I've been curious about the film "Civil War," written and directed by Alex Garland, a Brit who's attracted to the genres of disaster and dystopia. The movie's premise is that of a second American Civil War, which to political junkies is like honey to a bear.
I've now read two reviews, one from The Guardian, whose headline is "Civil War is an empty B-movie masquerading as something of substance." You might think that alone would satisfy my curiosity, and put an end to it. But when it comes to films, there's no punishment on which I can't gluttonously stuff. Thus did I read another review, titled "How to Both-Sides a Civil War." Again, panned from the get-go, but off I went to read the entire thing. It was brutal.
The reviewer, Andrew Marantz, prefaces his cinematic assassination with this: "Like an erupting supervolcano or a catastrophic solar flare, a second American Civil War is something that really could happen—an unlikely prospect but, still, terrifying enough to be worth worrying about."
I can't say I'm worried about it, nor should anyone be. Still, anything's possible in today's politics; since 2015-16, nearly half the electorate has been entirely innocent of human decency and volcanically responsive to the most reckless among us.
Marantz's review is quite long, much longer than the director's awful excuse for filmmaking deserves. I don't ordinarily bash books I haven't read and movies I haven't seen, but this flick leaps out as one I choose to never see, hence I've no choice. I've reduced the review to a passable minimum (which should have sufficed for the reviewer).
"When the action of 'Civil War' begins, nineteen states have seceded."
Let's stop here for a moment, as you would have in the theatre just before exiting because you just learned that the secessionist states include "California and Texas; the loyalist states include New York, South Carolina, Kansas, and Arizona." Marantz is gentle, noting only that "as many viewers have pointed out, this makes no sense."
Moving along, against our will, "Garland had imagined the mechanics of an American Civil War 2.0 in minute detail, but he had left its causes deliberately obscure, he said, because 'at a certain point, the specifics stop mattering.... It stops being, in a way, issue-driven, and it just becomes anger.'" This, too, makes no sense. We're to believe that Americans are engaged in a great civil war whose cause and issues have stopped mattering?
We do learn this much, causationally speaking: "A tyrannical President in his third term (Nick Offerman, who doesn’t go out of his way to act like Donald Trump, but also doesn’t go out of his way not to) is clinging to power."
For Trump to cling powerfully is believable. But ... Offerman improbably told Forbes that "former President Donald Trump didn’t even cross his mind while playing the divisive president." This has nothing to do with the film itself; I just found it noteworthy in a clinically dissociative kind of way.
With no little regularity the reviewer emphasizes the film's principal downfall: "In the world of 'Civil War,' we get no hint about what has pushed the country beyond the breaking point, or what makes conditions in the secessionist states different from those in the loyalist states" — which is akin to making a movie about the real Civil War and never mentioning slavery.
Marantz's wrap-up: "Garland has said that his goal was to make an 'emphatically antiwar' movie. Yet 'Civil War' remains resolutely incurious about what might cause a contemporary civil war in America—and thus how one might be prevented....
"He seems to be trying to have it both ways, using our dire politics as topical I.P. ['intellectual property' or 'irresistible poison'? I really don't know] while tap-dancing around frank conversations that might get him in trouble with portions of his potential audience.... It’s hard to say anything meaningful about a country on the brink of collapse without addressing what brought it there."
This — all of it — is a letdown, a missed opportunity. A truly "meaningful [film] about a country on the brink of collapse" is sitting there, somewhere, like a diamond in the rough. But the writer-director refused to pick it up, cleave it into scintillating parts and put them on screen for millions of thoughtful moviegoers. That in itself would have been one way to demonstrate "how [a second American Civil War] might be prevented"; i.e., a forewarning.
Show the blood-soaked ghastliness to emerge from "a tyrannical president in his third term ... clinging to power" with small armies of Proud Boys and Oath Keepers roaming the streets in search of resisting infidels, as lost-cause S.S. goons did in the Third Reich's final days. Its potential may be extraordinarily remote, but remoteness is not impossibility.