By Alex McPherson

Kinetic, daring, and pulsing with soulful energy, director Danny Boyle’s magnificent “28 Years Later” is a post-apocalyptic coming-of-age story staggering in its narrative and stylistic craftsmanship.

The action takes place 28 years after the second outbreak of the Rage Virus — a disease that spreads in mere seconds through bodily fluids and turns people into rabid, blood-spewing monsters. We follow Spike (Alfie Williams), a 12-year-old boy living in an uninfected colony on Holy Island off the northeast coast of England.

The Virus has been pushed back from Continental Europe, leaving the people within the quarantined British Isles to fend for themselves. Surrounded by naval patrols, they can only reach the Virus-stricken mainland by crossing a heavily-fortified tidal causeway. The colony itself, maintained with a strict set of rules, roles, and a belief system that prioritizes “killing the Infected,” lacks doctors and modern amenities. It’s  regressive in its culture and seemingly caught in a state of limbo as the inhabitants wait out the apocalypse. 

Going on a “hunting” expedition on the mainland is seen as a rite of passage for the youth of Holy Island, and now it’s Spike’s turn. His father, Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), a skilled hunter and hard-partier, plans to accompany him on the trip and wants Spike to follow in his footsteps; Spike isn’t sure if he wants to go down the same path. Jamie is desensitized to the world’s violence, taking a matter-of-fact approach to killing the Infected and serving his role in the community.

Alex Williams and Jodie Comer.

Spike’s tender-hearted mother, Isla (Jodie Comer), is bed-ridden, suffering from a mysterious illness that causes frequent bouts of disorientation and confusion, and the village has no means of diagnosing or curing her. Jamie ultimately sees Isla as a burden, so Spike takes on the role of looking after her and tries everything in his power to help her recover. Isla, alienated from her people physically and morally, is strongly against Spike going to the mainland, but there’s no real choice. It’s the expectation, so it has to be done.

Once Spike and Jamie cross the causeway, the village prepares for Spike’s Welcome Back party. All does not go exactly to plan, though. Spike and Jamie have a few hairy run-ins with the Infected, including rotund worm-eaters and an imposing, very naked “Alpha” that has increased brains and brawn.

Spike also sees a fire in the distance — signaling the whereabouts of the “crazy” Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), who Jamie almost refuses to acknowledge and seems frightened of. But Kelson might have the cure for Isla’s illness. In fact, he might be her only hope of survival.

It’s clear from the outset that Boyle, reteaming with “28 Days Later” writer Alex Garland, isn’t out to make a standard “zombie” film here. He’s more interested in upending conventions, daring viewers to get on its deranged and oddly sentimental wavelength. Boyle’s film is unabashedly singular in the bold swings it takes with nearly every element of its construction. 

Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Alfie Williams

“28 Years Later” wraps its blood-soaked yarn in social commentary on hate versus love, tradition vs. independence, isolation, and coming to terms with reality, while doing one’s part to honor the lives and memory of those we hold dear. It also encourages the act of looking beyond the stories we’re told to make our own futures. All the while “28 Years Later” remains a gory (at times shockingly so) post-apocalyptic horror film with a healthy dash of dry, British humor sprinkled throughout.

There’s a lot to chew on here, and Boyle/Garland keep the film moving at a breathless clip. On a purely visceral level, “28 Years Later” is punishing in the best way. Boyle’s signature punk rock direction maintains a propulsive momentum, and Anthony Dod Mantle’s cinematography — largely filmed with iPhones, sometimes making use of a 20-camera rig that’s perfect for pseudo-bullet-time Infected kill-cams — heightens moment-to-moment intensity through its gritty, rough-hewn quality.

It establishes an off-kilter atmosphere that underlines just how twisted the world has become, capturing the vast claustrophobia of the mainland with a sense of hard-fought promise and restless uneasiness that can turn to chaos at any moment. 

The masterful score by Young Fathers initially seems anachronistic, yet perfectly complements the film’s messy but deeply poignant core — a particular highlight during the terrifying opening sequence, which juxtaposes the Teletubbies with a rural community being torn apart and reborn by the Infected.

