A Straussian Interpretation of Alex Garland’s 2024 Movie
As a massive fan of writer/director Alex Garland’s previous science fiction projects (Ex Machina, Annihilation, and Devs), I was highly anticipating his 2024 film, Civil War, about a future war between different factions in America following the secession and breakup of the United States. With the growing political divide in the real world, many are predicting it could lead to a second American civil war or a national divorce, so I was interested to see what Garland would have to say about the matter. But my initial thoughts when the credits rolled were “what a waste…” The film didn’t seem to have anything to say about the future politics of the US or the details of how secession and a civil war might actually happen. But, knowing the intellectual sophistication of Garland’s previous work, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and figured there had to be more to the film that I was missing.
Leo Strauss (1899–1973) was a German-American political philosopher who argued that many great philosophical works were written with a “hidden” or “esoteric” meaning, especially in times when open expression of controversial ideas could lead to persecution. He believed philosophers often hid their true meanings beneath a surface layer that appeared orthodox or safe. So scholars must read between the lines to grasp the author’s real message. That requires understanding the historical context and the political risks the author faced at the time. Looking for inconsistencies or paradoxes, which might signal a hidden argument. Paying attention to not just what is said, but what is not said. Is the author subtly communicating a radical or subversive idea beneath a layer of conventional language? To uncover a potential Straussian message you must separate the “exoteric” (public-facing) meaning from the “esoteric” (private/intended) meaning.
Leo Strauss primarily studied philosophical texts, but the same esoteric interpretation method can be applied to art, including film, especially during politically charged times. In modern Hollywood, movies must meet certain ideological standards before being financed, let alone released into theaters. If a subversive director wanted to release a movie that challenged the current orthodox political ideology of Hollywood, he or she would need to do so subtly, so as not to alert the ideological gatekeepers who would reject such a script in the pre-production phase. In a Straussian manner, the director would need to make the film appear to conform to the orthodox ideology on the surface—but beneath that facade would lurk a deeper subversive meaning perceptible to those able to read between the lines (or frames). Is Alex Garland one such Straussian artist? Was there a deeper esoteric meaning to Civil War that I had missed?
As you might expect from the title, Civil War is a movie about a future civil war in America. However, there are almost no details about the actual war, politics, strategy, motivation, or reasoning behind the opposing sides. What little we do learn makes little sense (such as Texas and California forming an alliance). We don’t ever know what’s happening politically, other than there is some kind of war going on between three different secessionist groups of Americans. Hence the famously memed line from the trailer, spoken by a gun-toting Jesse Plemons in red sunglasses, “What kind of American are you?” Like the audience, the soldiers don’t seem to know what’s happening in the grand scheme either, just that the people over there are trying to kill us, so we’ve got to kill them first, which may be the boots-on-the-ground reality amid the chaos of most wars.
Instead of soldiers or politicians, the story follows a group of journalists who are documenting the war. They embark on a dangerous road trip across the ruins of the former United States to Washington D.C., where they hope to interview the president, a thinly-veiled Trump-inspired figure played by Nick Offerman. The main character of the film is Lee, played by a grizzled Kirsten Dunst, as one of the journalists, famous for her photographs of the war—famous at least to the younger aspiring female photojournalist, Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), who Lee reluctantly takes under her wing. Lee is hoping to capture the quintessential photograph of the president that will explain to the public everything they need to know about the war in zero words.
As we watch Lee, Jessie, and the other journalists put themselves in danger, it seems stupid and useless for them to be risking their lives just for a photograph, especially now that there are drones that can do that (and conceivably do it even better in the near-future when the film is set). It seems even more foolish when you see that the soldiers themselves don’t seem to know what they’re doing or why. The movie leaves you feeling, “What’s the point of any of this?” And perhaps that is precisely the point Garland was trying to make: that war is pointless and we should avoid it at all costs.
I think that is partially correct, but that message (war is hell) is not especially deep or novel. It’s a message most Hollywood elites would agree with—at least nominally. Though to get a movie featuring advanced weaponry like tanks and jets green-lit, certain acquiescences must be made to the Department of Defense, ensuring the military is shown in a somewhat positive light. Theaters of War (2022) is a good documentary about this. I do not know if Civil War was made in conjunction with the DoD, or if Garland had to make any concessions about how the military was depicted. Regardless, I do not think the general anti-war sentiment is the primary message of the film. My Straussian analysis goes much deeper.
As I said, the movie doesn’t tell us how or why the civil war started, nor any of the motivations of any side. Or does it? Civil War is not really a movie about a civil war. It’s about journalists and how the press covers war. So what might Alex Garland be trying to say about that? This is where a Straussian analysis is required. In his interviews with the press, Garland has spoken of his admiration for journalists and the essential role a free press serves in a democracy. He said he wanted to make the journalists the heroes of the film. And of course he would say as much to journalists, the very same people who would be reviewing his film. Journalists are also highly regarded by Hollywood, which is an arm of the more general liberal media establishment. But what if a filmmaker wanted to critique the liberal media establishment? They would not be able to do so in a direct manner. Such a project would never get past the script stage to be produced. If the movie was produced independently, both it and the writer/director (and by association, anyone else involved in its creation) would be viciously attacked by the media for their “dangerous attack on journalism.” No, a subtly indirect approach would be required to critique the liberal media establishment without them realizing it. After viewing Civil War through the Straussian lens, a new interpretation arises. What if these journalists risking their lives to document the war are responsible for the war happening in the first place?
In the film, we witness many senseless acts of violence between competing factions in the civil war. There is no clear good side or bad side; they all seem utterly brutal and ruthless, killing the opposition without any rightful cause, as if their enemies are sub-human. There seems to be no side you should be rooting for, other than perhaps the press members who are supposedly “neutral.” So are the journalists the true heroes of the film, as Garland exoterically stated in his interviews with journalists? Am I reading too deeply into this film to search for an esoteric meaning that does not exist? Not so fast.
I believe Garland when he says objective journalism is essential for a healthy democracy, but I do not think he thinks all journalists are objective. Consider what passes for journalism in reality these days: how the press frames their stories and creates narratives that stoke fear and hatred, causing people to dehumanize others in their own country, often to the extent they might want to see them killed. Alex Garland didn’t come up with the idea for a future American civil war out of nowhere. The sentiment is in the air, the polarized antagonism obvious. Some fear a civil war might happen, while others are literally yearning for it. Garland directed this film for them. The movie is not predictive programming meant to hyperstitiously spur a civil war; it is a stark warning to try to prevent one. Garland made Civil War so brutally violent to tell all parties involved: “You might think you do, but you do not want this.”
In that sense, the entire movie could be seen as a scathing indictment of journalism—or the incendiary propaganda that modern journalism has devolved into, which is quite possibly leading the American people into a future civil war. The film ends (spoiler alert) with soldiers assassinating the President (who, again, has some clear traits of Donald Trump) inside the White House. After the movie was released, there have been two assassination attempts on Trump in real life. Do I think the movie incited or inspired that political violence? No. I think Garland just accurately sensed the political animosity that was already brewing and depicted their extrapolations on screen.
The straightforward reading of the movie, which the liberal media establishment approved of, was that a fascist president (and those who supported him) deserved to be killed in order to restore democracy. But what if the president in Civil War was not an evil fascist and was only being framed as such by the opposition media? No matter which political party you support, and no matter which is currently in office, you cannot deny that biased “opposition media” exists with incentives to get their preferred party back in power. The simplest way to do so is to attack the other side. One can easily rationalize slandering the opposition to defeat them, printing lies “for the greater good.” They need to make the enemy appear as reprehensible as possible to deter anyone from supporting them. Hence journalists create an atmosphere in which half the country wants to extinguish the other.
Unfortunately, most partisan journalists don’t even realize their bias, let alone the danger they are causing, how their demonization of political opponents may lead to a full-out civil war in the future. All they care about is getting that viral photo/quote—as Lee does in the movie. They’ll do whatever gets them clicks, even risking their own lives in the process—as Lee does in the movie. They are willing to die for a good photograph and bring the entire country down with them—as Lee does in the movie. And throughout the entire process, those journalists believe they are noble heroes for doing so—as the liberal media establishment did in their surface reading of the movie.
Civil War is ostensibly a realistic movie about journalism, but its portrayal of journalists is pure fantasy. Never mind the idea that journalists would never accompany a special operations team on an assassination mission (there were no photographers to document the Bin Laden raid, leaving many conspiracy theorists to believe it didn’t happen). On the surface, the journalists in Civil War are portrayed as purely objective figures who simply document events and leave it to others to answer the questions about the larger issues. Lee literally says this: “Once you start asking those questions you can't stop. So we don't ask. We record so other people ask.” And that is what journalism should be, but it’s not what journalism is in reality.
As I said earlier, to find an esoteric Straussian subtext, you need to search for paradoxes, inconsistencies, and what was not said. In the dramatic climax of the film, there was nothing negative said about the soldiers who ruthlessly gunned down unarmed men and women at the White House. There was nothing negative said about the cold-blooded execution of the president himself. Many left-wing movie-goers joyously watched this sequence as a wish-fulfillment fantasy of killing Donald Trump; while many right-wing movie-goers saw the same intent but were repulsed by it. But I don’t think either of them were right about the intent of that sequence. Newsflash: when you’re murdering unarmed people, you’re not “the good guys.” I think Garland constructed this final act of the film as a critique of the kind of warped political polarization (spurred by inflammatory media rhetoric) that would lead people to believe murdering unarmed people is good. This went over the heads of most viewers whose minds have been warped by the media to think, well of course they killed the far-right president and anyone who supports him.
Compare that with the scene of Jesse Plemons’ character, an unnamed soldier, who is clearly (and correctly) interpreted by all viewers to be an unredeemable villain. He and his buddies are members of a militia and are burying a mass grave of dead civilians whom they murdered. It is not clear what their politics or ideology are, but that doesn’t really matter. What the scene conveys is that this is what happens in war: the complete dehumanization of the other side, leading to them being ruthlessly slaughtered. Everyone recognizes when the “bad guys” do this. But most are incapable of the self-reflection to consider, “Are we the baddies?” I believe that is the deeper esoteric meaning conveyed by the climax of the film.
Why is it that people are so revolted by the ruthless murders committed by the militiamen (and rightfully so), but not the equally ruthless murders committed by the soldiers at the White House, which they are apt to excuse or even applaud? That question burns at the heart of the political divide today. Why are journalists so appalled by the corrupt actions of politicians from the other party, but not the equally corrupt actions by politicians on their side? Biased news leads to polarization, polarization leads to hatred, and hatred leads to violence. Only honest and objective journalism can break the cycle. They did not get that in the movie, and we do not get it in real life.
I cannot prove Alex Garland intended this Straussian critique of modern journalism in Civil War. It is possible his views of politics are really as simple and reductive as it might appear on the surface. Many otherwise brilliant people’s minds turn to mush when it comes to politics. But Garland is far too intelligent a filmmaker for there not to have been any deeper meaning to the film at all. His previous work is too sophisticated for the message of this to simply be “war=bad, journalism=good.” Even if an esoteric message was not intended by Garland, he is an artist, and art is created from the subconscious. Oftentimes artists are unaware of their own motivations or the ultimate meaning of the artwork they create. He could have subconsciously intuited some problem with modern journalism that manifested in his movie without him realizing it. My esoteric reading of the film is not overt or explicit (if it was, it likely couldn’t have been made). A journalist can watch this movie and see themselves as the righteous heroes, failing to notice any possible criticism of the way journalists cover politics and war—which is the entire problem with journalism today. They think they are merely documenting current events, but they are actually influencing the course of future events through their rhetoric about and framing of past events.
It is not insignificant that the two key journalists in the film are photographers. Today it is so easy to film everything with video, and though video can still be framed and edited, it shows much more of the full story than a photograph. Yet the journalists in the movie only take photos, one simple snapshot to represent a much larger, complex story. However, a single photo cannot tell the full story, no matter how great a photo it is. A single photo is framed in a certain way, from a certain angle, showing only a single moment in time—which can often be misleading. The media does this all the time. Just look at the photos they choose to depict politicians. If the news source is positively biased in support of a politician, he or she will look good and be smiling. If the news source is negatively biased against a politician, it will be a poor photo with the person making an awkward face. This is not a random coincidence. Journalists are carefully choosing those photos to influence the way viewers of the news will feel about those politicians. This is explicitly shown in the film when Lee deletes a photograph from her camera. The same thing is done with single quotes from a longer conversation taken out of context. Joel, the writer among the journalists, finally gets his quote from the president before he is shot: “Don't let them kill me.” But does that one line convey all that happened there that night?
