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Warning: The following article contains spoilers for Alex Garland’s Civil War.
Civil War is a grounded story about war journalism. Still, Alex Garland’s latest movie ending does have some symbolism worth explaining.
Garland is known for crafting weird and confusing movies. Ex-Machina delves into the threat of Artificial Intelligence and the risk of creating life. Annihilation goes one step further by discussing the nature of identity itself. Finally, the divisive Men is a horror movie filled with disturbing imagery that tries to reveal the pathetic roots of sexism.
On the surface, Civil War feels like a completely different type of beast. The movie is set in a dystopic future when multiple states in America have raised the flag of independence, starting a civil war that’s destroying the country. Surprisingly, given Garland’s knack for sci-fi, Civil War is exceptionally realistic, focusing primarily on the emotional journey of a group of war journalists.
Civil War is not about the conflict; it’s about the journalist’s journey
Civil War takes place in the final days before the end of the Second American secession war. The conflict has spread throughout the country, with battles occurring from New York to Texas. It is never clarified why each group is fighting. Still, Garland offers some stomach-turning scenes to underline how every side is capable of despicable things in their campaign to victory. Nevertheless, even though it takes a strong anti-war stance, the story is not only about the horrors of senseless conflict. In fact, the movie is primarily about the necessity of journalism in a chaotic world and the dangers of becoming desensitized to other people’s pain.
For most of its runtime, Civil War structures itself as a road trip movie. Knowing that the President of the United States will soon fall when the Western Forces invade Washington, Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and Joe (Wagner Moura) decide to cross a war-torn country to get the last interview of the soon-to-be deposed leader. They are both experienced journalists who witnessed all sorts of barbaric events, to the point where they accept their role of passive watchers as bodies drop around them.
Tagging along for the trip is Less and Joe’s New York Times mentor, Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson), an aged reporter who needs a ride to Charlottesville, the front of the final battle for America’s fate. Completing the group is Jesse (Cailee Spaeny), a 23-year-old young woman who idolizes Lee and wants to become a war photographer just like her ideal.
As the quartet traverses the country, they encounter many dangerous situations that confront them with the calamities of the war. The characters’ reactions at each step of the way help paint a complex picture of war journalism and how people generally relativize the most shocking things.
First of all, Sammy believes the role of journalism is shedding light on the darkest corners of the world, helping people everywhere understand the awful things humanity must overcome. Lee, as his disciple, shares Sammy’s worldview, at least partially. After many years of photographing the most gruesome human actions without intervening, Lee questions the validity of her work – even more since the pictures she took from war zones everywhere were not enough of a warning for Americans to avoid the same fate. Finally, Joe rejoices in the adrenaline of putting his life at stake for a scoop, revealing a dark and selfish aspect of journalists.
As a newcomer to the profession, Jesse will slowly shape her worldview during the road trip. Sadly, Jesse’s final fate cements Civil War as an absolute tragedy.
Lee and Jesse’s mirrored fate turn Civil War into a tragedy
When Civil War begins, Lee is a veteran war photographer who doesn’t flinch in the face of death and destruction. Jesse, on the other hand, has an emotional breakdown the first time the group of journalists encounters proof of the unspeakable violence that has spread across America. Their roles will completely change by the end of the film, defining both characters’ fate.
The presence of Jesse forces Lee to confront her past as a war photographer, realizing that she has traded her humanity for the fame and prestige that comes with the job. She fears Jesse will become like her, ready to take pictures of other people’s misery instead of offering a helping hand. Lee realizes she shouldn’t be seen as an example but as a cautionary tale. At the same time, Jesse’s innocence in her first confrontation with war crimes awakens Lee’s lost sense of empathy. That’s why Lee is incapable of keeping a picture of Sammy’s dead body, as she feels the need to respect her friend above getting an image of his death.
At the same time that Lee is questioning the morality of her work, Jesse is learning to abandon ethics in favor of the perfect image. After being held at gunpoint, Jesse reveals that she has never been so afraid before nor has she felt more alive. Like Joe, Jessie gets a rush on the battlefield. There is something fascinating in knowing you are the first or the only person to witness a historical event, and the idea of having the whole world recognize her work pushes her to embrace the danger. In short, Lee and Jesse trade places in Civil War.
The coronation of Civil War’s pessimism happens right at the movie’s ending. After Sammy dies, Lee, Jesse, and Joe join the Western Forces in DC. The heart of America is falling apart, with gunshots illuminating the sky and tanks rolling through the streets. The Lincon Memorial is destroyed, and the army marches to the White House. Lee is inconsolable, feeling the dread of the situation sink to her bones. On her turn, Jesse registers everything without worrying about her safety.
When the group breaks into the White House, Lee tries to get a hold of herself and fulfill her goal. However, she can’t fight her instinct of protecting Jesse. That’s why, when Jesse ends up in the crossfire, Lee pushes the girl out of the way of the bullets, getting shot in her place. Lee should have captured Jesse’s death with her camera instead of intervening, as that’s the primary rule that guides her journalist role. Instead, she becomes the subject of Jesse’s photos as the girl captures her ideal being shot down. To make the situation even more gut-punching, Jesse leaves Lee’s corpse behind, rushing to the Oval Hall so she can be the one to photograph the President being executed. Jesse has become the new Lee, putting her work ahead of the basic rules of solidarity and humanity.
What makes Civil War so fascinating is that it doesn’t give easy answers to the questions it raises. The shocking actions of Jesse at the movie’s ending raise some obvious concerns about war journalism. However, if people were not willing to risk their necks to capture these images, we wouldn’t have the historical records we have, which are essential to understanding the world around us. Empathy and duty compete in the story, and there’s no clear winner.
Going beyond war journalism, the film also seems determined to analyze people’s passivity in the face of terrible events. Like its journalists, we all watch horrendous things happen worldwide without taking action. It’s not our job to intervene; we have more pressing matters. Yet, this passivity is what allows injustice to proliferate. Civil War shares the blame for the atrocities committed by humankind with the people who are content to watch the terrors unfold. It’s no wonder the movie lingers so heavily after the credits roll.