Civil War
A24
Director Alex Garland returns to the director chair with Civil War - his alleged last feature film as a director for the foreseeable future - that sees itself set in the immediate future of America split into political differences and dictatorship, following a band of journalists who intend to drive through terror and unrest to find answers before everything around them begins to crumble. The first thing to note with Garland is that his directorial efforts have always touched on visceral nightmares and ideas of questioning dynamics and scenarios that are never immediate but in touching distance to reality in Ex_Machina, Annihilation and Devs that said nightmares burn devilishly bright the closer mankind get to questionable situations. Garland’s recent efforts in Men and now Civil War take a different route of questioning in discussions and circumstances that are based unequivocally within reality and the now. What is fundamentally clear is that Garland is unable to elicit or evoke any form of nuance or visceral quality with tones and thematics that are too close to home and down to earth, sadly reverting to on-the-nose, obvious details and dialogue that never evolves or furthers the conversation on said subject matter.
For the most part, Civil War is a well-crafted venture, both in technical achievement and in performance. For starts the sound design is impeccable, for every gunshot and explosion is felt in a feeling of utmost dread, fear and morality in that the dangers of this environment and political instability are as deadly as threatening to the characters as they are to the viewer. Garland evokes a constant sense of threat and unpredictability with said sound. Be it hard cuts to and from loud to soft in terms of explosive sound, the anxiety of the environment and theme are constantly met with fear. It’s an outstanding quality to reinforce the terror in moments, in which Civil War finds pause or mundanity with a gentle horrifying reminder (which is consistently referenced throughout) that this war isn’t going away.
Equally as effective are the performances of with Kirsten Dunst almost completing her unofficial depression trilogy with Coppola’s Virgin Suicides, Trier’s Melancholia and now Garland’s Civil War. The internal conflict Dunst manages to convey in external performance is nothing short of staggering. It’s almost as if a shadow is dragging her body to and from one terrifying environment to another with the reasoning a subjective sense of need is unknown, yet significant depth is provided to each feeling of a spiralling mind and slowly a body that follows. Caillee Spaeny and Wagner Moura provide differing perspectives and insights into the characters in this story. One is a glimmering reminder of what once was in excitement and desire for Dunst’s Lee Smith and the other is the junkie need and greed or a story in Moura’s Joel, as well as the oracle hindsight or the always fantastic Stephen McKinley Henderson, which showcases a diverse albeit singular connective tissue of getting the story no matter what it takes in body or blood.
The issue is that Garland - and the film itself, but more on that later - provides no depth or nuanced material for the characters or audience to walk away from and find further analysis and depth. Shockingly, Garland’s screenplay might just be the worst of the year in a dire representation of being one-note, idle and wholeheartedly dull. Each character is a separate, simplistic emotive representation of what it means to be a journalist, yet neither of the four characters evolves or evolves in material or expression. Like the feature itself what the audience sees, what Garland tells them or what is expressed is never subtle or obvious, as if it’s scared to cross a line or show characters who aren’t binary. It’s also to say that this result makes this whole thing so predictable and ordinary. It takes no risks aside from projecting a massive insecurity and haunting possibility of what may come in political discourse and action in the next US election, is that controversial or adapt for its depth to give a telling of possibility without questioning how and why the circumstance has come to fruition? Is that not naive and ignorant to showcase the highlights and not a substantive measure of how these things are a possibility, to begin with? It all just feels a little hyper-conscious with nothing to say and performative in its positioning. To further discuss this issue of predictable and obvious outcomes, with each character it becomes painfully obvious what direction they will take. Stephen McKinley Henderson is an old but wise character, so of course he plays the oracle who tells everyone what and how it will all happen leaving words for the rest of the characters to deal with in the final act. Dunst plays a mentally aged and emotionally unstable character, so of course she takes on the prodigal character in Spaeny and passes the torch on in more than one way. It’s all so painfully orchestrated without a sense of unpredictability and thus intrigue.
