Alex Garland’s latest film Civil War opens with an address from the US president (Nick Offerman) to the nation, reassuring his citizens that the rebel forces are close to defeat and the war will soon be over. However, the speech is intercut with images that tell a different story: explosions, fierce battles, government under siege. Rather than offering reassurance, the president looks frail and exposed.
This beginning, and the setting in the US, at a time when the country is increasingly polarised, might lead the audience to assume we’re about to watch a gung-ho war film depicting an epic battle between good and evil. In fact, many initial reviewers did make that assumption, and some were disappointed that there is no exploration of the politics behind the conflict.
But Civil War is a different sort of film altogether. Garland is less interested in the causes of the war and more in the nature of war reporting – its principles, purpose and the impact it has on the journalists involved. An approach that, for me, made for a much more thoughtful and satisfying story and one that felt profoundly anti-war.
The journalists in question come together when renowned war photographer Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and her long-time collaborator Joel (Wagner Moura) decide to take a dangerous road trip to Washington DC to interview the president. The risks of the journey are heightened when Lee’s ageing and sick mentor, Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) persuades them to take him as far as the Charlottesville frontline, and Joel invites the inexperienced Jessie (Cailee Spaeny) to come along too.
As they journey south, the quartet encounter gun battles, see unspeakable acts of cruelty and find themselves under fire. At first, the naïve Jessie freezes in key moments, transfixed with fear and guilt at not being able to help people. Initially, Lee is contemptuous, but gradually she takes the younger woman under her wing. She shows her how to improve her craft, reminding her the job is to get ‘the shot’ regardless of danger or morality. It is not up to them to pass judgement, but to let the photograph speak for itself.
This moral code seems absolute – when Jessie asks Lee if she would take a picture of her dead body, the answer is: yes, of course. And yet, for all Lee’s tough talk, we see her traumatised by flashbacks of the horrors of previous conflicts and the people she didn’t save.
Each terrifying incident ratchets up the tension until they meet a psychopathic soldier (Jesse Plemons) covering up a horrific war crime. The soldier’s lack of mercy and enjoyment of casual killing makes for a chilling scene which exposes just how vulnerable the journalists are, and how easily such crimes are committed. It is impossible to watch without thinking of US atrocities in Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq, and Israel’s in Gaza today.
By the film’s conclusion, all four characters have been changed by their journey – Jessie has become battle hardened; Joel, more cynical; Sammy has found a purpose; Lee, her humanity – and we, as an audience, have had an insight into the lives of journalists on the front line. It’s an unsettling experience that asks questions of us and them.
Is it right to be so neutral that you don’t question the morality of different armed forces? Should you intervene to save a life instead of getting ‘the shot’? Are you wrong to not help someone if it means you escape unharmed? Does the image you take of a violent death ensure the truth is told or is it merely gratuitous?
Garland doesn’t give us any easy answers to these questions but simply shows us an honest vision of the brutality and corruption of war and the lives of the people who cover it. Whether we think they are heroes showing the world the truth, as complicit as the soldiers they document, or somewhere in between, is a matter for us to decide.
Civil War is utterly believable and compelling from beginning to end. I can’t recommend it highly enough.