This is a confounding but worthwhile picture. It tries to be many things. A heist caper. A feminist tract. A racial observance. A cynical statement on corruption. A twist flick. It fails to be complete in any of these pursuits, but that doesn’t make it unenjoyable, just vexing.
Steve McQueen (Shame, Twelve Years of Slave) brings his meditative touch to Chicago, where the widows of a group of professional criminals (think the gang in Heat; in fact, the widows pick up a driver on the fly just like in that flick) must pick up where their flawed husbands have left off. Their pursuit is intertwined with romantic, political, and familial entanglements.
There’s a lot here, but eventually, the film falters because it takes on way too much. This is a mini-series sized saga, and given how well McQueen does with various scenes, you’re eventually frustrated at the truncated resolutions. Still, the performances are stellar. In particular, Viola Davis, even saddled with an ever-present and ridiculous West Highland White Terrier, is penetrating, and as villains go, Daniel Kaluuya (Get Out) is a top ten.