Film Review: ‘Civil War’ is a Deeply Upsetting Yet Undeniably Effective and Visceral Experience From Alex Garland

Walking out of Civil War, I really wasn’t sure where I stood on the film. I knew that it was deeply upsetting, by design, and that it was meant to leave you grappling with its message. The movie takes many of the beats that we’ve seen played out in war dramas of yore, but splayed out on American cities and streets. Thinking about what that means, well, it upsets and distresses you. That, however, is the power of this work, and if it took a bit to recover from, just means that it’s doing its job. Rarely letting up but never conforming to the requirements of genre, this is, in some ways, a one of a kind picture. Consider it A24’s take on the action blockbuster, with ideas over set pieces.

Civil War is a threat, a warning, and still somehow also mainstream entertainment. How filmmaker Alex Garland manages to pull that off is some feat. To call it apolitical is a misnomer, since there is clearly politics at play (the President in the film is, in Garland’s own words at our post-screening Q&A, a fascist), but you’ll never hear Democrats, Republicans, or anything like that mentioned. The flick also never states why a civil war has come to America, since every character would already know it as a fact of life. You’re dropped in and just have to deal with it. It’s a credit to Garland’s vision that when the end credits roll, your heart is still racing, your emotions are fraught, and you’re terrified of what you just saw coming to pass in our own lives.

We meet veteran war photographer Lee Smith (Kirsten Dunst) in her New York hotel room, watching the President of the United States (Nick Offerman) deliver an address. He’s hailing victories against the so called insurrectionists of the Western Forces. He also mentions the Florida Alliance, as well as one between California and Texas. It only takes the look on her face, as well as his delivery, to know that the nation has crumbled. Lee and her journalist partner Joel (Wagner Moura) have it on good intelligence that the Loyalist States have lost, that the Western Forces are preparing to invade Washington, and that the President’s days are numbered. They plan to get to DC before that and interview/photograph him.

Joining them on their trip south is a veteran New York Times writer in Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) and an aspiring photographer in Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), who looks up to Lee. She doesn’t want her on the trip, but acquiesces to Joel, who didn’t want the older Sammy slowing them down. As they drive, we see what’s become of America, and it isn’t pretty. Embedded with the military along the way, Jessie discovers the horror of war, cracks begin to form in Lee’s tough exterior, and they all wonder what this is all for. The answers prove elusive, though danger and death lurk alongside them at all times. Then, there’s a sequence with Lee and company embedding with the Western Forces as the rebels take the White House that will leave you breathless, shocked, and probably angry. War is hell.

Kirsten Dunst gives a gritty and intense performance playing the sort of jaded war photographer we’ve seen in many a lesser film before. Here however, she’s showing eventual cracks in the armor, while also having a modern sensibility that we rarely get to see in war pictures. Dunst is our lead, but we spend nearly as much time with Wagner Moura and Cailee Spaeny. Stephen McKinley Henderson has a little less physically to do, but provides wisdom and grounds things with his age. Moura is the most gung ho of the lot, at least until he finds his breaking point, while Spaeny has to grow up in a hurry. One impetuous decision of hers has major consequences. They all have a bond and shorthand that grows as the film progresses, making up for some thin characterizations. The setting and the war are the central characters, in a way. Aside from a Nick Offerman cameo as the President, essentially, the supporting cast includes Karl Glusman, Sonoya Mizuno, and an uncredited Jesse Plemons, who proves utterly terrifying in his one scene showcase.

Writer/director Alex Garland raises the scale and raises the stakes here in a way he’s never done before. Ex Machina, Annihilation, and Men have only started to prepare you for this one. It only looks more traditional, but by the time you get to the relentless final section, involving an assault on nothing less than the White House, you know you’re in the midst of something very different. Even earlier on, so much of the imagery is directly what we’d see in a flick centered on photographers in a third world country. That it’s New York, Washington, D.C., and other American spots only lands his message even more firmly. Garland has never been angrier than this, but he somehow channels it in such a direct way, you’re on his wavelength from the start. The abruptness of the ending, well, it just fits where we leave the story. It’s up to you to figure out what happens next, just like it’s up to us from preventing this story from ever coming true in real life.

Civil War is not an easy film to describe, but it’s one that demands discussion. The movie is an event in that sense, as it’s impossible not to want to talk about it. The fact that it feels incredibly timely and urgent is sad, but reflects where we are. I initially was fairly sure I never wanted to see this film again, but now, I’m not so sure. Maybe we all need to see it, just to embed in our skulls what we run the risk of inviting into our existence. If the movie becomes prescient, well, we’re doomed. If it winds up being pure fiction and just a comment on where we might have been headed, then it was an important voice. It’s up to us to decide in the months to come. I for one know where I stand, and it’s not wanting to be a character in our version of Civil War.

SCORE: ★★★1/2