Exit Strategy — Warfare
As a writer and director, Alex Garland’s work is largely about trying to find the humanity in the inhumane. From Ex Machina to Men to Annihilation to the 28… Later series (the third installment of which debuts later this summer), the creative center of Garland’s career has been about people doing their best in the midst of the worst that our species can offer. Last year, he kept things a bit more grounded in reality with Civil War, depicting a future scenario where America succumbs to its base demons, a haunting and all too plausible outcome if we don’t listen to reason and check executive power. It was a beautiful and crucial story told through the literal and metaphorical lens of photographers and journalists, professionals sworn to the truth no matter how ugly. So naturally it was dismissed by the masses, because sexy androids and mutant alligators are totally believable, but not the idea of California and Texas forming a practical alliance. It barely made back its budget at the domestic box office.
Garland makes his second attempt at portraying warfare with, well, Warfare, though he largely takes a back seat to co-director and co-writer Ray Mendoza, who served as the military consultant on Civil War. An Iraq War veteran, Mendoza developed the story with Garland, and basically handled the direction of the actors and crew on set, with Garland providing technical support and guidance along the way. Based on an operation Mendoza took part in back in 2006, the film is a reenactment of one fateful day where he and his platoon came under unexpected attack. What separates this from jingoistic trash like American Sniper is its commitment to accuracy. Rather than lionizing one or more of the soldiers involved (or dehumanizing the Iraqis), the picture makes explicit that the entire plot is laid out from interviews and memories of those involved without exaggeration. The only major difference between what we see and the real event is that, with two exceptions, everyone’s names are changed, as for whatever reason (anything from PTSD to simply not wanting to publicize themselves) the others didn’t consent to fully come forward. In a tribute montage at the end, all the service members depicted have their faces and nametags blurred out, as a means of both honoring their wishes and emphasizing the truth of what took place.
On an otherwise routine day in Ramadi, a platoon of Navy SEALs takes sniper positions in a civilian house, one occupied by two Iraqi families. Translators are tasked with assuring the residents that they’ll be okay, and the Americans aren’t here to hurt them. Their job is simply to establish a vantage point for rifle and air support for a larger Marine Corps operation, facilitating surveillance for patrolling units. They also monitor the area for suspicious activity, which they see in a marketplace across the street, as a few young men enter and depart from a hidden doorway, all while insurgents broadcast a jihadist message.
It’s a very tense opening act, but it’s meant to show just how committed and tight the group is, as well as demonstrating how methodically they go about their very dangerous work. It’s ironic that the film opens with the one truly “positive” moment, where the SEALs enjoy some downtime back at base, watching of all things, the music video for the blasphemous Eric Prydz “Call on Me” track that’s just a dubstep remix of the chorus from Steve Winwood’s “Valerie.” If you’ve never seen it, it’s a parody of 80s workout videos, featuring buxom women in leotards suggestively thrusting their junk in the direction of the one man present. It’s garbage, but it was definitely popular at the time, and the bros in the room certainly get off on it. It’s meant as a contrast to the deadly scenario they all find themselves in later, while also being a backhanded acknowledgement of those who would dismiss these men as meathead grunts. Sure, they’re not exactly intellectuals, but as the rest of the movie shows, when it comes to the tasks they need to perform, they’re expert to the point of nearly being flawless, and given the life or death stakes of their mission, even when they’re not technically on the frontlines, they certainly deserve to let off steam whenever they can. If a testosterone-driven bonding session watching a horny music video is how they need to relax, who are we really to judge?
It’s the one true instance of levity in the picture (though we do get some playful trash talk interspersed throughout the first act as well), and it’s one that the audience will likely think back to as events unfold. Mind you, the actual soldiers won’t flash back to it, or even mention it again, but I’d wager dollars to donuts that a fair amount of viewers will make a mental note, just to remind themselves of how things began. It’s arguably a crucial degree of fan interaction from inside the theatre, to ensure that things don’t become emotionally triggering just as a spectator.
The slow burn is extremely well-executed, giving us insight into how even the more mundane military assignments play out. The officer in charge, Erik (Will Poulter playing quite admirably against type), keeps things disciplined and coordinated, checking in with members of the team regularly (particularly his second, Jake, played by Charles Melton) and reporting them back to headquarters. Sharpshooter Elliot Miller (Cosmo Jarvis playing the only member of the crew apart from Mendoza to be fully identified; Miller gets a specific dedication during the credits) keeps a watchful eye on the marketplace through his scope. Mendoza himself (played by D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai) is in constant radio contact. The dozen or so members of the Alpha One platoon do allow the briefest of moments for casual talk, because they’re actual people, but they’re always focused on the job at hand. They’re as fallible as any other human being, evidenced by Miller’s backup Frank (Taylor John Smith) hesitating to take out a potential target when he momentarily has a clean shot, but it’s clear that there are a lot of moving parts at all times, and everyone is on the same page working in tandem.
