“Civil War” Movie Betrays Characters & Fans! Shocking Political Compromises Revealed!

Filmmaker Alex Garland is on a mission to demonstrate that a movie about a contemporary American civil war can be created without delving into politics. He aims to accomplish this feat in an election year.

The intriguing question is: For what reason?

His latest cinematic piece, “Civil War,” premiered on Friday and tracks an unlikely team of journalists traveling from New York to Washington, D.C., while the insurgent “Western Forces” composed of California and Texas, encroach upon the capital. Two of these journalists, Lee (Kirsten Dunst), a renowned war photographer, and Joel (Wagner Moura), a writer, aspire to land the final interview and photograph of the incumbent U.S. president (Nick Offerman) before he is forcibly removed from power and assassinated.

Their journey is complicated by war zones, forcing them to take a winding path, where they witness the horrendous, often indiscriminate violence that has engulfed the nation during this internal strife.

The film is hard-hitting and Garland has stated that he created it to underscore the vital role of journalism: to remind us that our understanding of the world is largely based on journalists reporting and illustrating current events, even when their personal safety or mental wellness is jeopardized.

This is a commendable and crucial objective, especially in the context of our own era. However, “the Western Forces”? What is that about?

From the moment the “Civil War” trailer was released, many pointed out the difficulty in empathizing with the troubles of four individuals when one is preoccupied with imagining what situation, aside from perhaps an extraterrestrial invasion, would lead to an alliance between California and Texas and to the formation of a second separatist faction known as “the Florida Alliance.”

Especially a situation that pits these states against the president and, presumably, the remnants of the U.S. military.

I suppose those fighting on the president’s side are what’s left of the military; it’s not exactly spelled out.

There is much that remains ambiguous in “Civil War.” This is by design. Garland has no interest in analyzing why the Western Forces united to assault the White House beyond hinting at societal trends that could potentially trigger a modern civil war, such as racism, nationalism, isolationism, and indifference.

But societal trends don’t ignite a war; organized and adversarial armed forces do. We are never given insight into the root cause of the conflict, the political beliefs of the president, or any of his policies except for his reliance on authoritarian tactics: He has executed journalists, bombed American civilians, dissolved the FBI, and presumably overturned the Constitution, given his third term in office.

We also remain ignorant about what the Western Forces and the Florida Alliance aim to accomplish by overthrowing him – we presume they are advocating for democracy, but this could be merely optimistic speculation.

Rather, the film concentrates on the resolute character of the four main characters – the formidable Lee; her young, enthusiastic, and initially unwelcome apprentice, Jessie (Cailee Spaeny); thrill-seeking Joel; and Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson), the veteran correspondent who has witnessed it all.

They form a captivating group, brilliantly portrayed and bound together by the conviction that their duty is not to pass judgment on what they come across but to document it for the enlightenment of others.

Their commitment to “objectivity” is so complete that they seem disinterested in the context or significance of the clearly catastrophic sequence of events that have led to the current situation. There’s limited debate about what Joel intends to ask the president upon locating him or what such an interview would achieve beyond being his final one. (To be fair, the situation has deteriorated to the point where no media outlet seems concerned about exclusives or audience engagement; Lee and Joel are simply trying to document history.)

Despite witnessing one cataclysmic scene after another during their long car journey, none of our protagonists are spurred to reflect on moments when all this could have been averted or to contemplate the future of the nation: Do the Western Forces have a strategy beyond the president’s ousting? Is there a suitable vice president or speaker of the house ready to step in? Does Congress still exist? Who is commanding the Western Forces?

And how can the families of Lee and Jessie, as well as a salesgirl in a town the team passes through during their journey, continue to deny that “none of this is happening”?

“Civil War” is fundamentally a road film. Its tone is less apolitical – Garland is clearly against war – than it is post-political. When the group finds themselves in the middle of a battle at a Christmas village, they ask one of the soldiers they meet there, one with camouflage and vibrantly colored hair, what’s happening.

Someone is firing at us, he responds. And that’s all there is to it.

The movie endeavors to maintain the audience within the characters’ travel bubble – despite their journalistic mission, they seem too fatigued and overwhelmed to ponder anything beyond the upcoming potential hazards. However, as one horrifying sight succeeds another, it feels negligent not to question, and continue questioning, what exactly transpired.

And why is nobody discussing it?

Garland’s decision to withhold explanations soon seems less like an artistic decision and more like an ill-advised evasion, similar to Nikki Haley’s initial refusal to acknowledge slavery as the cause of the actual Civil War. This is especially true given the film’s imagery, which echoes recent events, such as the Jan. 6, 2021, attack on the Capitol.

Fascist undercurrents, both on the right and the left, have been present in America long before the emergence of the MAGA movement. But in the aftermath of Jan. 6, and with Trump’s incendiary rhetoric once again in the spotlight as he campaigns for a return to the presidency, it’s impossible not to perceive “Civil War” as a cinematic depiction of what could unfold if Trump is successful.

In this context, it’s worth pointing out that the defenders of Trump’s authoritarian leanings have a clear set of ideologies. (The film’s most chilling scene, a reflection of the celebration of “real Americans” favored by right-wing Republicans, is presented as an independent act, possibly disconnected from what’s transpiring in the corridors of power or on the front lines. In reality, the divisive hostility of white supremacy has a clearly identifiable political base.)

Forcing the very real political divisions that afflict this nation into nebulous subtext doesn’t even support the purported pro-journalism theme of “Civil War.”

In trying to keep his movie “above” the current political turmoil, Garland flirts with the both-sides-ism that many journalists are expected (or choose) to adopt in an effort to demonstrate impartiality. But the arbitrary demand for “balance” should never be conflated with objectivity, which necessitates, among other things, an understanding that not all things are equal in significance, relevance, or, if it comes down to it, culpability.

The fact that we are still grappling with the actual Civil War in many ways, including recent debates over the portrayal of slavery, the Confederacy, and war itself in classrooms, history books, and civic life, underscores the importance of understanding how events, ideologies, and individuals triggered that cataclysm – or any cataclysm. By implying instead that anything (or nothing) could lead to a nation’s collapse, the destruction of its most iconic monuments, and the forceful removal of the president, “Civil War” does a disservice to its audience, and to the very individuals it seeks to commend.

Ignorance is not synonymous with objectivity either.