alex garland – Trekking with Dennis

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple – Film Review

The first part of this review is free from major story spoilers. The end of the spoiler-free section is clearly marked.

Last year, I reviewed 28 Years Later – the long-awaited sequel to one of my favourite zombie horror films of all-time. I knew then that a second film was underway, but I’ve since learned that 28 Years Later was intended to be a trilogy. That explains a lot, and I’m glad I knew that *before* I sat down to watch what is apparently intended to be the middle instalment of this story!

I said last time that 28 Years Later felt less scary, less impactful, and just less entertaining overall than I’d hoped or expected it would be… but that there was still the potential for its sequel to re-frame some of those story beats, or pull out a creditable ending to the story. It was with that mindset that I approached The Bone Temple. I wanted this film to thrill me, but the way I felt about last year’s instalment was certainly a cause for concern.

If you missed my review of 28 Years Later in 2025, click or tap here to check it out. I think it’ll add a bit of context to a few of the things we’re going to discuss today.

Three posters for 28 Years Later The Bone Temple — A trio of promotional posters.

One thing that I don’t think I explained very well last time was how 28 Years Later’s zombies – surely the most important part of any zombie movie – felt like they’d lost at least *some* of their fear factor. And that trend seems to have continued this time, unfortunately.

In 2002, 28 Days Later breathed new life into a horror sub-genre that had started to feel stale. Making zombies faster and more aggressive, and the virus that caused the outbreak, were a huge part of that. I can vividly remember watching 28 Days Later for the first time, practically wetting my pants at how utterly terrifying these infected monsters were, how they moved with such pace, and how they were so unlike anything I’d seen before.

I couldn’t quite put my finger on what had changed at first, when I watched 28 Years Later. Was it simply the passage of time, and the way Danny Boyle’s fast-moving “infected” have been rolled into the broader lore of zombie fiction? Probably to an extent. Was it because the zombie genre has been pretty oversaturated for pushing twenty years, with The Walking Dead and its spin-offs on TV, films like Zombieland and Train to Busan, and interactive titles from The Last Of Us to Dying Light? Again… to an extent, yeah.

Still frame from Train to Busan showing zombies — Other zombie films, like *Train to Busan*, have done similar things to *28 Days Later* in the years since that film’s release.

But there’s one more factor that, last time, I don’t think I really appreciated:

In 28 Years Later, and in The Bone Temple, too, many of the zombies are naked.

Naked zombies… they end up looking more *comical* than frightening, I’m afraid. And I really do believe that this costuming choice – or lack of costuming, to be specific – is a major contributing factor to these zombies not having the impact they once did. And yeah, it makes sense in-universe – almost three decades on from the apocalypse, surviving zombies have lost their clothes due to exposure to the elements. But… making sense doesn’t actually help make these zombies as scary as they need to be. And while I respect the decision to put realism first, it came at one heck of a price.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Samson feeding — Samson and his (mostly) nude friends.

This highlights one of the dangers of filming back-to-back. I can’t be the only one to comment on the zombies and their… nudity… so if that feedback had been available to Nia DaCosta, Danny Boyle, Alex Garland, and the rest of the team, maybe some changes could’ve been made before The Bone Temple entered full production? I’m not saying that was the film’s only issue – nor am I saying that 28 Years Later or The Bone Temple were out-and-out “bad” – but sometimes, being able to receive and act on feedback in between titles is a positive thing. And unfortunately, producing two films back-to-back leaves no room for manoeuvre in that sense.

There’s another point to consider, though, and it’s one that’s much more fundamental than whether or not zombies need clothes!

28 Days Later was unapologetically a horror film – in fact, I’d call it one of the scariest films I’ve ever seen. 28 Weeks Later retained that horror tone, though it introduced other themes. But both 28 Years Later and The Bone Temple aren’t really horror films… at least, not in the same way. There’s torturous gore, there’s literal Satan worship, and, of course, there are still zombies… but at their core, these films feel much more character-driven, much more exploratory, and much more personal. Perhaps they fall closer to “psychological horror,” at least in parts, as well as films that explore the post-apocalyptic world that their predecessors created.

