Civil War: Alex Garland’s film avoids politics to focus on spectacle

Civil War does not tell a civil war story: it shows how it is photographed

Civil War is an action movie with a warning label. Released in 2024 during the US electoral cycle, it depicts a new American civil war where Texas and California join forces to overthrow the federal government. On paper, it is incendiary material. In practice, no one explains why they fight.

What happens in Civil War: from New York to the White House

The plot is a road alucinación. Four journalists cross the country from New York to Washington D.C. because the direct route is cut off, and along the way they encounter war: checkpoints, militias, and casualties within their own group, including the death of some members. The film slips in loose details—a third term for the president to be deposed, references to bombings of civilians—and leaves them there, undeveloped.

In the end, forces led by Texas and California take the capital. It is the most praised sequence and also the most debated: some speak of an epic deployment designed for the big screen; others, of digital effects that stand out, especially in the helicopters.

The two protagonists: is this a movie for today’s audience?

The two central figures are women: a veteran war photographer, played by Kirsten Dunst, and a young woman who wants to be one. This fact alone is enough for part of the audience to label it from the start. The most repeated response is that it is not: that it is about a war, that the male characters are secondary, and that’s it. Another part argues that the generational shift is deliberate.

Because the film does something very specific: the young woman hardens with each violent scene and ends up taking the decisive photograph; the veteran falls apart and dies. This exchange—the new taking the place of the old—runs through the entire film and weighs more than the war itself.

The message: electoral warning or mere decoration?

Here lies the knot. It is not debated what happens as much as why. A widespread reading holds that the film functions as a warning: if a certain candidate wins again, this is what may come. Another equally broad current believes it falls short and has avoided any real political stance to not lose box office in an election year.

The most cited scene is at the gas station. The journalists stop to refuel and the locals, armed, refuse to sell to them: the fuel is for the locals. She offers 300 dollars. The response: with that you cannot buy even a sandwich. Until she clarifies they are Canadian dollars. There, the country depicted by the film is condensed: a closed economy, mistrust, and money that no longer worth what it claims to be worth.

There is another uncomfortable sequence, in which a group kills those they do not consider part of the country. And a supporting character played by Jesse Plemons—the real-life husband of the protagonist—embodies the stereotypical violent man, with colored glasses that some read as a deliberate nod.

Could a Texas-California alliance be possible?

This is the most jarring point. The two states are nothing alike, and the script puts them on the same side. A repeated calculation: California is the fifth-largest economy in the world; added to Texas, it would rise to second or third. That is, the film did not need foreign armies: it was enough with two states that weigh more than most countries.

Here comes the military detail. It is pointed out that much of the US Army is deployed abroad and that many armored units, air bases, and the Pacific fleet have their headquarters in that strip. Whoever controls those means controls the balance. The film does not delve into it: it also does not clarify why the central government is left without effective support.

It is not the first: from the postman to the war between neighbors

Cinema had already imagined this. A 1990s film about a postal delivery in a broken country is recalled, another low-budget film about a New York neighborhood invaded by an army, and a TV movie from the same decade about states refusing to shelter refugees arriving after a nuclear war in Asia. Nothing new under the sun, although the packaging is: release in immersive screen format and coincidence with the electoral calendar. Its director, Alex Garland, has announced his retirement from cinema trinc this release, according to the press.

Verdict: good action, bad politics

Opinions are split almost equally. One block defends it as a well-handled tension film, with good combat sequences and sustained pacing. Another fails it: it accuses it of being slow, that the characters make absurd decisions for the plot to advance, and that the context is conspicuously absent. Some lasted half an hour and left.

For the American audience, the shock is greater; outside, it is seen as just another war movie that could be set in any other conflict country. And that, probably, is what the production was looking for.

With these elements, it would be logical for the film to generate a deep political debate in its country of origin. What it has generated, above all, is a discussion about casting quotas and about who the fictional president resembles. It remains to be seen if that is exactly what they were looking for.