A24 film : Civil War (2024)
Kirsten Dunst
Credit: Murray Close
Courtesy of A24
Film Review of A24’s Civil War (2024)
Directed by Alex Garland
Written by Trip Avis
On The Late Show, Stephen Colbert asked celebrated journalist Christiane Amanpour: “Is journalism worth dying for?” Amanpour mused that it is a quest for truth, “[...] to be people’s eyes and ears on the ground,” despite the obvious dire risks to one’s body, mind, and soul. This loaded double-barrel question of morality and mortality also appears to be on the mind of Alex Garland, the wünderkind-novelist-turned-auteur behind the new A24 dystopian war drama Civil War (2024). Seasoned star Kirsten Dunst and newcomer Cailee Spaeny, who both moonlight as Sofia Coppola muses, lead an ensemble cast that includes Wagner Moura, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Nick Offerman, and a scene-stealing Jesse Plemons. The film centers on a quadfecta of photojournalists on a tense odyssey across the war-torn Eastern Seaboard to Washington, D.C. They seek to capture the last real story in this foregone conclusion of American internal warfare: the fall of a dictatorial regime at the hands of the Western Forces, a decidedly white knight allegiance of unlikely allies: conservative Texas and liberal California.
Ambiguity is an overarching theme throughout Garland’s sharp yet bewildering film; it looms over each situation like a gray specter, forcing the audience to confront their moral perspectives. In most films, the “good guy” vs. “bad guy” schema is readily apparent, almost as clear as a crude John Wayne white vs. black cowboy hat dynamic. In Civil War, we only think we know who to root for; the audience is given essential background points: a dictatorial U.S. president (played by an almost unrecognizable Nick Offerman) who is going the F.D.R. route by exceeding the typical two-term limit. However, that is where comparisons between Offerman’s unnamed president and the celebrated second Roosevelt end. It is revealed off-hand that the president had dismantled the FBI before the film's events. While the bulk of his actions are not implicitly shown, it is suggested that he is increasingly unhinged and power-hungry, if not deluded. In the opening shot, we see Offerman preparing a speech to assure the American people that his side is winning; it looks more like he is trying to convince himself.
Cailee Spaeny
Credit: Murray Close
Courtesy of A24
The sparring regimes are not the only parties touched by ambiguity; the photojournalist protagonists also uneasily stride into that moral gray area. As members of the press, they are persona non grata to Offerman’s regime, with orders to be shot on sight. We see them move seamlessly with the plainclothes combatants, remoras with press vests gloamed to a shark’s underbelly. In one scene, Spaeny’s character sets up to capture a shot of American soldiers being summarily executed by the civilian militants. Despite their loyalty to an oppressive regime, it is still jarring to see the blindfolded men in U.S. uniforms killed by their fellow citizens. Perhaps Garland was banking on that discomfort.
While first and foremost a commentary on the modern political climate and a cautionary tale to what could happen if we allow our growing divisions to get the better of us, Civil War is a love letter to photojournalism and war photography; there are several references to the field. Spaeny’s neophyte Jessie Cullen quips to Dunst’s Lee Smith, saying she shares a name with her hero, famed war photographer Lee Miller—sheepishly amending her statement to include Smith among her heroes. It is also revealed that Smith was the youngest inductee to the photographic cooperative Magnum Photos and that their team works for Reuters. While these inclusions mean nothing to the layperson filmgoer, they are a friendly reminder for those in the photography world that Garland notices and respects them.
(L-R) Cailee Spaeny, Kirsten Dunst
Credit: Courtesy of A24
Even for a war thriller, the film can’t escape the arthouse trappings that have become an A24 staple. In one scene, a pair of snipers wear nail polish and hair dye, sharply contrasting their staid uniforms. In another, Plemons’s character, a deranged ultranationalist enjoying the fruits of discord provided by this fictional modern civil war in a Purge-like fashion, dons rose-colored glasses with his camo army fatigues. While not explicitly commented on, this aesthetic choice feels intentional. In this new, war-ravaged America, where xenophobia and racial division are increasingly normalized, he is free to act on his darkest desires. For some, it is a nightmarish situation; for him, this is an idealized world.
