my bottom catching air, but that can’t possibly be true. The moment physically startled me, though. In fact, the sound of my own gasp startled me further.

Why did I gasp? I shouldn’t have been surprised. When an angry criminal is holding a gun and reprimanding people, you’ve got to anticipate what might happen next. And my mind did know what was coming. But my body still gasped (kind of like when the doctor tests your reflexes by tapping you on the knee with the little hammer).

You know what? I think this first gasp (the reflex hammer) was a Steve McQueen gasp, and the second gasp (just a moment before the whole crowd gasped) was more a Gillian Flynn kind of gasp. (I have no idea how their collaboration worked, and I’m not claiming that McQueen was responsible for some moments, Flynn for others. I’m just saying Gasp #1 tapped into something I’ve previously experienced watching his films, while Gasp #2 reminded me of what I’ve felt reading her books).

And I think in general that first gasp is what made the movie work for me, while the second gasp led to material that felt perhaps too convoluted by the time it had all played out. The first gasp was exhilarating. The last gasp was exhausting.

One thing I loved about the film was its jarring juxtaposition of intense violence and daily routine. When you watch this movie, you really feel the shock of the violence. In so many crime films, bullets just spray around everywhere, and it doesn’t really matter, but here McQueen makes sure we feel the full force of every single bullet. Surely the shock of such violence must end everything!  But it doesn’t.  No matter the brutality of the moment, life continues for most people just as it always has.

I enjoy reading everything I can find about the Oscar race, and I’ve seen multiple people suggest that Widows isn’t the right kind of film to be a serious Best Picture contender (because of its focus on entertaining and thrilling the audience). After seeing the movie myself, I’m so confused. Why isn’t this Best Picture material? You could teach a college course focused on the issues Widows explores. One key subplot involves minority women (ostensibly) owning the small businesses in their own community. Widows also touches on political corruption, graft, racism, nepotism, and the question, “What can women own?” (Do they really own their businesses? Do they really own their bodies? Do they really own their lives? Can they be owned?) At one point Davis’s character Veronica says she is determined to pull off the heist, “Because I don’t own anything!” Plus one of the movie’s big and important secrets relates to a controversial topic so much in the news lately that people have begun to despair. Certainly Widows has a lot to say. (Now, an argument could be made that its message is muddled because it raises more points than it can make sense of, that it’s trying to say too much. I’ll talk about that later.) But if A Star is Born is Best Picture material, I would love to know why Widows is not.

I think the film very effectively shows us how shocking violence ought to be. It also makes us realize the disturbing power of a single act of violence, how survivors’ trauma lingers to shape everything they do.

I also love the use of Veronica’s dog. She carries him everywhere with her, and we understand why though other people she casually encounters probably do not. That ever-present reminder of the danger she is in really ratchets up the tension. (And if you’re like me, you’ll ask yourself, “Why am I so worried about that dog?” Surely I should be more worried about the human characters!)

And even though the movie has more characters in play than Avengers: Infinity War, Viola Davis is the undisputed lead with enough showcased scenes for an actress of her talent to do Oscar-worthy work. She gives a captivating, commanding performance (as always).

Daniel Kaluuya is also brilliant. If he had more screentime, he’d be a natural choice to win Best Supporting Actor. Even as is, he’s deserving of a nomination. (It’s just too bad that he disappears for such a long stretch in the middle.)

Elizabeth Debicki is a standout, too. I remember saying to myself, “Who is this person cast as Jordan Baker?” and then seeing The Great Gatsby and realizing they’d found the perfect Jordan Baker. I like Debicki in general, and here she has one of the meatiest supporting roles. All of the characters grow a bit (arguably), but Debicki’s Alice is the most dynamic and watching her story arc is very satisfying.

You know who else gives a great performance?  Robert Duvall? And I didn’t even know he was in this movie! Afterwards I joked to my husband, “You know, that Robert Duvall has really got something. I think he could have a great career in motion pictures!”

The entire cast is good. I love Colin Farrell and find him a welcome addition to any movie. Michelle Rodriguez and Cynthio Erivo really made me care about their characters, and I also liked Jacki Weaver, Garret Dillahunt, Lukas Haas, Kevin J. O’Connor, and especially John Michael Hill in smaller roles.

Best Scene:
The opening scene–the passionate kiss that jumps jarringly to breathtaking crime–is basically a metaphor for Veronica and Harry’s entire relationship in all its tortured complexity. This opening sets the tone and reveals the focus of the entire film.  And it’s so exciting!

Another fabulous scene is the threat to the dog (well played by Brian Tyree Henry) because we think, “Oh my gosh! She is so bereft! She has NOTHING but that dog!!! Please, please have pity! Do not hurt that dog! She has NOTHING else! NOOOOO!”