Cropped poster for 28 Years Later The Bone Temple — Crop of the film’s promo poster.

That disconnect between the genre of film I was expecting to see and the kind of film I ultimately saw… maybe that’s what’s driving some of my disappointment with The Bone Temple? And perhaps I should make a conscious effort to appreciate the film for what it is rather than what I expected or wanted it to be?

The counterpoint to that, I suppose, is that, if Alex Garland, Danny Boyle, and director Nia DaCosta wanted to create a post-apocalyptic psychological thriller, exploring things like coming of age, mental illness, trauma, religion and religious extremism, and the nature of life and death… maybe they shouldn’t have called it “28 Years Later.” These films were consciously created as sequels, picking up the post-apocalyptic setting almost three decades later. Yet the kinds of stories that have been told in that setting don’t feel like they bear much resemblance to what came before. And as we look to the future and a potential third instalment – which, rumours suggest, may have dipped into the dreaded development hell – I can’t help but wonder what could lie in store.

Behind-the-scenes photo from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple — Director Nia DaCosta (left) with Jack O’Connell on set.

There were some interesting and creative choices made across The Bone Temple, with close-up, shaky, focused camera shots lingering on characters to hammer home feelings of fear and confusion. In some ways, these felt like they were lifted from a low-budget, experimental, almost “arthouse horror” project – if that makes sense. I could feel the creative team’s intentions – and see, perhaps, where they lifted some of these ideas from. It could feel intense, yes, but that intensity served a purpose for the most part, and carried some of these heavy themes.

I think I’ve said all I can without crossing the line into narrative spoilers.

If you want to know whether or not I recommend The Bone Temple, here’s what I’ll say. If you enjoyed 28 Years Later, this film is the natural next step, and I think you’ll find it interesting, at the very least. If you were a fan of 28 Days Later a while back, and you didn’t really gel with the changes made in 28 Years Later last year… then The Bone Temple doesn’t redeem it, nor undo those changes. If you want an interesting and occasionally thought-provoking picture with themes of mental health, religion, and trauma, The Bone Temple might be your jam. But if you want a terrifying zombie flick that’s gonna keep you awake at night? This ain’t it.

This is the end of the spoiler-free section. There are major narrative spoilers for the 28 Days Later saga – including The Bone Temple – from here on out.

I said last time that I hoped The Bone Temple would find a way to narratively justify the “Jimmies;” the gang of Jimmy Savile impersonators who showed up right at the end of 28 Years Later. I was worried that this choice was made purely for shock value rather than because the creative team actually had something to say… and I feel like I was, unfortunately, right about that.

Jimmy Savile was one of the worst criminals in the history of this country, and it’s appalling that he was able to get away with it, with his crimes only being uncovered after his death. Any film that chooses to lean into any aspect of Savile really has to justify why it wants to do so, why it needs to bring up those memories and what it wants to say about his offending and the establishment that covered it up. And for me, The Bone Temple really didn’t have much to say about any of that.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing the Jimmy gang — The Jimmies.

Was it ironic, in a sickening sort of way, that the leader of the Jimmies was a literal Satan-worshipper? I mean, sure, I guess. But Satanism is a pretty basic horror trope, and in a story that doesn’t lean on the supernatural very much, it almost feels out of place. I get it: this is a commentary on the nature of trauma, and especially how traumatic events in childhood – and a lack of support – can shape a person’s mental health and their outlook on life. Jimmy was a young boy when the rage virus outbreak occurred, and his inability to process that trauma – combined with having to scrounge for survival in a post-apocalyptic world – contributed to his mental illness. At least, that’s how I think we’re meant to read the character.

And there is something to be said about how folks who experienced traumatic events in childhood can reach for something that feels safe – a character, a TV series, a celebrity. Jimmy clearly did that, not only with Jimmy Savile, but also with the Teletubbies, a kids’ TV show that was referenced a couple of times in the film. Because 28 Days Later establishes that the viral outbreak happened circa 2002, Savile’s crimes would never have come to light in this world. Again, that makes sense narratively.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Jimmy — Sir Lord Jimmy.

But, as with the naked zombies, it isn’t enough for something to be logical in the confines of its world – it has to have meaning to us as the audience. And yes, it’s profoundly ironic that someone would consider Jimmy Savile, of all people, a heroic figure, someone “safe,” or anything like that. And it’s a weird kind of critique, I guess, of Savile’s own offending. But does that explain and justify this presentation? Because it feels, to me, like the point was to shock, the point was to be as offensive as possible. Being offensive has decades of precedent in horror – from the rape in Rosemary’s Baby to the gore of The Human Centipede. But when it’s done purely to offend, purely to shock, and without any real narrative justification, nor for any real reason… it feels gratuitous. And that’s how the Jimmies felt to me: gratuitous.

28 Years Later focused on young Spike, and his journey as he left his safe home for the first time to venture into the fallen world beyond. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect that The Bone Temple would pick up Spike’s story – and it did, for a few minutes at the beginning, but Spike felt sidelined a lot of the time; less a driving force behind events than someone swept along in the wake of other characters. We got a few moments from Spike’s perspective as he tried to escape from the gang, but the film largely had its focus elsewhere.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Spike — *28 Years Later* had been Spike’s story. *The Bone Temple* was not.

The Bone Temple draws on 28 Days Later’s introduction of the rage virus, which began in an animal testing lab, suggesting that there’s a psychological component to the infection. This story, told from the perspective of Dr Kelson, was perhaps the film’s strongest element – even if I wouldn’t have expected it to be at first! We gradually saw Dr Kelson dosing Samson – the “alpha” infected – with morphine, stripping away some of the most extreme effects of the infection.

This culminated in Dr Kelson’s research into anti-psychotic drugs, which he gave to Samson, finally allowing his mind to break free of at least part of the infection for a time. As an analogy for mental illness and mental health conditions, this is interesting. I myself manage a mental health condition with medication, and I don’t object to the way Dr Kelson and Samson were presented in The Bone Temple. If anything, I find it interesting that, of all things, a zombie film would draw this kind of comparison or create this kind of metaphor for mental health. It’s something that has to be handled with care; there’s a fine line between saying “we’ll explore themes of mental health” and inadvertently leaning into harmful tropes and tired old clichés. But speaking for myself, I think The Bone Temple broadly stayed on the right side of that line.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Kelson — Dr Kelson, researching anti-psychotic drugs.

The Bone Temple underperformed at the box office, and may make either a small loss or barely break even, depending on exact figures after video-on-demand and streaming are accounted for. Because of that, it’s recently been suggested that plans for a sequel are no longer certain. With this being part two of three, ending on somewhat of a cliffhanger, and with themes and storylines unresolved… that would be a real shame. Particularly when it comes to Dr Kelson’s apparent breakthrough in terms of understanding the rage virus, and the interesting real-world parallels it draws on, I think a conclusion is pretty important. But them’s the breaks in the entertainment industry, sometimes.

I’d like to pick out a couple of performances that I felt were particularly strong in The Bone Temple.

First, we have Erin Kellyman, who played one of the Jimmies – later revealing that her character’s name was Kellie. Kellyman, who I’d seen before in The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, as well as Solo: A Star Wars Story, put in a really great performance as the conflicted member of the gang, simultaneously believing Jimmy’s claims about “Old Nick,” and remaining sceptical.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Jimmy Ink — Kellie – a.k.a. Jimmy Ink.

Then we have Ralph Fiennes. Fiennes may be known to some of you as Voldemort, though he’s a prolific actor who’s played a lot of other roles, including in 2024’s Conclave. I found his take on Dr Kelson to be incredible – nuanced, interesting, and with flashes of history and emotion that kept a genuinely odd character feeling human and grounded. Fiennes captured Dr Kelson’s eccentricities perfectly, but also his humanity, too. The sequence where he sat and talked with Jimmy was definitely one of the highlights of the whole film.

And, of course, we can’t mention Ralph Fiennes and Dr Kelson without talking about *that* iconic Iron Maiden sequence! I went through a heavy metal phase as a teen, and I got really into bands like Judas Priest and Iron Maiden. The Number of the Beast is a classic, really leaning into the idea that heavy metal was, well, “the devil’s music,” and I felt this sequence in The Bone Temple really captured that ’80s heavy metal feel. Ralph Fiennes was absolutely exceptional through it all, and the music made the whole sequence feel otherworldly and intense in the best way possible.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Kelson's performance — Dr Kelson’s Iron Maiden sequence was incredible.

One thing that The Bone Temple did quite well was convey how brutal the post-apocalypse can be. We saw a few different groups and individuals, some of whom were hunters, foragers, or scavengers – but all struggling to survive. The Jimmies are kind of the embodiment of the chaos of survival in this kind of environment: lawless, brutally violent, incredibly aggressive, and dominated by the strong will of a single leader. That isn’t a unique concept; many post-apocalyptic stories feature similar gangs, from The Walking Dead’s Saviors to Fallout’s Legion. But that side of it was well-executed here.

There was an interesting contrast between how the people at the farm lived with how the Jimmies and Dr Kelson lived. The farm group – and, at the very end, Jim and his daughter, too – seemed determined to reclaim at least some elements of pre-apocalypse life, with a well-kept home, fences, padlocks, and hot food cooked in a kitchen. The contrast this presented was stark, and it shows the difference between how different groups might respond to this kind of total societal collapse. In the absence of Spike’s hometown and the folks he had to leave behind in the previous instalment, these characters stood in for the – for want of a better term – more “normal” denizens of post-apocalyptic Britain.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing the farm — The farm.

I mentioned Jim, so let’s talk about the film’s closing sequence. Jim was the protagonist of 28 Days Later, and it was great to welcome back Cillian Murphy to the role – albeit that Jim didn’t get a ton of screen time this time around. A zombie glimpsed in 28 Years Later bore a striking resemblance to Jim, and I wasn’t alone in speculating that the zombie’s appearance might’ve been the film’s way of conveying that Jim had finally been defeated by the rage virus. I’m glad to see that wasn’t the case!

Jim having a daughter certainly seems to imply that he and Selena continued their relationship beyond the events of the first film. I wonder if Selena is planned to be a major character if the next instalment were to get off the ground? I liked seeing Jim apparently quite settled, doing what he could to preserve a sense of pre-apocalypse normalcy for his daughter. Their appearances raise a lot of questions; I just hope that answers will, one day, arrive.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Jim and his daughter — Jim and his daughter.

As Samson’s cocktail of drugs helped him come around from his years-long infection, we got an interesting flashback-come-coma-dream sequence of him on a train. This was especially creative, I felt, showing how memories were slowly coming to the surface. It led into one of the film’s only real jump-scares, as the conductor’s face seemed to morph into that of an infected zombie. That was probably the only moment in the film that I could say genuinely caught me off-guard.

Again, though, Samson’s story ends with unanswered questions. Without access to more drugs – both morphine and antipsychotics – will he remain free of the virus and in control of his faculties? Was his status as an “alpha” infected part of what made him susceptible to treatment? With Dr Kelson dead, is there *anyone* left in the area who could carry on his work – or even understand it? All of these points should be addressed… but only if a sequel is forthcoming, which, as mentioned, may no longer be guaranteed.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Samson — Samson on the train.

