Warfare and the American War Movie

The French film pioneer François Truffaut once said, “There is no such thing as an anti-war film.” Conversely, Steven Spielberg once said, “Every war movie, good or bad, is an anti-war movie.” Considering that most, if not all, of the “canonical” war movies today were made after Truffaut’s death in 1984—I tend to agree with Spielberg. Even then, the first All Quiet On The Western Front adaptation won the third-ever Best Picture (then Outstanding Production) Academy Award in 1930, two years before Truffaut was born. 

The real issue when it comes to the war/anti-war movie debate boils down to media literacy, and how viewers consume these movies. Spielberg’s own Saving Private Ryan, holds no punches— depicting the gore and deadliness of the Normandy landings in World War II. However, the rest of the movie is about a group of soldiers’ noble effort to save one private against all odds. That said, it’s difficult to determine which side of the coin audiences resonate with.

American war movies in particular are striking, taking into account that every American war since the Civil War has been fought overseas; more often than not, in somewhat imperial contexts. Past the World Wars, each new, major American war is typically looked at with more controversy than the last. In turn, each new major American war film becomes more condemnable for subjectively glorifying— which generally aestheticizes America’s tarnished modern wars. 

Warfare stands out as a unique exception to this. Co-written and directed by veteran filmmaker, Alex Garland, and actual Iraq War veteran, Ray Mendoza—it follows a platoon of Navy SEALs on a mission amid the Battle of Ramadi in 2006. The screenplay is taken solely from the testimonies of Mendoza and his platoon; everything following the prologue plays out essentially in real time. 

In the wake of its release, I’ve seen a lot of criticism for Warfare, calling it propaganda, even referring to it as a “Call of Duty mission”—criticizing its solely-American perspective. Ultimately, viewers wind up criticizing Garland and Mendoza for their claim that they weren’t trying to make it political. Being apolitical and discussing the deplorable Iraq War, with or without a spin, are political positions in and of themselves. That said, I think at a certain point, Warfare eludes even its creators’ visions and speaks for itself — for those willing to listen.

What instantly sets Warfare apart from other war movies is its reality. Where others range from wholly fictional to dramatized biographical, I can trust that Warfare is showing me a vetted and accurate depiction of real-life events from start to finish. And that depiction often says something without having to explicitly say anything. 

First, the SEALs’ mission ultimately achieves nothing. They do not last long enough to support the nearby Marine operations they are there for, but rather, become quickly overpowered and driven out of their position—bloodied and maimed. The soldiers are never on the offensive in glorious evenly-matched combat. Instead, they are shown barely holding on to their lives in efforts to retreat. There is nothing appealing about this failed mission. 

Both Iraqi families depicted in Warfare, whose homes the SEALs commandeer and hole up in, have been criticized for claims of whitewashing. While it may be true that the families never get a role beyond their strife over the soldiers occupying their home—even in that limited window, there is a lot to be seen. Their reduced role in the face of this act of micro-imperialism speaks to their overall role as civilians amid an imperial war.

Similar to the populations of Vietnam and Afghanistan that were once forced to play host to their own invasive American wars, the Iraqis and their well being as the on-paper justification for the Iraq War are thin lies behind America’s real intentions and hawkishness. The families are mere obstacles to the threat of the Iraqi insurgency; a threat complexly exacerbated by America’s presence in the country and by prior interactions like the Gulf War.

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Overall, the plot of Warfare doesn’t come across as a glorious scenario to be in. Deafening explosions, movie blood and gut-wrenching screams of pain are certainly not in short supply here. Regardless of any greater political angle or context, I can’t see how people can come away from these onscreen horrors thinking they fetishize war.

For these reasons, Warfare is a feat. It would have been easy to make a movie with unscathed American soldiers and no Iraqi civilians to “get in the way” but, Mendoza’s deeply personal retelling of his lived experience is moving. It does not shy away from the gruesomeness of his memories, nor does it ever try to speak to America’s rationalizations for the war. The film simply follows an open-and-shut plot progression that recounts a singular real event. In fact, I think Mendoza is brave for reliving his trauma in this way and choosing to share it with the world. 

As for Garland,Warfare is a departure from his usual M.O., but of course, the waters of co-creation are muddied. It shares little with the sci-fi stories he’s known for, but does continue a discussion on the shakiness of war started by last year’s Civil War. His dark wit and cynicism are a solid match for the futility found in Mendoza’s memories from the day Warfare takes place.

Warfare might be controversial for its context and setting, but it shouldn’t be. It’s one man putting his horrifying wartime memories to the screen unflinchingly because he wanted to share them, and I have a lot of respect for that. Should viewers choose to look beyond its technical prowess and read between the lines, it’s a powerful look at the cruelty of war, distinguishing itself from its perceived anti-war movie brethren by grounding its weight in reality.