Best Action Sequence:
Honestly the best scene of the film is also an action sequence of sorts. Daniel Kaluuya’s character is angry with two of his associates and asks them to perform a rap. This sequence is spellbinding, terrifying, and exhilarating. In fact it was the highlight of Widows for me and belongs on a list I’m compiling of greatest movie scenes of 2018.

Best Scene Visually:
I love the ways actual windows become literal windows into the past, and I love how often we see Davis herself reflected in various surfaces.

All the lurking eyes are a delicious delight, too.  So often in the corner of the screen, we see a set of eyes, lurking, watching, waiting, but it’s not always the same eyes, so we have to be on our guard.

Best probably is the scene in Colin Farrell’s car. First we hear him ranting, then we become aware of the driver.

Also, Viola Davis also has the best clothes in this film. Every outfit is so flattering, dramatic without being showy.

Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Viola Davis:
Nominating Viola Davis for an Oscar is never a bad decision. If she didn’t have to share the movie with seventy-thousand other people, I’d like her chances a bit better. I mean, we have Glenn Close and two other actors, Lady Gaga and two other actors, Melissa McCarthy and one other actor, and then Viola Davis and what sometimes feels like the entire city of Chicago. Plus a cute dog.

Davis does definitely make the most of the part, though. In fact, I’d say certain elements of the story could seem a bit like shark-jumping soap opera except that Davis brings such gravitas to the character. She also does a great job of showing the audience the turbulent emotional core of a woman who always presents herself as strong and stoic to others.

We really experience Veronica’s grief. (Granted the director probably deserves some credit here, too. We are constantly reminded of what she lost, the aching pain of that absence.) What’s nice is that we think we understand, then discover more and more about her pain as the story goes on. The slow reveal of the interior state of such an emotionally closed character is something that not just any actress could pull off.

Davis is often magnificent in non-verbal moments, silent stares, quiet tears, a primal scream.

I particularly like the scene when she brings her dog to someone’s house, then asks, “Can I put my dog down?”

Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Elizabeth Debicki:
Elizabeth Debicki is one of the few people in the movie who gets a moment of (almost) comedy. Her spur-of-the-moment decision to pose as a Russian mail-order-bride is extremely charming. Watching her Alice gain confidence in herself as she realizes how capable she is, honestly, is one of the movie’s rare joys.

Most Oscar-Worthy Moment, Daniel Kaluuya:
What is it with bowling alleys? You know all those weird clip packages the Oscars always insist on showing? (“This year we’re giving out half the awards during the commercials. Now please enjoy another fifteen clip packages.”) Somebody needs to cut together a montage of bizarre cinematic scenes in bowling alleys. (Maybe they already have!) There are so many. And here’s another one.

Daniel Kaluuya’s sadistic trip down the lane is the most Oscar-worthy thing to happen in a bowling alley since Daniel Day-Lewis drank Paul Dano’s milkshake.

Up until this time, I really enjoyed Kaluuya’s performance. When he lay down in the lane, I thought, “Yeah, this could win an Oscar.” Whether he gets a nomination or not, Kaluuya helps create an iconic character to enrich his filmography.

I actually think Kaluuya has a decent shot of getting nominated for Best Supporting Actor.

The Negatives:
If anything, the problem with Widows is not that it isn’t saying enough, but that it’s trying to say too much. The thing is, it has two thousand characters, and they’re all constantly doing stuff.  Some people are trying to get out of crime.  Other people are trying to get into crime.  Still others are trying to graduate from crime to politics.  Viola Davis is assigning jobs at random to everybody.  A lot is happening. Perhaps a bit of paring down would have made the movie’s message more effective (or at least easier to identify).  (The Michelle Rodriguez storyline, in particular, just sort of gets lost in the shuffle.)

Honestly, I got a lot out of this frenzied muddle. I even thought, “Well, yes, this gives us a real sense of why doing anything is so difficult because you never start fresh. Everything is already going on when you try to jump in.” Industries like organized crime and politics must be so dizzying and overwhelming to newcomers. This sensation of too much going on worked for me, but I can see that some viewers might find the chaos off-putting.

At times, too, I noticed the narrative tension slackening. While never actually boring, Widows is definitely more engaging at some moments than at others. So while I do think its themes and content are Oscar worthy, I could understand if somebody thought this movie simply wasn’t good enough to win an Academy Award. I was shocked to come home and discover the movie is only two hours and nine minutes long. It feels more like nine, two!

My husband has been way more excited for this movie. Of course, I wanted to see it because I’m obsessed with trying to figure out the Oscars. But the trailer really had him hooked. Then he initially found the movie kind of disappointing, slow and hard to follow.  Normally he has no trouble following complicated film plots (even though he is hard of hearing.  In fact, the last time I remember hearing that complaint from him, we were trying to figure out Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy).