By Johnny Oleksinski
All director Alex Garland had to do was title his new movie “Civil War” for it to instantly be deemed Very Important by tastemakers.
Who cares that the script is lousy? Or that the acting is monotonous? Or that the story amounts to a series of gruesome killings that you’d rather not sit through?
Doesn’t matter. It’s essential!
The gnarly film is about a modern-day domestic war in America and is, therefore, a prescient warning to us all, we’ve already been told with conspicuous enthusiasm by lefty newspaper op-eds.
They insist: You, too, could soon be tied up at a roadside gas station and tortured by dudes with Southern drawls.
But really Garland’s movie is no more vital to the discourse than “The Purge,” and is about 1% as entertaining.
“Civil War’s” shtick is that it’s not specifically political.
For instance, as the US devolves into enemy groups of secessionist states, Texas and California have banded together to form the Western Forces. That such an alliance could ever occur is about as likely as Sweetgreen/Kentucky Fried Chicken combo restaurant.
Still, one deadly encounter with a soldier played by Jesse Plemons leaves no doubts about what actual party he is supposed to represent.
The Western Forces are duking it out with the loyalist states who follow the president (Nick Offerman) — a fascist in an illegal third term — as well as the Florida Alliance and the New People’s Army.
Lest you arrive expecting cool battles, the fights are mostly just three or four guys shooting three or four other guys until a slightly bigger clash at the end. All we get are tiny tussles in a war supposedly affecting 350 million people.
Garland, with his incessant vagueness, is clearly aiming to keep the story universal rather than divisive.
However, considering his movie is set in a land of folks who love to discuss and argue about the news, it’s odd that none of the characters ever give concrete details about what’s going on. How did this conflict start? What does anybody stand for? Who knows?
Avoiding the elephant (and donkey) in the room makes the whole shebang feel fake, with the help of some lethargic actors.
Our guides through this not-believable hellscape are a quartet of unlikable war journalists whose lives we barely learn about beyond their resumes.
Kirsten Dunst plays Lee Smith, a hardened frontline photographer for Reuters who’s become numbed to violence and danger over the years.
Joel (Wagner Moura) is her reporter sidekick, who gets a thrill out of the battlefield … until he doesn’t. Moura’s performance, by the way, leads me to believe his numbskull journo couldn’t convince a telemarketer to talk to him.
Stephen McKinley Henderson is an aging New York Times writer named Sammy, who’s just about had enough. And Jessie (Cailee Spaeny) is a young, aspiring fotog who worships Smith and tags along for the ride.
They embark on a road trip from New York City — which is being bombed — to Washington, DC, in an attempt to interview the press-hating president who is hiding out in the White House.
The plot plods along — they drive a bit, guy gets shot, they drive some more, guy gets shot — and the dialogue is bottom of the barrel.
At one point, Joel walks into a clothing store in an eerily calm small town and says, “Are you guys aware that there’s a pretty big civil war going on all across America?”
This is what the New York Times called “a terrifying premonition of American collapse”!
Dunst is the best of the four performers, but a bitter, been-there-done-that reporter is such an old cliche. She adds nothing new to the archetype except her name.
A movie about a fictional second civil war isn’t a terrible idea, I’ll grant.
But how about instead of torturing viewers with a parade of point-blank executions, Garland tries making a well-executed film?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.