Ralph Fiennes as Dr. Kelson

The film’s style is eclectic and jittery, yet intentional every step of the way, as Boyle weaves in subtle and, well, not-so-subtle symbolism to establish this world of regressive norms, disease, and callous cruelty. It all effectively connects with Spike’s rushed transition into adulthood, and the frantic yet courageous steps Spike takes to become his own person.

Indeed, there’s plenty of harrowing escapes and bloody carnage in “28 Years Later”, but like “28 Days Later” before it, and unlike the Juan Carlos Fresnadillo-directed “28 Weeks Later,” Boyle and Garland remain focused on character above all else. Moments of levity and warmth are unearthed amid the desolation.

The film, at times, resembles a tug-of-war between these disparate tones, as Isla (vividly portrayed by Comer) reveals humane, even sensitive sides of Spike and the world they inhabit. 

By the time Kelson shows up — one of Fiennes’ greatest performances — Boyle and Garland prime us to embrace the unexpected, finding slivers of humanity amid his temples of skulls. Boyle and Garland encourage us to get on the film’s level; whether we can go along with the last act’s emotional trajectory is as much a test for us as it is for Spike. Luckily, with the exceptional performances across the board — especially newcomer Williams — it’s easy to become swept up in the film’s rush of emotion.

Spike and Dr. Kelson

At the end of the day this is a story of a boy and his family — Spike’s disillusionment with the traditions passed down to him, and his gradual realizations of the need to confront his fears, including the inevitable pull of Fate and the importance of love amid an environment pervaded by hatred of the Other.

Not all of the film’s big swings will land for everyone, notably its unhinged final moments that set up future sequels. But “28 Years Later” is still an unforgettable viewing experience. Boyle and Garland prove, once again, that they can find thrilling new avenues into genres we think we know inside out — crafting one of the strongest, most exhilaratingly unusual films of 2025 thus far.

“28 Years Later” is a 2025 horror movie directed by Danny Boyle and starring Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Jodie Comer, Alfie Williams, Ralph Fiennes and Jack O’Connell. The run time is 1 hour, 55 minutes and Rated R for strong bloody violence, grisly images, graphic nudity, language and brief sexuality. The movie opened in theatres June 13. Alex’s Grade: A+

By Lynn Venhaus

Accurately described as the most realistic war film ever made, “Warfare” is a harrowing and intense depiction of the Iraq War based on the recollections of a Navy SEALS platoon during the Battle of Ramadi in 2006.

“Warfare” embeds audiences on a surveillance mission gone wrong in insurgent territory as a boots-on-the-ground story of modern warfare and brotherhood based on the memory of the people who lived it.

Filmmaker Alex Garland, known for “Civil War” and “Ex Machina,” has teamed up with military veteran Ray Mendoza to write and direct a daring and gripping account of one day’s work, all from first-hand accounts.

After his military discharge, Mendoza has served as a film consultant, including for Garland’s “Civil War,” “The Outpost” and “Lone Survivor.” His expertise is paramount to this film succeeding and its visceral storytelling is admirably efficient.

In its 96 minutes, we see the U.S. forces take on the al-Qaeda insurgents in the capital of Anbar province, and it unfolds as if in real time in a naturalistic style. The screenplay is written like a transcript, and the soldiers go through their methodical routines.

Yet, there is an emotional charge. Garland and Mendoza filmed this war drama with such meticulous detail that you feel the tension, the clock ticking, the exactness of surveillance evidence, the danger lurking, maneuver plans, and the aftermath of an ambush as if we’re peeking through a hole in the apartment they’ve taken over.

D’Pharoah Woon-A-Tai plays Ray, the real-life soldier who co-wrote “Warfare.”

Like them, we wait for some movement or something to happen as they watch “military age men” in the street gather and look for signs of activity that would indicate an attack is imminent. As things developed, it makes a point: “Are we ever prepared to witness the graphic consequences of an explosion’s destruction?”

With their military training, the guys respond to their shifting minute-by-minute interactions with split-second compassion and quick-thinking remedies. This film focuses on teamwork, not individual character development, with the mindset that they are a band of brothers. But you feel everyone’s bravery and their fear.