An honest journalist would have recorded their entire journey to D.C.—essentially made the two-hour movie that is Civil War—instead of snapping a few dozen photographs that can be chosen and taken out of context to tell whatever story the journalists want to about their journey. Even the two-hour movie itself is edited, not the full story, but it at least shows more of the story. In the climax of the film, the journalists are at the White House to record the execution of the President, whom they explicitly state they oppose (what happened to objectivity?). So they will presumably use their photos to depict the soldiers who killed the president (and mockingly posed with his corpse) as heroic, on the side of good. Hence they will not publish the photos of those soldiers ruthlessly gunning down unarmed civilians, presumably members of the president’s staff. The soldiers (and journalists) may believe those murders were justified because of what the president and his administration did. However, we never see the president or his staff do anything worthy of capital punishment.
There is nothing in the film to prove why the president is an authoritarian, other than the fact that he is currently serving a third consecutive term—though that is not uncommon during wartime. There is a mention of the “Antifa massacre,” but Garland slyly does not indicate who did the massacring. Some characters in the movie say the president did horrible things, but that doesn’t necessarily prove anything. They could have “Offerman Derangement Syndrome” and believe him to be an evil fascist because biased journalists keep framing him as such, exaggerating his misdeeds and publishing fake stories to defame him, which riled up the consumers of the media (on both sides), leading to the very civil war in the movie.
In this respect, the movie can be viewed as the logical conclusion of Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS). When the media keeps calling Trump a fascist and a threat to democracy, they are riling up the anti-Trump left to want to see him persecuted—as well as the pro-Trump right to defend him against such unfair attacks. The feedback loop between the media, voters, and politicians causes those in power to take ever-increasing measures to maintain their power, such as politically-motivated prosecutions, foreign collusion hoaxes, and false flag events. The film shows that extreme rhetoric in the media can lead to extreme violence in reality—which is something neither side actually wants. If that was the Straussian thesis of the film, it has already proven to be correct. Following the release of Civil War (in the very same calendar year), there were multiple assassination attempts on a presidential candidate the media explicitly labeled an “authoritarian” and “threat to democracy.” If any of those assassination attempts were successful, it might very well have started a civil war in real life, akin to the one in the film (albeit with different state alliances).
Even if some viewers manage to recognize a subtle critique of journalism in the film, they will likely only go so far as to say that the problem is the biased media on the other side, not their own. We can all see the evil in Jesse Plemons’ character. But most are incapable of looking in the mirror and seeing the evil in the soldiers at the White House. It is far too easy to rationalize your own bias and excuse the atrocities your side commits as righteous. Such political tribalism is a grave problem in the world today—an existential problem worth making a movie about. But because of the tribalism of the very gatekeepers who would finance and produce such a film (and the journalists who would review it), the message must be hidden beneath layers of subtext and plausible deniability. Most modern filmmakers I wouldn’t even consider being capable of such esoteric profundity, but Alex Garland is one of the few directors working in Hollywood today whose past work has approached the complexity of an auteur like Stanley Kubrick. Countless books have been written and entire documentaries made attempting to unravel the hidden meaning of Kubrick’s films. Maybe one day someone will do the same for Civil War.
I do not know if Alex Garland meant to convey a Straussian message critical of modern journalism in Civil War, and I doubt most viewers will recognize it (reading the reviews, I can’t find anyone else who has). But something Garland certainly meant and that all viewers can agree with, is that a second American civil war will be very bad. No one should want it. After that bullet nearly blew Trump’s head off on live television, even most Trump haters realized that they didn’t actually want him murdered. But when inflammatory rhetoric in the media continually heats up political hatred among the populace, it is only a matter of time until that dehumanized hatred boils over into political violence.
Whether a second American civil war ultimately happens in reality may not depend so much on the politicians who craft policy—it will lie in the hands of the journalists who cover those politicians and how the masses perceive them (and each other). Alex Garland was speaking honestly when he said objective journalism is essential. But you do not make a movie about the necessity of objective journalism if it currently exists in abundance—you make such a movie because it is severely lacking. And without it, the United States will not last.