2024 audiences may not be in a space to enjoy Civil War. 2034 audiences (if they still exist) will love it.

Alex Garland’s Civil War. // Courtesy A24

The fact that Alex Garland’s Civil War is a less political film than you might expect is somehow a relief, while also feeling maddeningly irresponsible.

It’s a similar reaction to the one that seeped in following Martin McDonagh’s Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, a story with fascinating characters and a well-written (if ethically flawed) script, covering subject matter the writer-director wasn’t in a position to make a reasonable artistic comment on. Civil War sits just outside this territory, but only because it’s so compelling its politics (or lack thereof) almost don’t matter.

Civil War is a thrilling tale about the dehumanizing experience of war, both those who fight it and those who cover it from the front lines. It’s not concerned with the particulars of what’s happened to cause the breakdown of democracy, only that the current president (Nick Offerman) is so bad that states as politically and geographically disparate as Texas and California have joined forces to take him down. 

The deeply fractured nature of current U.S. political relations aren’t the focus of the film, just an outside factor that lends the story extra credibility. Garland somehow fashions that odd approach into a sprawling, harrowing odyssey with emotional resonance both in the wide range of attitudes it depicts, and the reactions of the main characters to what they see.

Lee (Kirsten Dunst) is a war photographer who along with her colleague Joel (Wagner Moura) is headed from New York to Washington, D.C. to score an interview with Offerman’s president before he’s deposed by the secessionist Western Forces of California and Texas. Offerman’s character is a fascist dictator. As fellow newsman Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) notes, he dissolved the FBI, authorized air strikes against U.S. citizens, and decided to simply not leave office after his two terms ended.

Alex Garland’s Civil War. // Courtesy A24

Sammy tags along with Lee and Joel on their road trip south in hopes of getting to the front line in Charlottesville. Also along for the ride is Jessie (Cailee Spaeny), a budding photojournalist who idolizes Lee. Each of these characters have different attitudes toward their role in covering the war. Joel is hooked on the adrenaline. The older, wiser Sammy feels a duty to report the truth. Lee is numb from all the death and suffering she’s witnessed. She worries that Jessie may experience a similar fate if she doesn’t change course.

As they wind their way toward the capitol, Lee, Joel, Sammy and Jessie encounter grim scenes that alter their understanding of their work. At a gas station they meet some rednecks preparing to execute looters. “I used to know that guy,” says one of the men of his victim dangling from a bridge. “We went to high school together.” A picturesque West Virginia town looks like a safe haven, but only because there are snipers on every rooftop. An encounter with a group of soldiers (led by Jesse Plemons) ends in violent tragedy.

Alex Garland’s Civil War. // Courtesy A24

Civil War is packed with vibrant characters and striking images that paint a relentless, memorable portrait. This is a movie that starts out feeling tense, and doesn’t let up until the final shot, a moment so abrupt it feels like we’ve just been Wile E. Coyote’d off a cliff. Much of Civil War is reminiscent of the Garland-penned 28 Days Later in its parade of characters getting by however they can in a violent world—some less humanely than others.

Despite all this, it’s hard to shake feeling like Civil War isn’t Garland’s story to tell. This is an election year, after all, and the outcome may have serious consequences for several vulnerable populations. Depicting a violently divided dystopian America, even in a fictional context, requires sensitivity, knowledge and inclusion of diverse perspectives that someone who isn’t deeply familiar with that history simply doesn’t have. 

On the other hand, it’s just as hard to deny that in ten years, we probably aren’t going to care about the Civil War discourse, because it will fade. Civil War, on the other hand, will still be around, because Civil War is a cannily-made movie that absolutely rips.

The best compliment you can pay a film is recognizing that future audiences will continue to embrace it, even if current ones don’t for fully understandable reasons. We may not be ready for Civil War now. In a few years, it will still be ready for us.