Known as the “Gettysburg” of the conflict, the Ramadi battle was a key turning point, and it lasted from mid-March through mid-November. At least 75 American soldiers and Marines were killed, along with an unknown number of Iraqi soldiers and police.

The battle led to the formation of the Anbar Awakening, where Iraqi tribal groups rejected al-Qaeda and cooperated with U.S. forces.

Mendoza lived through the operation, and the actor playing him is the charismatic D’Pharoah Woon-A-Tai, an Emmy nominee as Bear Smallhill in “Reservation Dogs.”

Will Poulter as platoon leader Erik.

Do not expect backstories – families, hometowns, why they enlisted – because that information does not factor into the team focus.

You won’t really get to know the individual guys that well, and it may be hard to discern these young actors in all their gear, but a few do stand out by virtue of their assigned role.

The cast of up-and-comers may look somewhat familiar, as you’ve likely seen some of their work, but they blend in as men in service to each other. Each plays a real person, with character actor Will Poulter, recently in “Death of a Unicorn” and Emmy nominated as a pastry chef on “The Bear,” as the platoon leader, Erik.

He has a funny moment with some other soldiers as they notice a young man’s enthusiasm, and he says “That’s that new guy energy” and they all chuckle.

He’s calling the shots until Charles Melton, an Oscar nominee for “May December,” leads a team to rescue the wounded soldiers from this targeted hot spot.

The actors trained in a three-week boot camp to mimic soldier’s duties, and they appear as authentic as possible.

Kit Connor, who was recently heard as the voice of Brightbill in “The Wild Robot,” is memorable as Tommy, whose injuries are swiftly dealt with by the guys.. Cosmo Jarvis, who plays Elliot, an injured sniper and medic, is one of the unforgettable guys in a frantic race for help. Michael Gandolfini, as Lt. MacDonald, is his wingman.

Joseph Quinn is Sam.

Joseph Quinn, whose recent credits include “Gladiator 2,” “A Quiet Place: Day One,” not to mention “Stranger Things,” is a more seasoned operative, Sam.

Noah Centineo, Owen in TV’s “The Recruit,” is Brian, Finn Bennett of “True Detective” and “Black Doves” is John, Evan Holtzman of “Hit Man” is Brock, Alex Brockdorff of “Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning” is Mikey, and Taylor John Smith of “Where the Crawdads Sing” is Frank, among others.

The credits will roll with the making of shots, and a side-by-side portrait of the soldier and the actor who played him. Because some of the men remain on active duty, their real-life photos are blurred images.

The technical craftsmanship stands out as first-rate, especially David J. Thompson’s cinematography, Fin Oates’ editing, Glenn Freemantle’s sound design and team of sound editors, and the visual and special effects crews.

One of the knocks about the post-9/11 attack Iraq and Afghanistan war movies is that they haven’t been successful with audiences. However, some are outstanding depictions of the conflicts, include Oscar winner “The Hurt Locker,” “American Sniper” (highest-grossing), “Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant” and “Lone Survivor.” “Warfare” deserves to be ranked among the best as well.

A heartfelt tribute to the men who serve, “Warfare” is a powerful reminder of the human cost of war.

Cosmo Jarvis is Elliot, the inspiration for the film.

“Warfare” is a 2025 war drama co-directed by Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza, and starring Will Poulter, Charles Melton, Joseph Quinn, D’Pharoah Woon-A-Tai, Cosmo Jarvis, Kit Connor, Michael Gandolfini, and Noah Centineo. It is rated R for intense war violence and bloody/grisly images, and language throughout and the run time is 96 minutes. “Warfare” opens in theatres April 11. Lynn’s Grade: A-

By Alex McPherson

Depicting a frightening near-future scenario, Alex Garland’s “Civil War” is a sincere ode to journalists, a chilling warning to take history seriously, and a stark reminder to never lose our humanity amid chaos.

Eschewing backstory to throw us right into the middle of the conflict, “Civil War” depicts an America where an authoritarian, three-term president (Nick Offerman), who has disbanded the FBI, leads an army of loyalists against the secessionist “Western Forces” of Texas and California. Florida has also formed its own breakaway faction, apparently.