How do we feel about Satanism as a plot point? I get where it was coming from, and I think Jack O’Connell made for a really interesting and complex antagonist. There were points where I genuinely couldn’t tell whether he believed in “Old Nick” for certain, whether he was wavering in his belief, or even if he’d been faking some of it to maintain control over his gang. That kind of presentation is not easy to get right, and O’Connell deserves a lot of credit – as does Nia DaCosta’s direction.

However… I can’t help but feel that falling back on Satanism – literally one of the oldest tropes in the horror movie or shocking story playbook – feels anything other than cheap. As a critique of religious cults and overbearing leaders, I get it. And I think the character side of it worked reasonably well… Jimmy Savile aside. But Satanism itself, while it worked with some of the imagery and the music, just feels a bit played out and clichéd for a story like this. I think part of what made the Jimmy Savile stuff feel so underwhelming and like it was being played for pure outrage bait is the Satanism angle; perhaps The Bone Temple needed to pick one or the other. The story might’ve worked better if it hadn’t tried to have the gang do both.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing Jimmy's crucifixion — The film used a lot of Satanic imagery.

I think that’s where we’ll start to wrap things up.

The Bone Temple was an interesting film. But it wasn’t a great film, and as the continuation of a sequel I’d been very interested in for some twenty years or so… I think I have to say that it came up short. There were creative ideas in the mix, but some of them felt tropey, others felt like they were done purely to shock and offend, and while the film’s core themes and some of its characters worked well, there are enough downsides and drawbacks to consider it an imperfect motion picture.

I would recommend The Bone Temple to fans of last year’s instalment. But for anyone else – general horror fans, zombie connoisseurs, and even fans of 28 Days Later from back in 2002 – I’m not so sure. If it comes on streaming or it’s on TV one day and you’ve got nothing to lose by checking it out, then sure. I made it to the end, it killed a couple of hours, and I didn’t need to switch off partway through. But I can’t shake the feeling that such an iconic and genre-redefining work as 28 Days Later deserved better than this. And if it’s true, as has been suggested, that no sequel will be coming? The Bone Temple ends with Spike, Kellie, and Jim’s stories all incomplete.

Still frame from 28 Years Later The Bone Temple showing a zombie — Will there be a sequel?

I’m a big ol’ scaredy-cat when it comes to horror. So if Trekking with Dennis, of all people, is saying that a film wasn’t all that scary… then it genuinely wasn’t all that scary. So if what you want is a horror film to give you nightmares and take you to the edge of your seat, I don’t think you get that from The Bone Temple. I certainly didn’t. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t interesting ideas in the mix, fun character moments, and a pretty epic heavy metal song sequence to cap it all off. A mixed bag.

Earlier this year I reviewed a very different film: The SpongeBob Movie: Search for SquarePants. Click or tap here to check that out if you’re interested! And if you want to see a handful of titles that are on my radar as 2026 rolls along, click or tap here to see those. I’d like to review a few more films this year, though probably not too many in the horror genre – at least, not till October! And I have plans to check out a few TV programmes and video games, too. I hope you’ll join me for some of that here on the website.

Until next time… and don’t have nightmares!

28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is available to purchase now on video-on-demand via Amazon and other platforms. 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple is the copyright of Columbia Pictures and/or Sony Pictures Releasing. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.

Civil War: Film Review

Sun 18.08.24Dennis

The first part of this review is free from major story spoilers. The end of the spoiler-free section is clearly marked.

Civil War is a film I’d been looking forward to in 2024. It seemed like a picture that had the potential to be serious and timely – and perhaps the kind of film that could’ve ended up as a dark horse when awards season rolls around! While I’m not sure that Alex Garland’s tale of a fractured America quite reached that level, it was an interesting watch nevertheless.

War films can often be brutal in their depictions of violence, as can post-apocalyptic fiction. Civil War leaned into both of these genres at different times, using established tropes of both – while occasionally putting its own spin on some of them. By presenting the violent nature of a dystopian world and the harsh realities of war through the lenses of unarmed journalists, Civil War could feel tense, frightening, and dark. Its four principal characters could often feel vulnerable; caught in an environment where survival was the most important thing – but without any kind of weapon save their press badges.

