First off, in this fusion #threetunetuesday cross movie review ramble, I have been an Alex Garland fan since he wrote 'The Beach'. Published in '96, it finds it's dog eared way to backpacker bookshelves and op shops everywhere, such was its popularity. Like Shantaram, it was a good read for travelers, exploring themes of utopian island paradises in contrast to the dark side of human nature. Finding a secret idyll on a hidden island, a young British backpacker joins a community of likeminded travelers living there, but then face conflicts with locals, power struggles and the harsh realities of isolation. Garland's novel is a commentary on how we idealize paradise and how human desires can be destructive. I wouldn't class it as excellent literature, but it was a great read at the time.

Garland also wrote the script for 28 Days Later, a 2002 zombie film with a fantastic opening sequence where Cillian Murphy wakes in a hospital and finds himself in a post apocalyptic nightmare where fast moving zombies - that is, rage infected humans - destroy the fragile fabric of civilisation. If you know me at all, you'll know I'm a fan of a good zombie film.

It was zombie films I was thinking of as I watched 'Civil War', unaware that Garland directed it. The setting wasn't a landscape of zombie destruction, but equally post apocalyptic, and rife with human beings that had lost their soul or were in the process of losing it.

Kirsten Dunst as traumatised war photographerImage Source

The pace is set, in my opinion, with this song by Suicide. If there's ever a song that says 'post apocalypse' it's this one. It has this slow, ominous, minimalist and unsettling tone - a droning, repetitive, rolling rhythm and a pulsing beat that sets the mood for the pace of the cross country road trip across war torn America. The vocals are equally detached, menacing and echoey, and the bleak, foreboding and desolate landscape of the song is tone perfect with the dystopia of the film. Since this post is also for @ablaze's #threetunetuesday, it's worth including the lyrics as well:

Rocket rocket USA
Shooting on down the highway
TV star riding aorund
Riding around in a killer's car
It's nineteen seventy seven
Whole country's doing a fix
It's doomsday doomsday
Riding around, riding high
Riding around with my babe
Speeding on down the skyway
Speeding on down the skyway
Rocket rocket USA
Shooting on down
On my way
TV star riding around
Riding around in a killer's car
It's doomsday doomsday
Speeding on down the skyway
One hundred miles per hour
Gonna crash
Gonna die
And I don't care
Rocket rocket USA
Shooting on down the skyway
Speeding on down the skyway
Rocket rocket USA

Critics of the film worried at the backstory and were skeptical about the politic alliances in the film - understandably, a Texas-Californian Front is about as far-fetched as it gets. There's no real exposition of how America got to this point of civil war, which disgruntles some viewers. But the ambiguity works - it's not so much about how America got this way, but the realities of war itself. Like 'The Beach' and '28 Days Later', 'Civil War' looks at the dark side of human nature, and just what we are capable of. There's some harrowing scenes both in the war reporter Kirsten Dunst's flashbacks of photographing scenes of horrific violence, and in the frenetic heat of their road trip to interview the president - mass graves, executions, senseless murders.

Jess Plemons asking 'where in America' are you from. Image Source

Besides, the film is definitely not entirely apolitical - there's certainly a stance made about totalitarian dictators, fascism, white nationalism. It's just that the political ties Garland makes are unbelievable, which creates a little distance between the immediate political landscape now and the world of the film.

The film also asks the viewer about their reaction to scenes of violence. At first, we feel uncomfortable. It's hard not to be - the subjects stare at the frame as they burn and are snapped by the camera lens. Just as the photographers insert themselves alongside combatants, the viewer is asked to stare into the abyss and steel themselves against the brutality. By the time the film ends, we are somewhat desensitised, though hopefully the final image will rattle us enough. This is not at all unlike how we watch the horror on our screens from afar. We see Palestinian hospitals bombed, cry, and then go about our day. We steel ourselves against the horror show. We scroll by. We stop caring. One can only imagine what it's like to be a war photographer that can only survival if they are able to desensitise themselves.

The scenes where Wagna Moura rages against the horror in Civil War and drinks to anaesthesize are some of my favourite, but perhaps that's just the eye candy.Image Source

Not only that, but the photographers watching it show how war photographers are meant to be impartial, though it's often hard to to be. They're meant to remain distant, to capture the raw that might be unnoticed if there is no one to document it. It's impossible, of course, to remain unbiased - one scene has their safety threatened on the edge of a mass grave overseen by a racist in rose coloured glasses. It's impossible for us not to take a position here. How can anyone be okay with such atrocity, no matter the politics?

If you appreciate photography, you'll also appreciate this film - how shots are composed, the difficulty of capturing violence and chaos on camera. It's definitely a film about photojournalism. Still shots can be made from almost any scene in the film, and sometimes are, demonstrating the art of composition and the manipulation of viewer emotion in the chosen frames. If you've read Scott Anderson's 'Triage' you'll understand the psychology of war photography - there's a distance needed to walk amongst the scenes of carnage and capture something that can send a message to the world or at least bear witness to the atrocity, but there's also the fact no war photographer is unscathed psychologically.

The music and sound in this film was really enjoyable - not just the tunes but where they are placed, and the silences, such as the auditory post explosion sound vacuum or the sound of birds and the wind as snipers crawl in wet and beflowered grass. At times the music feels incongruous, adding to the feelings of discomfort and discombobulation - the upbeat 'De La Soul' as prisoners are being executed reminds me of other war films where similarly sugary songs contrast appallingly with the visceral horror of what's going on. It's a disturbing juxtaposition that emphasizes the callous senselessness of the scene.

It also ends with this song by Suicide. I don't want to talk about the ending, but you'll listen to this as the credits roll with the last photograph showing just how mental things can get. I love this song - it's in my 'Songs I Like' list in Spotify - and it works as a hauntingly beautiful end to the film.

I read somewhere that Garland's taking a break from directing. When - if ever - he decides to come back, I'm in.