The less one thinks about the logistics of Garland’s film, the better. What really matters is that WF forces are getting closer and closer to Washington, DC, with the President in their sights, and America has turned into a scorched battleground.

The clock’s ticking for our lead characters – celebrated war photographer Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and Reuters print journalist Joel (Wagner Moura) – who are determined to snag an interview with the President before he’s killed, even though it may cost them their own lives. We first meet them in New York City, covering a gathering for water rations that ends in a suicide bombing.

Lee encounters Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), a young, wannabe photojournalist, on the scene. Jessie idolizes Lee and wants to follow in her footsteps, while Lee feels uncertain about encouraging Jessie to become a photojournalist —even as she recognizes part of herself in Jessie that has long atrophied into cold professionalism.

Lee has spent her career documenting overseas conflicts, becoming hardened and haunted by the atrocities she’s witnessed – continuing to put herself in harm’s way for a potentially misplaced belief that her photos will mean something.

Joel, hard-drinking and charismatic, is fueled by a thrill-seeker’s urge to capture the next Big Moment. His sociability, contrasting with Lee’s, masks his own trauma and desensitization; he’s holding onto a sliver of boyishness through the nightmare.

Lee and Joel reluctantly agree to bring along aging New York Times writer Sammy (an ever-comforting Stephen McKinley Henderson) on their trip from NYC to DC. Sammy, out of shape and vulnerable though he is, is still drawn to danger and his craft. He acts as a pseudo father-figure for the group – helping guide them (to a point) through the various predicaments they run into along their road trip from Hell.

Jessie also weasels her way into the group thanks to Joel, much to Lee’s annoyance. Thus, the archetype-filled press squad begins their voyage across the heartland – encountering numerous terrors along the way, documenting them for the future, and grappling with their work’s purpose (or lack thereof) as an already-scarred America continuously slashes new wounds.

Indeed, Garland’s film is an uncomfortable, eerily prescient, and strangely entertaining experience. It’s difficult to look away from this nightmarish vision of a war on America’s soil, particularly given America’s current political tensions and fresh memories of the January 6 insurrection.

However, Garland avoids delving too much into the specifics of the conflict, and “Civil War” isn’t concerned with examining what led America to this point, or giving us a clear side to root for or against. The film tackles grander ambitions than just capitalizing on partisan hatred that anyone with an Internet connection can witness every day.

Rather, he presents a possible future where complete dehumanization of the Other runs rampant, and any hope for peace is shattered by self-perpetuating cycles of violence. Seen through the eyes of our central journalists, the film succeeds at both depicting their heroic sacrifices, as well as issuing a grim warning to viewers without providing easy answers. 

Garland’s politically vague approach (he’s British, an outsider looking in) allows us to observe the horror without playing on or exploiting current offscreen tensions — an equalizing choice that renders the film’s graphic acts of barbarity all the more disturbing; startling and not sensationalized, every side is capable of cruelty.

Some viewers may decry the film’s both-sides-ism stance, but Garland’s film works better as a possible future taken to extremes, where negotiations and democracy have seemingly failed, and people have reverted to base instincts to cope.

As the characters variously become more numb, enraged, and even darkly energized by the situations they witness (massive shootouts, an idyllic Main Street patrolled by rooftop snipers, a bullet-ridden Santa’s wonderland), “Civil War” paints them as noble souls performing a necessary task, some of them mentally crumbling before our eyes.

Garland’s film, then, despite all its political side-stepping, stresses the importance of making their sacrifices and effort mean something, both within America and beyond it, within the film and outside of it. Garland puts the onus on us viewers to pay attention and to not merely let images wash over us as content to be consumed and forgotten, but rather as tools to be acted upon for change and action. 

It’s a provocative, somewhat self-important message, one that has faith in cinema’s ability to affect hearts and minds, and its effectiveness depends on whether viewers are willing to pick up what Garland’s putting down.

Still, “Civil War” works on a more basic level, too, depicting complex characters on a visually striking journey full of suspense and tragedy with an occasional glint of gallows humor, each stop a new opportunity for taughtly-directed drama.