The biggest issue here in casting is the casting of Nick Offerman as the president, who ultimately bookends the feature with an integral albeit sidelined character. Now, it might not be a major deal to some but it is the casting of an actor with such notoriety as Offerman to essentially play a Trump-inspired character feels both empty and meaningless. This is a character - like the real thing - who is tearing down the level of democracy of their own financial and personal political agenda. It is without a doubt a heinous and utterly threading character, and Garland shockingly doesn’t seem to realise he’s subverting said character with faux outrage and undermined tone. Having said character off-screen would add a tremendous amount of threading weight to both the audience and character in that this villain is causing such violence and terror but is never shown or seen, eliciting internal fear of the unknown and the audience’s perspectives of who that person may be; be it republican or democrat, race, or gender. By consciously doing what it does it takes all fear and possibility out and puts a faux SNL depiction that undermines the very fear Civil War is trying to evoke.
Furthermore, these odd and strange choices of what Garland makes: why on earth he fixates on needle-dropping contemporary music in emotive moments may be the biggest sin of all. It loses so much momentum and emotional pause in moments of haunting silence, undercut for what are essentially sequences that undercut all intention. Issues not once but multiple times in incredibly important and rich sequences. Said instances only reinforce how thematically and tonally empty this whole thing sadly is. It’s truly hard work to find the thesis or abstract of Civil War from Garland. In a strange but banal intention and attempt to subvert the tone of its finale, Garland further loses the plot - quite literally - in the final few minutes of the whole piece. Narratively it arrives in the exact manner it has consistently and constantly said it would, it leaves nothing to chance or thought, again what is said and stated happens in a strait-laced direction. Yet, Garland attempts a last-ditch effort with a thematic coupe de tête of character to imply some sort of reveal or deep thought prognosis of a character retorting to animalistic and primal feelings to push everything away to get that one shot. In any other context, it might work but the conviction is so left-field, unwarranted and lacking that it creates a feeling of being patronising and condescending to the viewer. The technical manner in how said instance is crafted does evoke a sense of avant-garde grandiose with black and white photography that is a snapshot of the moment which takes the wind and air out of the viewer, only to whisk the atmosphere and emotional expression away narratively to the next thing in immediate response. It never hits, all that attempted to build up and to throw it away (undoubtedly while consciously implanted) is at a dissonance to the relationship the viewer has seen develop on screen.
Said faux reveals are never provoking, rich or powerful enough to suggest these feelings and thematic moments have any strength or power to work. As is, Civil War is a two-hour series of vignettes that showcase essentially the same feelings and thoughts of domestic terror and power imbalance, be it through a visual audible experience or a character telling the viewer in an obvious display of brutality and terrorism. Jesse Plemons will undoubtedly walk away from this (aside from Dunst) as the scene stealer but it’s an 8-minute scene that has to literally explain itself without a sense of nuance and is the first point of realisation that this whole thing isn’t well-shot either. Again, surprisingly inept when cinematographer Robin Hardy has shot all of his previous work with success yet here the visual prowess is fleeting and poor. Before long, moments after the credits roll it becomes clear that with all the controversy, the commercial prowess, and the loud and advantageous narrative: nothing sticks. The viewer is left with nothing to dissect, infer, debate or analyse. Everything that is stated is as clear as day and socially it has nothing to say.
Alex Garland, throughout his career, has explored socially anxious themes with visceral layers in abstracts that are just close enough to send shivers down viewers’ spines. Moving to more on the nose and imminent procedural sin Men and now Civil War, he strangely fails to evoke anything of meaning, presumably out of worry or inept elevation of material to presume to do so would undermine the cultural and socially significant themes of said subjects? Whatever it is, the last two results have been dire and often tedious avenues of obvious and direct conversations without much meaning or purpose. While Civil War will have its champions and detracts, it is a shame - like the subject of the film itself - an argument and debate is ensuing about what the context is and not really about what matters which is the film itself. Of which is madly disappointing and underwhelming.
