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

Less smart and invigorating than it thinks it is, but containing strong performances and comedic zing, director Craig Gillespie’s “Dumb Money” eschews the nuance of its recent-history narrative in favor of amiable watchability.

Gillespie’s film, based on “The Antisocial Network” by Ben Mezrich, dramatizes the tumultuous happenings of the Gamestop “short squeeze” of January 2021. A red headband-and- cat-shirt-wearing Redditor named Keith Gill (Paul Dano), a.k.a. DeepF*******Value on Reddit and Roaring Kitty on YouTube and Twitter, rallies an Internet army to fight back against The Rich and make it big.

After determining that the company is undervalued, Keith goes all in on GameStop — convincing his large swathe of followers on the subreddit r/wallstreetbets to buy GameStop stock and eventually make the price skyrocket to $500 a share. 

The uber-wealthy hedge fund managers betting on GameStop’s failure — Gabe Plotkin (Seth Rogen), Steve Cohen (Vincent D’Onofrio, sometimes accompanied by a CGI pig), and Ken Griffin (Nick Offerman) — lose billions by underestimating the demographic they disparagingly refer to as “dumb money,” while still having some nefarious tricks up their sleeves that result in a Congressional investigation.

Paul Dano as Keith Gill, aka Roaring Kitty

Beginning at the peak of the squeeze, where Rogen’s Plotkin runs to make a phone call in sheer panic, the film jumps back and forth between five groups of characters showcasing various perspectives on the situation, each introduced with text indicating their net worth.

There’s Gill, whose genius (or luck) and expertise in online parlance helped start a movement — facing pressure to sell his skyrocketing stock from his loving wife, Caroline (Shailene Woodley, mining some pathos out of a fairly simplistic role), his amusingly deadbeat brother Kevin (Pete Davidson, in top form), and his somewhat clueless parents, Steve (Clancy Brown) and Elaine (Kate Burton) — while never quite knowing when to call it quits.

There’s the down-on-his-luck Gamestop employee Marcos Barcia (Anthony Ramos), who’s passionate about the company but contending with a condescending boss (Dane DeHaan). There’s the indebted University of Texas undergraduates Riri (Myha’la Herrold) and Harmony (Talia Ryder), who follow Roaring Kitty religiously and feel compelled to hold their shares as long as he does.

We also follow Jenny (America Ferrera), a stressed, underpaid nurse raising two toddlers and listening intently to Keith’s instructions. Last, and certainly least, there’s the hedge fund managers, caught with their pants down and scrambling to recover their losses, with Vlad Tenev (an underused but smarmily effective Sebastian Stan), the head of day-trading company Robinhood, playing a skeevy role in the whole kerfuffle.

With so many mini-narratives taking place under one umbrella, “Dumb Money” lacks the focus and thematic depth necessary to make any individual subplot hit with the force it could have. There’s nothing inherently wrong with a breezy interpretation of a true story, but it feels like Gillespie is only scratching the surface of the subject matter here — combined with filmmaking that lacks energy or pizazz, coasting on the appeal of its performers and snappy dialogue.

The whole cast delivers, doing what they can with characters of varying degrees of dimensionality. Dano is as reliably committed as always — weaving in and out of Keith’s various personas with ease; his confidence and quirkiness before his viewers reverting to awkwardness and defensiveness in front of his family. We never doubt the passion and devotion Keith has to his mission.

Davidson, once again definitely not playing against type, delivers the film’s most successful comedic lines. Lauren Schiker Blum and Rebecca Angelo’s screenplay mines dry comedy out of his laissez-faire approach to Kevin’s DoorDash job and his dumbfoundedness at Keith’s ever increasing ambition (and risk-taking) over not selling his stock. 

Ramos, Herrold, and Ryder are fine, bringing energy to their characters, even though we don’t learn all that much about them besides their participation in the short squeeze, and Ferrera sells Jenny’s anxiousness and desperation, putting her livelihood on the line and leaving her social life behind. 

Strength of the cast aside, though, one can’t help but feel like “Dumb Money” didn’t have to be an ensemble piece to begin with. What’s sacrificed by Gillespie’s approach is a deeper, more involving watch, where viewers fully understand the characters’ motivations rather than solely being told facts and being expected to buy into them.

Nick Offerman and Seth Rogen as hedge fund billionaires.

Viewers jump back and forth between the characters at various stages of the short squeeze, never spending enough time with them to fully appreciate their para-social bond with the man they’re risking their livelihoods over, relying on the heavy-handed screenplay to tell us how to feel in largely black-and-white clarity. 

Marcus, Riri, Harmony, and Jenny never meet Keith in-person — distanced yet hanging by his every word — and Gillespie misses an opportunity to explore the allure, compulsion, and righteousness they each feel by following Keith’s lead, besides bluntly stating that they feel certain ways before viewers cut away to a different character.

The hedge fund managers, brought to life with entertainingly snooty performances, are fun to sneer at, but one-note. It doesn’t help that Gillespie’s direction lacks energy, failing to capture the dynamism of directors tackling similar subjects like Adam McKay did with “The Big Short.”

Indeed, no amount of memes flashing on screen, Cardi B music drops, or amusing lines of dialogue can ever fully make up for the fact that “Dumb Money” is simplistic and devoid of true insight into the rigged game of stocks or wealth inequality. At least this David vs. Goliath tale remains an agreeable watch despite all this.

The screenplay’s preference for comedy — not dwelling on the stress or darker aspects of the story too much before reverting to laughs — undersells the stakes to a certain extent, but shines in moments separated from the Internet, especially involving Keith’s family and characters navigating mask-use during COVID. 

Additionally, it’s commendable that Gillespie makes all the stock-chatter mostly understandable and digestible. This approach, though — streamlining real-world events into accessible entertainment — applies to the film’s emotional element as well, rendering the attempts at both first-pumping and sobering moments all the more manufactured and lightweight, especially when the arguably more engaging epilogue is conveyed through on-screen text. 

At the end of the day, however, watching smug grifters get their just desserts remains satisfying to watch unfold, no matter how shallow Gillespie and company frame it. “Dumb Money” is too slight to linger long in the mind, but as a crowd-pleasing underdog story, it rises enough to the occasion.

Rushi Kota and Sebastian Stan as the Robinhood investors

“Dumb Money” is a 2023 comedy directed by Craig Gillespie and stars Paul Dano, Seth Rogan, Nick Offerman, Pete Davidson, Shailene Woodley, America Ferrara, Vincent D’Onofrio, Sebastian Stan, and Anthony Ramos. It is rated R for pervasive language, sexual material, and drug use, and the run time is 1 hour, 45 minutes. It opens in theaters Sept. 22. Alex’s Grade: B-

Note: this review was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.