Rob Hardy’s gorgeous cinematography finds beauty in the desolation of familiar spaces — abandoned vehicles strewn across empty highways, suburban neighborhoods morphed into warzones, a forest aflame, and once vibrant, buzzing cities becoming eerily quiet, with the threat of violence lurking around every corner.

Combat sequences — enhanced by stellar sound work — are jolting and involving, going from cacophonies to silence as we sometimes abruptly cut to watching Jessie’s pictures develop. 

The whole ensemble, too, is outstanding and has great chemistry, giving their characters a haunted gravitas. They embody, in distinct ways, a push/pull dynamic between documenting the truth and acting on innate empathy that might get them killed. Their contradictions only make them more compelling, rendering the film’s alternately cerebral and hectic rhythms powerful on both a large and small scale.

Dunst and Spaeny are particularly effective portraying characters that are seemingly mirror images of each other at different stages of their lives. Lee sees her former self in Jessie, a person who still has hope for the profession and for a better future, but witnesses first-hand Jessie’s growing desensitization — losing pieces of her youthfulness and, in some respects, her sense of self as she chases danger for the next shot.

Dunst gives an emotionally wrenching performance illustrating the shreds of hope and compassion that shine, if only briefly, through her tough exterior, while Spaeny sells Jessie’s arc without being melodramatic — Jessie bonding with the team as she comes into her own as the journalist she’s dreamed of becoming.

The film’s more memorable performance, though, is given by Jesse Plemmons as a member of a militia who’s as scary (if not scarier) than any recent horror movie monster, in a scene that’s difficult to shake.

Ultimately, “Civil War” is a gripping experience that will grow in power upon further reflection. It will no doubt spark heated debates — a feature that only great, necessary art can provide.

“Civil War” is a 2024 action science fiction film written and directed by Alex Garland and starring Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Cailee Spaeny, Sonoya Mizunoand Nick Offerman. It is rated R for strong violent content, bloody/disturbing images, and language throughout, and runs 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opens in theatres April 12. Alex’s Grade: A.

By Lynn Venhaus

Unrelentingly grim, the harrowing action film “Civil War” is a provocative look at a nightmarish “What If?” scenario — and claims to be science fiction as it’s set in the future.

Disturbing real-life events in recent years have stirred up thoughts of a domestic doomsday, a cataclysmic reckoning with armed militias if our country’s structures of power, authority and social norms are subverted.

Projecting a second Civil War without getting too deep into politics, British writer-director Alex Garland has escalated America’s current divisions to envision a ravaged war-torn landscape with refugee camps, resistance fighters, military checkpoints, and violent conflict zones. We don’t see how it starts, just that it did, and the nation is engulfed in violent conflicts.

He focuses on the press documenting the atrocities in besieged areas, and their struggles to work and survive in a dystopian dictatorship. Those ethics and their costs personally are a key part of the story.

As a professional journalist for 46 years, I found this very raw and realistic film triggering. It ramped up my anxiety from start to finish, so it’s hard for me to separate fact from fiction here. 

However, as a film the technical work is first-rate while Garland’s screenplay, meant to be an allegory, is a tad wobbly.

It’s no coincidence that the national release date, April 12, just happens to be the day in 1861 that the first — and so far, only — Civil War started. (Note: The film did have its premiere at SXSW on March 14).

This much is true: Actions have consequences. We can all agree on that.

And whether you’re alarmed by seeing a partisan extremist holding an assault rifle and asking what kind of an American are you while he stands next to a mass grave is going to determine how you feel about this hard-hitting but not entirely convincing film.

The primary character is Kirsten Dunst as Lee Smith from Colorado, a bold, taciturn war photographer patterned after the famous World War II chronicler Lee Miller, who embedded with the military in Europe, and was among the first in Dachau concentration camp after liberation.

Dunst plays Lee as a hardened risk-taker who eventually shows signs of being weary of all the horror she’s witnessed. Wagner Moura is her more gregarious but still jaded colleague Joel, a reporter for Reuters News Service.

Their dispatches are defining images for a homeland where some folks are pretending it’s not happening. Their next assignment is taking them from New York City 800 miles away to D.C. to interview the president. 

