Latest posts by Jesse (see all)
- The SportsAlcohol.com Podcast: Black Christmas Through the Years - December 12, 2019
- The SportsAlcohol.com Podcast: Albums of 1999 – Midnite Vultures by Beck - December 10, 2019
- Forget Widescreen: THE REPORT, WAVES, and this fall’s aspect ratio status symbols - November 15, 2019
In the Saturday Night Live-based comedy MacGruber, Will Forte’s would-be action her assembles a kickass team of he-men during a stirring montage, packs them into a truck for a mission, and accidentally blows them all to hell. That’s not exactly what happens at the opening of Steve McQueen’s Widows, and probably drawing the comparison is a little bit insulting. But hear me out: McQueen dispatches an entire B-movie’s worth of tough guys with similar (if non-comic) efficiency, and precision-cut style. He toggles between a man and wife nuzzling in bed together and a brutal robbery turned car chase turned armed showdown. Back and forth it goes, quiet and loud, until the crew (including Liam Neeson and Jon Bernthal) is consumed in an explosion and, in the final pre-title image, the pillow next to Veronica (Viola Davis) lingers, empty. Her husband Harry (Neeson) isn’t coming back.
Continue reading Widows cooks like a heist picture and sprawls like an epic drama