I watched Alex Garland’s Civil War and thought it was a great film with a lot to say. But it wasn’t the film I expected it to be. And I think this is why it gets mixed reviews.
It’s Not About the War
The setting screams political thriller. California and Texas have formed a secessionist “Western Alliance” (which is so obviously absurd it has to be the point). There’s a president who may or may not be a fascist. Tanks in the streets. But I didn’t feel the film was really about any of that. For me, it’s about witnessing. About voyeurism. About what it means to document violence, and what it means to consume it.
This is examined through the war reporter characters, primarily Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and Jessie (Cailee Spaeny). They are “press”, and part of the film is a character study of how human beings cope with the objective disconnection that is needed for that kind of work. You can watch it purely on that level and it works. But the little flourishes, especially the final shots, suggest something more uncomfortable. They position the viewer as the press photographer. The violence is being captured for us. We are the ones who want it.
There’s a great line when they’re driving along the interstate, past cars piled up and burnt out, and Joel (Wagner Moura) says “You’re going to want to see this.” He’s talking to Jessie. But he’s also talking to us. We do want to see this. We do think it’s cool. And there’s an implicit hint that this is part of the problem, part of the set of conditions that creates war in the first place. I think this makes people uncomfortable, and from reading reviews I think the discomfort often only registers subconsciously.
No Good Guys
Many reviewers seem to have expected a political film with clear “good guys” and “bad guys”. Civil War doesn’t provide that. This is one of its strongest points.
We are often not sure which “side” anyone is on. There’s a great scene with two snipers in what I can only describe as “Christmas land” that brings this home. They’re firing at someone. Joel asks who they’re firing at. They don’t know. We don’t know. This is war.
Uniforms interchange throughout the film. The press accompanies different sides without really asking the question. In one sequence, a group that appear to be the Western Alliance have a guy shot dead, then shoot a bleeding uniformed man in a building, hood and march out three soldiers, who are gunned down by machine gun. Whose side were they on? Doesn’t matter. That’s the point.
In the blurb there’s briefing chat about the president being a fascist, but I didn’t really see that borne out in the film itself. It feels more like projection. Each side seems like they could be the “fascists”. Garland is deliberately withholding the clear sides we’re used to, and it bothers people.
“What Kind of American Are You?”
I should mention Jesse Plemons. His single scene is probably the bit everyone talks about afterwards. He plays an unnamed soldier standing by a mass grave, wearing stolen red sunglasses, asking captives where they’re from. “What kind of American are you?” It’s a question with no safe answer in a country torn in half. He has already decided what he’ll do based on the response. The interrogation isn’t an investigation. It’s a justification.
What makes it so effective is the casualness. He’s calm. Sniffling. Possibly on something. You don’t know what side he’s on, or whether there’s any logic to it beyond a man with a gun deciding who counts as people.
The Adrenaline
Within the role of the war reporter, especially Joel, there’s a sharp observation about certain people’s need for adrenaline. There’s a scene where he races cars through dangerous territory, whooping, alive. This isn’t framed as a response to trauma or a haunted past. It’s simpler than that. Some people need danger because it makes them feel alive. It’s what gets them out of bed and into the field when any sane person would stay home.
The film is fairly honest about this. It suggests that this drive, while selfish in origin, has a net benefit for humanity. Someone has to go to the places nobody wants to go and bring back what they find. But it’s not a selfless drive, and Garland doesn’t pretend it is. Joel isn’t saving the world. He’s feeding something in himself. It just so happens that the feeding produces something the rest of us need.
The Ending
I won’t spoil the specifics, but the ending does something clever with everything the film has set up. Lee takes the bullet. Jessie gets the shot. The student becomes the photographer. The cost is clear.
Having read a fair amount of history, I think this is one of the most realistic war films ever made. Not in the pyrotechnics, but in the murky morality, the randomness, the way ideology dissolves into survival and tribalism. It’s not comfortable viewing. It shouldn’t be.
[Minor AI assistance in tidying up from rough notes – original crappy ideas all mine.]
Robotic Ape 