With no mention of a name or party affiliation, he is serving his third term and is played with gravitas by Nick Offerman. We do know he abolished the FBI, and a bit of dialogue refers to an ‘anti-fa massacre.’

The pair are trying to get to the White House before rebel factions do, and complications arise with the addition of two passengers. 

Their professional rival, a grizzled veteran named Sammy from the New York Times, tags along – and he’s played by first-class character actor Stephen McKinley Henderson.

The film’s strength lies in the performances, with Cailee Spaeny a standout as Jessie, a novice photographer whose encounter with her role model Lee leads to her inclusion in the car. Lee is reluctantly forced to take Jessie under her wing, and it’s on the job training in a hurry.

Garland prefers to keep a distance instead of emotionally engaging us, as the desensitized journalists are sketched in broad strokes. Fueled by adrenaline, they fearlessly rush into danger while others flee it – because that is what they do.

Garland uses snapshots of their work to demonstrate the impact of visual images in telling a story. Cinematographer Rob Hardy’s vivid work is exceptional as he contrasts the bucolic countryside with the bloody chaos of bombings. Hardy has collaborated with Garland before, on his acclaimed “Ex Machina” and “Annihilation.”

While journalists are notorious for gallows humor, these cynical correspondents go about their jobs with workmanlike precision. Yet, the trauma they witness has changed them – although we don’t get too many details.

That is a frustrating aspect of this film – the lack of specifics, which is intentional, but confusing because it is so vague. I get Garland’s point that he’s trying to be sly, but whether he’s lensing the aftermath of apathy or anarchy — or both — is unclear.

Several states have alliances, and soldiers from the Western Forces are headed to the capital. Don’t waste time trying to figure out what California, Texas and Florida are up to because you’re not going to find out.

Garland has written some of the best sci-fi films of the new millennium, including “28 Days Later,” “Sunshine” and “Never Let Me Go.”

His films always pack a visceral punch, and for this one, the examples of torture and war crimes are grisly. Just as chilling, though, are glimpses of random weaponized citizens roaming in quaint small towns.

Editor Jake Roberts has done a fine job of plunging us into the darkness and despair of this depiction. The sound work is award-worthy, from the loud bursts of ricocheting bullets to the primal screams you don’t hear.

However, for all its bravura, the film’s needle-drops are puzzling, and are more jarring than appropriate. Ben Salisbury and Geoff Barrow’s odd choices in music don’t seem to fit the action that we’re witnessing.

In the controversy-courting “Civil War,” a Brit gives us an unsettling look at a fractured America without much rhetoric, which could be a clarion call if it wasn’t so detached in its details.

Yet, it’s impossible not to be affected in some way by it. We have been watching similar footage in other countries, and now, this hits close to home. Garland is fueling opinions, that is for sure. Given such an inflammatory subject matter, the post-release debates should be interesting. 

(As Harper Lee wrote in “To Kill a Mockingbird”: “People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for.” — Judge Taylor)

“Civil War” is a 2024 action science fiction film written and directed by Alex Garland and starring Kirsten Dunst, Wagner Moura, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Cailee Spaeny, Sonoya Mizuno, and Nick Offerman. It is rated R for strong violent content, bloody/disturbing images, and language throughout, and runs 1 hour, 49 minutes. It opens in theatres April 12. Lynn’s Grade: somewhere between a B- and a C+.

By Alex McPherson

Flawed and deeply unsettling, director Alex Garland’s “Men” emerges as one of 2022’s most thought-provoking films thus far — at once ambiguous and graphically blunt, absurd yet grounded in very real truths baked into society’s fabric.

The film centers around Harper (Jessie Buckley), who experiences the traumatic loss of her ex-husband, James (Paapa Essiedu), that may or may not have been suicide. She travels to the bucolic Cotswolds countryside to heal and process her grief in relative peace. The context around James’ death is left vague; further information is doled out periodically via flashbacks to that fateful day, but Harper remains plagued by the belief that she, in some way, is responsible for his death.