Promotional poster for Civil War (2024). — A cropped poster for *Civil War*.

Civil War was also a film that didn’t have the political edge that I was expecting. Given the events of the past few years in the United States – deepening political polarisation, the January 6th insurrection, and so on – I was worried that Civil War might come across as preachy; arguing in favour of one party or candidate over another. Instead, the film basically ignored the president, the causes of the war, and even the soldiers fighting in it for the most part, keeping a tight focus on its journalist protagonists. I can see both sides of this argument, and when we get into spoilers we’ll talk a bit more about politics and possible analogies to current events. But for now, suffice to say that the film was far more interested in the journeys of individual characters rather than taking a wider look at societal divisions and the potential causes of a civil war in the United States.

In fact, one character in particular was front-and-centre, even when the story wasn’t being told from her perspective. Golden Globe-nominated actress Cailee Spaeny took on the role of Jessie, a young photographer who tags along with the more experienced journalists in the group. And to me, Civil War feels like her story – a tale of a young person experiencing the brutal realities of a world torn apart by war, losing her naivety or innocence as she journeys deeper into the warzone. The concept of a character’s growth and changes being reflected in a real-world journey from one place to another is something war films like Apocalypse Now have used to great effect. Civil War does something similar as Jessie’s transformation from fresh-faced wannabe to battle-hardened veteran journalist plays out.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing the character of Jessie. — *Civil War* is really Jessie’s story.

Civil War feels like a modern film thanks in part to its soundtrack. Silence is used to great effect at a couple of key moments, but the juxtaposition of upbeat pop tracks with some of the imagery of war – or the eeriness of locales unaffected by the conflict – is something we’ve seen other modern titles do. There’s something unsettling about hearing some of these tracks playing as the film is rolling on – and that was exactly the director’s intention.

So I think that’s all I can say for now without getting into story spoilers. If you haven’t seen the film and don’t want to know what happens – including at the very end – then this is your chance to jump ship! If you’re ready to get into narrative spoilers, though, stick with me and we’ll dissect Civil War in more depth.

This is the end of the spoiler-free section of the review. There are story spoilers from here on out!

First of all, I’m surprised at how little attention Civil War paid to the conflict at its core. Perhaps this is a result of the film’s marketing emphasising the secession of certain states and the fictional backdrop to the war, but I really expected to get a lot more about the different factions involved, some indication of the root cause or causes of these apparently separate breakaway states, and what led to all-out war being declared. There was very little about this in the film itself, yet that side of it was definitely hyped up in pre-release marketing material.

Such a storyline could easily descend into arguments about modern politics, and from that point of view I can see why writer and director Alex Garland may have chosen to side-step the issue. Civil War is ambiguous enough that both sides of the aisle in American politics could project themselves onto the rebels and their opponents onto the seemingly corrupt and unpopular president – and that may have been the intention. However, it also opens up the film to a different kind of criticism – that it isn’t political enough. If there’s a message about the danger of corrupt politicians, or a politician attempting to usurp democracy for their own ends, why not be bold and call them out – if not by name then with a more obvious analogy?

Photo from the premiere of Civil War (2024) showing star Kirsten Dunst and director Alex Garland. — Kirsten Dunst and director Alex Garland at the film’s premiere.
*Image Credit: IMDB*

That being said, I personally read Civil War’s president as being based on or inspired by Donald Trump. The brief mention of the president having sought a third term, the way in which he was made up to look – for want of a better term – more orange and with more fake tan, the way he spoke in such exaggerated terms at the beginning of the film, and actor Nick Offerman’s mannerisms all led me to that conclusion. The president was not a major figure in the film, appearing briefly at the beginning and the end only, but he was an important character and seemingly the main cause or at least a major contributor to what had gone wrong in America.