The group is surprised when an insurgent notices them and tosses a grenade through the hole in the wall from which Miller is aiming. He’s hit by some shrapnel, but there aren’t any serious injuries. Still, just to be safe, Erik calls in a tank to have him evacuated. Again, there’s an order to everything, one that’s easily conveyed to the audience, to the point where you can infer the meaning of all the lingo after just two or three utterances. For example, “CASEVAC” is the term used for the Bradley tank that will pick Miller up. The second time I heard the term, I assumed it meant “Casualty Evacuation,” even though I’d never heard it before watching the film. Turns out I was right when I looked it up afterward, but my point is that Garland and Mendoza properly get the message across through the visuals and dialogue, so that even if I was wrong on the literal definition, I still understood what was going on. For most civilians, particularly those without any military ties, I’m guessing that’s not exactly easy, but Garland and Mendoza do what’s necessary to make comprehension possible.
Unfortunately, Miller’s recovery does not go as planned. After a very deliberate and suspenseful buildup, things go to shit pretty quickly, including a moment that had me audibly gasping in my seat for the first time in as long as I can remember. I was genuinely stunned, especially because the moment was completely organic without being overtly telegraphed. What began as something of a character study of the intensity of war even for those not directly in combat instantly turns into an immersive battle for survival, where training merges with instinct and the rulebook that these men rigidly adhered to must be completely thrown out.
There’s a chaotic sense of “How did we get here?” that pervades the back half of the flick, and to some, the answer is quite simple — we foolishly (and illegally) invaded a sovereign nation expecting swift victory with little preparation and no exit strategy. The entire Iraq War can be seen as a boondoggle that cost thousands of American lives, hundreds of thousands of Iraqi lives, and billions of dollars that could have been better spent almost anywhere else, to say nothing of the fact that we went in under false pretenses. But this film isn’t about litigating the reasons we should or should not have gone in, or the fact that the insurgency was largely made up of Al Qaeda operatives (and later ISIS) who went in after our invasion removed Saddam Hussein and left a power vacuum that was easily exploited in the wake of the maelstrom. None of that is relevant here. However you feel about the politics that led to the war, or however history ultimately comes to judge it, the fact of the matter is the decision was made, and these men are now caught in a situation where their lives are at serious risk.
In a much less grave context, think of it like reality TV casting. Why are the same people brought back again and again? Why are millionaires playing Survivor when they clearly don’t need the money? How come some vapid bimbo gets a chance at life-altering fame and fortune because she’s friends with the producers or other past contestants, while someone with a personality who actually contributes to society doesn’t? All of these are valid questions that are rarely if ever given a satisfactory answer, but once the show begins, they don’t matter. I can curse a blue streak that yet another racist jock gets to be on Big Brother, but objectively, whatever reasons the show had for picking them, all that matters now is the game itself. They have (presumably) an equal chance with everyone else who got chosen, and as long as they operate within the rules, may the best person win. The pretext is not practically germane to the needed outcome.
So rather than look at Warfare like a missed opportunity to reexamine the how and why of Iraq, it’s best to look at it as more of a spiritual successor to what Full Metal Jacket was for Vietnam, as the two are quite similar in theme and action. The viewer knows from historical context that our protagonists (the film is careful not to refer to the Iraqis as “villains,” but rather as “enemies” on the battlefield, something other projects in this space woefully failed to do) are not operating in a purely altruistic or even patriotic space (we were most decidedly NOT “greeted as liberators”), so there’s no illusion that the very concept of freedom is on the line here. They’re in hostile territory where the local force knows more about the lay of the land than they do, and we see in stark, graphic, but still realistic terms how they have to adapt and band together to accomplish the goal of simply living to fight another day. Garland and Mendoza aid this through incredible cinematography, editing, and sound design, creating a figurative and literal fog of war that’s as disorienting as it is enthralling. There’s also a balance that needs to be maintained between empathetic humanity and cold pragmatism, as Alpha One has to decide who they can save, and how they can do it without making things worse. How can you still be a person who feels anything while your small slice of the world is blowing up around you? Stanley Kubrick’s poignant drama sought answers to that very question, and so does this one. Really, the only difference is the level of technology at Alpha One’s disposal as compared to Cowboy’s unit in Hue City, which only adds an extra painful layer of irony when disorganized, guerilla tactics upend the mission.
Warfare is not a film about unsung heroes, or any kind of nationalistic or political messaging. Like the best war stories, it’s simply a movie about the people doing the work, people I conceded long ago are braver than I’ll ever be. It’s about disabusing the viewer of the notion of “grace under fire” and replacing it with a visceral depiction of what it really is like to be under fire, when grace simply cannot exist. There is empathy, to a degree, but once things start spiraling, all that matters is getting the fuck out of dodge, grace be damned. That Garland, and especially Mendoza, decided to do this with basically no extraneous bells or whistles, to the point that the only dramatic license taken is that which the actual participants added to their own memory, is utterly astonishing.
Grade: A
Join the conversation in the comments below! What film should I review next? What are your favorite war movies? If you’ve ever seen combat, how accurate was this picture in portraying it? Let me know! And remember, you can follow me on Twitter (fuck “X”) as well as Bluesky, and subscribe to my YouTube channel for even more content, and check out the entire BTRP Media Network at btrpmedia.com!
Originally published at http://actuallypaid.com on April 27, 2025.
