‘Civil War’ Review: Garland’s bold and cynical open letter to America
The comparisons between photographers and soldiers are well known. A favorable analogy amongst scholars of film and media, most notably in Susan Sontag’s On Photography where she remarks that photographers are like hunters who have “Hasselblads instead of Winchesters; instead of looking through a telescopic sight to aim a rifle, they look through a viewfinder to frame a picture” (Sontag 1977, p. 15). This metaphor extends through Alex Garland’s biggest and most arguably ambitious film to date: ‘Civil War.’
Sold as a rag-tag found family road trip story, we follow a group of photojournalists as they make their way from New York City to D.C. in the midst of a modern day American civil war. The specificities on the war’s origins are never made clear beyond a few precious lines of exposition: A president was elected who disbanded the FBI and presidential term limits, the United States economy tanked leaving the U.S. dollar worthless, and the Western Forces (lead by the seceded states of Florida and California) are fighting to take control over D.C. By the time the film begins, every character has already come to terms with this reality. Now it’s about trying to survive in it.
The journalists, Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), Joel (Wagner Moura), Sammy (Stephen McKinley), and spearheaded by Lee Miller (Kristen Dunst) spend the duration of their travels obsessed with “shooting” the subjects they encounter and constantly seeking out conflict to “capture” the perfect photograph. It’s hard to imagine this predatory language surrounding photography is lost on Garland — the filmmaker behind ‘Ex Machina’ and ‘Men’ is no stranger to a heavy-handed metaphor. In this case, it works as a signifier to suggest that our journalist protagonists are not blameless in this story. Instead, put bluntly, they are adrenaline junkies — sacrificing personal safety to be a fly on the wall in bursts of guerrilla warfare with whatever group of gunslinging “Americans” will bring them along. These journalists aren’t unlike Antlers Holst, the camera-weilding cinematographer from Jordan Peele’s Nope. A man doomed to sacrifice everything to say he captured the spectacle.
That isn’t to say that Lee and her gang’s work is in vain (although it is never clear how they actually publish their documentations) or that this “caution to the wind” mentality can endure. Sammy is an all-but retired New York Times journalist who is just as happy to stay in the car instead of on the ground. Lee, who already is jaded towards the efficacy of her profession, grows increasingly traumatized by the human violence and destruction that she has documented over the years. Garland shows the mental state of war journalists throughout a full life — to excel at the job, you must be desensitized to death and stimulated by danger; however, it is impossible to maintain this lifestyle forever.
As for the overarching civil war, Garland’s interests are very clear. He finds little intellectual and creative interest in casting blame. Rather, he parses through the kinds of values that we hold onto and identities that we brandish in the midst of chaos. Between the blurred lines of a war zone, your “side” is simply one of survival. Shooting at the person shooting back at you — a lesson clearly taught in a winter wonderland-themed shootout sequence with a mystery attacker.
That being said, ‘Civil War’ is far from politically neutral. It is an incomplete or even purposefully ignorant reading of the film to blame Garland for “both sides-ing” American politics. Yes, he uncomfortably reflects on the evil capable in all people no matter the party, faction, or hometown. However, his most condemning criticism is reserved for what we can only assume is a Trump-esque neo-fascist president and his like-minded supporters. In one of the film’s most heart-pounding scenes, Jesse Plemmons (who, rightly, has been passed the Phillip Seymour Hoffman baton) plays a murderous yet calm-spoken anarchist who dons unofficial army camo and an assault rifle. As a final touch, he sports some bright red, plastic sunglasses which is practically one amateur wardrobe department choice away from being a MAGA hat. The whole ensemble might as well have been pulled from the January 6th fashion line.
A film any more obvious with its message would fall into the same pandering and uninspired league as ‘Don’t Look Up’ — Adam McKay’s 2021 apocalyptic speculative (if not, declarative) fiction on the fate of the United States (and planet) from of climate change. Garland swiftly sidesteps those pitfalls, weaving in measured political references while granting his audience enough intellectual credit to draw the right conclusions.
A stronger and much more interesting criticism would be debating the ethics of the film’s inherent entertainment and marketability. The film’s structure never strays from the key tenants of any stereotypical road trip story. The D.C. action set-pieces rival those of ‘White House Down’ — a now classic action blockbuster. The films’ genre-bending score gives enough emotional reprieve to not get an audience too down. And the active pursual of playing the film in IMAX theaters around the world only affirm the film’s goals to achieve spectacle. While these are all elements that land successfully, it is worth questioning whether increased commercial appeal decreases the film’s impact. Is the film’s ultimate warning of “Do anything possible to prevent this fate” covered up by silky action montages to a De La Sol song? Maybe a bit. But subconscious enlightenment through entertainment is cinema’s bread and butter.
Like ‘Nope’ for Jordan Peele, ‘Civil War’ is the product of a brilliant filmmaker’s first shot at an original big budget IMAX genre film. One that preserves the beautiful framing and musically choreographed sequences that are a testament to Alex Garland’s signature style and scales it up to an audience who were probably just expecting to see another ‘White House Down.’