Despite the president’s death at the end of the film not being presented as a particularly heroic moment – from our protagonists’ perspective, at any rate – I can’t help but wonder if there’s a degree of fantasising or wish-casting in the way those final moments unfolded. Some politicians – Trump in particular – evoke incredibly strong feelings, and I daresay that Alex Garland wouldn’t be the first person to fantasise about storming the White House and having him killed.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing the deposed President of the United States. — *Civil War’*s unnamed president at the end of the film.

Let’s stick with this idea of the film as a “fantasy,” because I think the backstory of Civil War speaks to a curiously American kind of narrative. The idea of a “rag-tag” group of rebels being able to take on and defeat the incumbent government is a trope of American filmmaking and American storytelling in general. And it’s easy to see why: the United States was founded in such circumstances, when a group of colonists fought against the biggest and most powerful empire of their time to win their independence. Ever since, this notion of the virtuous rebel fighting against the corrupt establishment has been a core foundation of storytelling in America.

We see this theme in cinema – from the earliest films like 1916’s The Crisis through Star Wars’ Rebel Alliance and beyond, continuing into the present day. The conflict in the background of Civil War is very much in this American tradition of rebellion, and underdogs taking the fight to the powers that be. In the 18th Century that might’ve worked… but it’s a total fantasy in today’s world, where UAVs can drop bombs on even the most well-organised militia at a second’s notice. Civil War tried to sidestep what is a pretty glaring narrative flaw for any story that wishes to appear realistic. It does so by ignoring the buildup to the conflict and its early days, showing only the final, climactic battle as rebel forces storm Washington DC. Does that work? Does that contrivance overcome the inherent impossibility of the film’s premise? I’m not convinced – but I’m also not convinced that it matters all that much in a story that’s primarily about a handful of characters and their response to the war. The war itself is the catalyst, not the focus – if it were, this premise would trip up the story a whole lot more.

Behind-the-scenes photo from Civil War (2024) showing director Alex Garland and star Kirsten Dunst. — Director Alex Garland with Kirsten Dunst in a behind-the-scenes photo.

We talked about Jessie’s journey in the spoiler-free section, and how she changed over the course of the film. Even though Civil War wasn’t always shot from her point of view, I see it as really being her story. The other journalists in the group were more or less fixed characters – they saw horrible things, including the death of their friends – but they didn’t undergo the same transformation as Jessie did. In that sense, Civil War is her story more than anyone else’s.

The character of Lee was interesting – but I would argue that Civil War didn’t give her the in-depth look that it really needed to. Lee’s story seemed to be one of post-traumatic stress, and how a character that everyone thought was emotionless and detached was actually suffering on the inside, but struggling to tell anyone. Her interactions with Jessie came closest to hinting at that, but no one else really picked up on what was going on inside Lee’s mind. As the audience, we got to see it – literally, through the use of some creative camera work and sound design that pulled Lee out of the action at a few key moments, and that used stretched-out colours to symbolise the damage that trauma was doing to her. But the film didn’t really expand upon this; we saw it, but Lee’s travelling companions never did. Right up to the moment of her death, Lee was left alone with her struggle.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing the character of Lee during a flashback. — The topic of Lee’s mental health was raised but never really addressed by other characters in the film.

And perhaps that’s part of the point: Lee represents the kind of person Jessie is becoming. Through her, we catch a glimpse of Jessie’s future – one of trauma and silent struggle. She wanted to be a war photographer no matter what, and Lee shows us what Jessie will become at the end of that road.

One thing I didn’t like, speaking of photography, was how Jessie used an old film camera. Film might be the preference of a few hipsters and artists, but in a fast-paced medium like journalism, it really doesn’t have much of a place any more. As Lee remarks to Jessie at one point in Civil War, only one photo out of every few dozen is a keeper – and when a roll of film might let Jessie take 32 photographs… that’s one usable picture per roll. There’s also the process of developing the negatives and so on… and it just felt like an unrealistic and unnecessary inclusion. Civil War itself was shot on digital cameras, which I think is worth noting. If the director had a preference for film or wanted to make a point about film being somehow “better” than digital… well, it starts to look a bit silly. It doesn’t make a lot of sense in-universe for a character intent on becoming a war photographer to rely on film in a world where digital cameras exist, and the story didn’t have much to say about it, either. It’s not like the film-versus-digital debate even really came up, nor served as a metaphor for something else.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing Jessie developing photographs. — Jessie used a film camera for seemingly no real reason.

