‘War’ Heroes
Alex Garland gets his groove back for a civil war thriller that’s not really about civil war.
Civil War
Director: Alex Garland • Writer: Alex Garland
Starring: Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Cailee Spaeny, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Nick Offerman
USA / UK • 1hr 49mins
Opens Hong Kong April 11 • IIB
Grade: A-
There are three things you have to know about Alex Garland’s Civil War going in. First: this is not a cautionary tale about the possible fallout of the forthcoming election in the US – the one where racist, misogynist, Islamophobic, anti-Semitic, LGBTQ+ hating, broke-ass Donald Trump could get elected president. Again. Though the knee-jerk reaction is understandable. People love nothing more than to judge films before they’ve seen them. Second: it’s intensely apolitical despite the, erm, civil war trappings. Given the state of the dis-union in the US right now, it does look like a massive provocation on Garland’s part; a way to bitchily drag the country for its mess and hit either too close to home or be perceived as an attack. Third: it’s a kick-ass road trip thriller.
But it is none of those, and you will not get confirmation bias here. Civil War is dystopian sci-fi, set in a near future America that has finally fractured into warring factions (most of them armed to the teeth, because ’Murica) and follows a little crew of wartime journalists covering the various rebel sects as they descend on Washington. As a thriller it slots in more snugly with Salvador, The Year of Living Dangerously and The Killing Fields than anything else. At its core, however, Civil War is a character drama about the state of journalism, the sanctity of a free press and the impact of moral agnosticism on the people who choose to keep us informed.
Garland shot to fame as the writer of 28 Days Later and Sunshine, and as a director when he made Oscar Isaac break out glorious disco moves in Ex Machina. He stumbled a bit with Men last year (just a bit), but here he’s on form. There’s a lot that’s familiar in Civil War – abandoned cars littering the highway, barren urban streets, friend-or-foe tension that comes with strangers – but there’s a daring opaqueness to the film, and Garland obviously doesn’t want to distract with narrative detours. Above all it grips you by the throat immediately and rarely loosens up.
Padawan and Jedi
We begin with the third-term (!) President of what’s left of those United States (Nick Offerman, sans beard) pumping himself up to address the nation(s) on TV, talking about a decisive victory against the secessionist Western Forces of Texas and California. Now, anyone who reads even headlines will know that Texas and California are the unlikeliest of allies, and it signals Garland’s aggressive removal of politics and “sides” from the story. That’s the most we ever learn about how this armed infighting started. Oh, and Florida’s acting up. It doesn’t really matter, because the story is about renowned, and jaded, war photographer Lee (Kirsten Dunst); her partner Joel (Wagner Moura, Elite Squad, Narcos), a writer numbed to recklessness; starry-eyed, hero-worshipping rookie Jessie (Cailee Spaeny, Priscilla); and Lee’s older, less mobile mentor Sammy (renowned That Guy, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Dune, Garlands’s Devs) on a harrowing 1,400-kilometre drive to DC to interview the radio silent President. It’s the assignment of a lifetime, and Lee and Joel are willing to confront state militias, guerrilla gangs and their own bad decisions to get it.
Garland sets up a conventional framework pronto. Lee and Jessie are clearly the master and apprentice; rivals but compatriots. Lee is afraid Jessie’s eagerness will get her – or worse all of them – killed and doesn’t want the job of training her replacement. Sammy is the true master, the guy that was on the front lines when he wasn’t welcome, a trailblazer who’s tired of this bullshit and who listens to his instincts. Garland tosses in little details that set the stage (like bargaining for gas with Canadian dollars) but the rest of the film examines who these people are. Sometimes they’re adrenaline junkies, sometimes they’re romantics serving a higher calling (Jessie is dedicated to 35mm film), sometimes they’re scared shitless.
It just so happens that Garland examines these people in a series of white-knuckle action set pieces, replete with war doc visuals and immersive camera work by his regular cinematographer Rob Hardy (Mission: Impossible - Fallout). That immersive vibe is helped along by a script that drops us into the middle of the action with no explanation of who’s who and what the issues are. These people are interesting because the cast goes all in, right down to the supporting players, like the always awesome Jesse Plemons in an uncredited, chilling turn as a soldier. Spaeny is the It Girl of the moment, and to her credit she makes Jessie’s irritating – and dangerous – newbie bullshit resonate. She isn’t the hardened veteran Lee and Joel are, violence still shakes her, and her deer-in-the-headlights befuddlement feels real. Moura plays Joel as that guy who’s good at his job but so deeply wounded by it he spends every spare minute baked or drunk off his ass, ideally both. But this is Dunst’s film start to finish, and she completely nails Lee’s steely exterior, the one that starts to crumble when all her war zone experience fails her when the war’s at home. It’s a quiet career-high performance that juggles confidence, low-key wisdom and growing unease, entirely lived-in and organic.
Those who and whats don’t matter because ultimately we’re watching the toll dispassionate documentation of the world at large finally takes on journalists and interrogating our collective growing disdain for the Fourth Estate. The vivid colours of the misleading bright blue sky, the orange flares of artillery fire and the red flames of burning countryside stand in stark contrast to the black and white above the fold photos that Lee and Jessie snap on their trip, the kind of photos that win (or lose) hearts and minds. If you don’t think of “Napalm Girl” or “Warsaw Ghetto Boy” at some point Garland really has dropped the ball. — DEK