Upon arriving at the spacious cottage owned by Geoffrey (Rory Kinnear) — a quirky, slyly patronizing chap with huge teeth — she initially enjoys the town’s calming atmosphere and lush, verdant surroundings, but serious issues arise, and her emotional vulnerability is preyed upon by malevolent forces that stretch back throughout human history.

While out on a quiet walk in the forest, Harper is stalked by a naked man, who then tries to enter the house, only to be apprehended by the police and released soon afterwards. Townsfolk accuse Harper of overreacting. Unable to stop thinking about James and their last moments together, she visits a church and bears her soul to the vicar, who then gaslights her and blames her for James’ death.

To make matters even worse, all of the men Harper encounters have the same face (all portrayed by Kinnear with impressive range and technique), insidiously exploiting her tragic past to exert control over her body and personhood.

As the plot progresses further and further into bloody horror carnage, “Men” can’t wrangle its numerous elements into a fully cohesive whole, but Garland’s film is packed with so much craft — acting, cinematography, score, editing, gross-out body horror effects — that it’s difficult not to appreciate the effort behind it all.

The film’s points on toxic masculinity and the power structures that support it aren’t exactly “novel,” but Garland’s go-for-broke approach to the material renders it damn near impossible to forget, for better and worse.

Indeed, “Men” is a challenging film to review. From a stylistic perspective, the atmosphere Garland creates is transfixing, recalling folk-horror classics like “The Wicker Man,” preventing viewers from having a clear picture of what’s actually going on. The English countryside bursts with eye-popping hues that create a sense of heightened reality, of tranquility disturbed.

Despite the beautiful scenery, there’s always something off about Harper’s environment, whether a mysterious ripple in a pond or a lacerated figure lurking just off-screen. Similarly, flashbacks are bathed in red lighting, reflecting Harper and James’ raw, turbulent emotions. The editing — opting for patient long takes and dreamlike rhythms that weave together Harper’s present with memories she cannot stop reliving — is mesmerizing, accompanied by an off-putting, choral-inflected score that furthers the uneasy atmosphere.

Rory Kinnear in “Men”

Buckley and Kinnear are outstanding, although the latter is ironically given more to do than the former. Harper is a sadly passive presence acted upon by outside forces for much of the runtime, and we never learn much about her backstory except for her fraught relationship with James. Buckley’s passionate performance endears us to Harper from the get-go, but “Men” could have delved even deeper into her psyche, as it eventually eschews focus on her specifically to target larger societal issues.

Kinnear, chewing scenery to a pulp, inhabits each of his 10 characters with distinctive quirks and levels of menace, from a schoolboy with an awkwardly transplanted CGI face to a casually dismissive policeman. Whether or not all these men are, in fact, the same person remains up to interpretation, and it’s admirable how “Men” refuses to answer this question definitively.

What really matters, though, is that each of Kinnear’s characters emphasizes different facets of misogyny, entitlement, and insecurity — different sides of the same coin, coming together to form a monstrous whole. 

As the terror ramps up, the ideas “Men” presents are more compelling than the execution, which — for all its swing-for-the-fences gusto — undermines the more sobering points Garland’s trying to make, and becomes difficult to take seriously in the blood-soaked finale. Biblical and literary allusions abound — most glaringly, the Garden of Eden — along with blunt historical references to such figures as The Green Man, representing the cycle of life, death, and rebirth.

“Men” seems to be emphasizing the deep-rooted power dynamics running back millennia, but Garland’s conveyance of the idea is blunt, visceral, and difficult to take fully seriously. This is especially true regarding the ludicrously unforgettable ending set-piece, a sequence so over-the-top and drawn-out that it distracts from Garland’s serious, otherwise intriguing commentary.

“Men” is ultimately a mixed bag, with plenty to relish and critique in equal measure. Garland has created a work that will certainly get viewers talking, however, and at least spark some reflection on harmful gender dynamics that persist to this day.

Jessie Buckley in “Men”

“Men” is a 2022 horror-science fiction drama directed by Alex Garland and starring Jessie Buckley, Rory Kinnear and Paapa Essiedu. It is Rated R for disturbing and violent content, graphic nudity, grisly images and language.and runs 1 hour, 40 minutes. It is available in theaters beginning May 13. Alex’s Grade B.