Parts of Civil War felt like a road trip – and indeed the film’s working title was “Road Trip” when it first entered production. We caught little glimpses of the film’s post-apocalyptic-inspired world as our characters drove from place to place, with things like random fires, furniture dragged outdoors, and abandoned vehicles on the highway all having become tropes of post-apocalyptic fiction. Civil War leaned into this with some of its secondary characters – the group at the gas station and the racist soldiers in particular. There was a lawlessness to the world that these characters successfully embodied, and the occasional moments of light-heartedness that Civil War gave to its main characters were ripped away in brutal fashion as the reality of the world they now inhabited hit them.

Even when there were moments of joy, playfulness, or a visit to a town that the war seemed to have passed by, there was still a distinct eerie sensation in the air that things weren’t right and our characters were in danger. Civil War used this quite well, meaning that even when the main characters let their hair down or found themselves relaxed, the feeling of danger was never very far away. Even the moments where nothing bad happened – such as at the refugee encampment or in the quaint little town – that sensation was always present. In a way, parts of Civil War almost developed a psychological horror tone, where the sense of danger never fully let up. Any background character, shopkeeper, driver, soldier, or whoever felt like they could be a potential risk.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing a suburban house. — Visiting this town, untouched by the conflict, still felt tense and even a little creepy.

It’s relatively unusual for a film to make photographers and journalists into its protagonists. All four main characters expressed different degrees of detachment from the conflict they were documenting, as if they had no real political leanings or views on the war. There was some initial criticism of the president – particularly from Sammy at the beginning of the film – but the others mostly avoided sharing their thoughts or opinions. We tend to see journalists in this way, as being impartial observers – even though many of them aren’t! But it made for an interesting viewpoint for a war film to take – particularly for a film that, as mentioned above, didn’t really go into much detail about what had happened or why this conflict was raging.

Civil War had some creative cinematography and camera work that leaned into quite an artistic style. Shots would linger over things like a sprinkler spraying water or an empty road, as well as use exaggerated or faded-out colours to depict Lee’s mental state. The camera would also fade to a grainy black-and-white at times, representing the way Jessie’s photographs would look. I liked most of these, and they felt tasteful and creative without being overused. The long shot of Jessie falling into the mass grave was also particularly well done.

Still frame from Civil War (2024) showing abandoned cars on a road. — Abandoned vehicles on the highway.

So that was Civil War. It was an intense, brutal film – but one that didn’t have the political edge I’d been expecting. That made it more interesting in some ways as a work of characterisation and a road trip movie through an interesting series of war-torn environments, but it rendered much of the potential social commentary rather impotent. However, by leaving the causes of its war ambiguous, Civil War allows its audience to reflect on the consequences of such a conflict regardless of who may have been “right,” which is arguably a more important message given the political polarisation that has been present for years in the United States.

For my part, I enjoyed Civil War. It’s rare these days for a film to stick in my mind for hours and days after I’ve watched it, but I found a few of Civil War’s most intense sequences playing in my head on repeat after only watching it a single time.

There were some great acting performances from the entire main cast, special effects that hit the mark and didn’t get in the way, creative cinematography and sound design, and all in all, an interesting narrative that hooked me in and kept me engaged throughout. Definitely one to watch if you haven’t seen it already!

Civil War is available now on video-on-demand on Apple TV and Amazon Prime. Civil War will be available for streaming on Max in September 2024 and may also be released on DVD/Blu-ray at a later date. This review contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.