History’s biggest tragedies often remain irrational, even when you know the whole story.
Directed by Mike Ott, McVeigh follows Timothy McVeigh (Alfie Allen), an army veteran with an axe to grind. After the Waco siege, McVeigh is seething with rage against a government that he believes has failed the system. Partnering with Terry Nichols (Brett Gelman), McVeigh begins a fall from grace that leads to the deadliest acts of domestic terrorism in American history.
In many ways, McVeigh is a chilling examination of a heart of darkness. As he follows Timothy McVeigh’s journey towards the Oklahoma City Bombing, Ott rarely takes the camera off his subject, even as he’s immersed in shadows and filtered lighting. Whether it’s the darkness of the woods or the bleeding glow of his home, each scene is meant to feel as though we are stepping into a back alley. Understandably so, this is as bleak a depiction of the world as one can see. Light is fleeting and hope is rare.
Even so, in an interesting decision, Ott never lets us get into McVeigh’s mind. By keeping him at a distance, we merely watch as he falls further and further down the rabbit hole towards destruction. With a steel glare, Allen plays him as an almost impenetrable fortress. Even in moments with his potential love interest, we can never truly get an indication how to feel about this man. He is neither empathetic nor detestable. In some moments, he seems like a lost puppy. In others, cool and calculating the death of thousands.
But the point of McVeigh isn’t to make you love him or hate him.
Instead, Ott wants to leave us with as many questions as we have answers. Although one of the darkest moments in recent American history unfolds before us, we still aren’t entirely sure how we got there when the credits rolled. This isn’t meant to be a criticism. Rather, it’s an acknowledgement that, sometimes, we simply don’t know how these things can happen.
Yes, McVeigh was an army veteran who was struggling. Yes, he felt abandoned by the country that he served, especially in the wake of the events of Waco, Texas. And, yes, his mind was being poisoned by those around him. But, somehow, the film still feels like he makes a leap towards instigating homegrown terrorism.
And we’re left wondering how.
This is the sort of film that simply shows you the face of evil within the world yet without rationale. We watch as McVeigh lives a life (mostly) disconnected from others and then… tragedy. In fact, the deepest moral questions stem from those around him. Characters both real (Terry Nichols) and fictional (Ashley Benson’s Cindy) are all forced to decide whether or not they can justifiably stand by McVeigh’s side. (And some are willing to stay longer than others.) These are characters that must all choose between humanity and hatred. For some, vengeance feels justifiable. It ‘sends a message’. Upsets the system. For others, it’s not the way.
It’s important to note that Ott’s grand finale includes actually footage of the aftermath of Oklahoma City. Homes are destroyed and families are left broken. Devastation is everywhere. (For some viewers, it’s possible that that could be an emotional trigger.) However, this is also the way that he reminds us all of the pain of the moment. We know that McVeigh is meant to make us feel uncomfortable but Ott drives the point home with reality.
In the end, it’s hard to say that McVeigh is a particularly likeable film. But, again, that’s exactly the point of the piece. Everyone’s performances are solid across the board and Ott directs the film with a steady hand. Even so, this is one of those moments in history when knowing the ending leaves us yearning for answers. We know the what, how and the who. But Ott wisely refuses to give us the ‘why’, even if it leaves us in the dark.
McVeigh is available on VOD/Digital on Friday, March 21st, 2025.
