Warfare

There have been anti-bellicose films since the early days of cinema. You can trace a throughline from All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), to Paths of Glory (1957), and Platoon (1986). As the U. S. has extracted itself from decades-long wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, more reflective films have started to emerge on those conflicts. While we've seen some modern anti-bellicose films like The Hurt Locker (2008), the genre has more often leaned toward propagandistic works such as Lone Survivor (2013), 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi (2016), or 12 Strong (2018). With time and distance, however, a more nuanced perspective is developing-one less interested in glorification or recruitment. We now see stories exploring overlooked aspects, such as the treatment of translators in Guy Ritchie's The Covenant (2023), and more recently, the visceral helplessness felt by soldiers in Warfare (2025).

Warfare attempts to recreate, as faithfully as possible, a harrowing day in 2006 during the Battle of Ramadi, when a platoon of Navy SEALs was pinned down in a building. The platoon includes commander Erik (Will Poulter), head of comms Ray (D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai), sniper Elliot (Cosmo Jarvis), and soldiers Sam (Joseph Quinn) and Macdonald (Michael Gandolfini), among others.

Directed by Alex Garland, following his similarly themed Civil War (2024), and co-directed by Ray Mendoza-one of the real soldiers portrayed in the film (played by Woon-A-Tai)-Warfare adopts a stripped-down, technical approach. There is no soundtrack to steer viewers' emotions, no hand-holding through military jargon, and minimal expository dialogue about the characters or their mission. We're dropped into a scenario where the soldiers are tasked with securing a compound as an observation post, and from there, the situation escalates-their primary objective quickly becoming sheer survival.

With Garland's sharp directorial style and Mendoza's commitment to authenticity, Warfare avoids portraying the U. S. military as a glorified, video-game-like experience. The first act centers on the monotony of war-our characters mostly wait, bored but hyper-aware. When combat finally breaks out, Garland keeps the camera locked inside the house, emphasizing a suffocating sense of claustrophobia. Brief drone thermal images occasionally orient the viewer, but for the most part, the firefight is disorienting and tense. The soldiers fire out blindly, unsure if their shots land, spending most of their time hunkered down. A significant portion of the film focuses on the gruesome injuries sustained and the frantic, desperate efforts of fellow platoon members. Ideology fades quickly, replaced by a primal will to survive.

However, Warfare does fall into a familiar trap of many American war films: it centers the suffering of U. S. soldiers while sidelining the pain of local civilians and collaborators. In the film, the platoon occupies the home of two Iraqi families, who are forcibly confined to a single room and largely ignored. Only in a final lingering shot do we see an acknowledgment of their experience, but by then, they feel like shallow afterthoughts rather than co-victims. Similarly, the local translators embedded with the platoon are given short shrift. Though the film briefly shows them being dismissed, berated, and even used as human shields during an evacuation, this disturbing thread is dropped and never revisited. It's a missed opportunity, especially when contrasted with Guy Ritchie's The Covenant, which centers its narrative around the complex relationships between soldiers and translators. The idea that Warfare is "only about the American soldiers" doesn't excuse this neglect-just a few more scenes could have offered a more balanced and humane perspective.

The cast features an ensemble of rising stars-almost like a who's-who list of "Top 10 Actors to Watch." Poulter, Quinn, and Jarvis shine with charisma despite limited character development. Charles Melton also impresses in a small but commanding role. Some of the other actors, however, feel a bit green: Woon-A-Tai seems out of his depth at times, and Gandolfini's range still feels confined to familiar "wise guy" territory. That said, the film's focus on physical endurance and survivalism means deep character work isn't central, and more instinctual, visceral performances prove effective.

Warfare is a compelling anti-bellicose film, grounded in technical precision and immersive tension. Its dedication to realism and its refusal to glamorize war are commendable. While the marginalization of civilians and translators remains a significant flaw, the film succeeds in offering a grim, unflinching look at modern combat-a soldier-centric, rightfully distressing experience.

It starts light. Almost like a joke.

Young soldiers, full of swagger, testosterone, and nervous energy, dropped into a foreign neighborhood with gear, guns, and no real plan. You think you know where it's going.

Then it tightens. Hard.

Alex Garland's Warfare isn't a typical war film. It's a mirror. A slow-burn portrait of occupation - show up, seize control, provoke chaos, and leave. It doesn't lecture. It just sits with you. Uncomfortably.

They're foreign soldiers holding civilians in their own home at gunpoint, surrounded by a community trying to push them out. Whether the locals are rescuers or rebels depends on your perspective - and Garland refuses to give you one.

There's no soaring score. No rousing speeches. Just dust, dread, a spectacle of force and the weight of presence. It's not about winning.

It's a loud reflection of the post-9/11 playbook: arrive with guns, destabilize everything, leave behind blood and rubble. Sound familiar?

As the invaded family ask of the US military. Why? Why did you do this? What was all this about? And it's a good question and not a criticism of the film in anyway. Maybe that was part of the point of it all. Although the congratulatory credits footage confuses that angle as we get to meet the real perpetrators of the events of the film.

I was on board with the who futility of war, the meaningless nature of the soldiers taking over a random house, smashing down walls and taking captive the innocent families that live there and then having to defend themselves from attacks caused by the act of taking over a random house, hey how about just don't take the house, right?

That seemed like a poignant message and if left at that then we've got ourselves a film with a solid message, but then we get the actual soldiers taking photos on the set with the actors and smiling, and the message about thanks for always answering the call" and well maybe we're all just imagining there's a lesson learned here at all. You can't have a sobering film on the brutal insensitivity of the US Military and the pointless damage it inflicts on the innocent around the world and then go all hugs for the military bros as the credits roll, can you? It was a confusing message.

It was a well made movie, fantastic sound design. I just don't know what I'm supposed to take away from it, and maybe that's part of the point, the world is full of contradictions.

But I really did feel embarrassed and ashamed for the cruelty inflicted on the families we hardly saw in this film.

Super slow and quiet at the start then an eruption of chaos and gunfire without any kind of build up - typical Alex Garland films. Sound design and extra loud gunfire made it a very immersive experience. Some criticism of the film is that there was no story plot or character arcs but when the film ends, it's apparent that the Iraqis and the American soldiers are left with the trauma when everything suddenly stops and the violence has ended. Maybe gone are the days of entertainment war films and 'Warfare' makes people think about the nitty gritty details and what soldiers and civilians are left to deal with.

I despise films that glorify war. The swelling strings, the slow-motion salutes, the valour-for-the-sake-of-it nonsense - it's tired and tone-deaf. That's why 'Warfare', the latest and arguably best A24 film I've seen in a long while, floored me. This isn't some patriotic puff piece. It's raw, visceral, and deeply uncomfortable in all the right ways.

Co-directed by Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza (a former Navy SEAL whose real-life experience forms the backbone of the story), 'Warfare' drops you headfirst into the chaos of a mission gone sideways in 2006 Ramadi (Iraq). There's no time for character backstories or emotional flashbacks. You're in the dirt with these men, hearing the crack of gunfire, the ragged breathing, the frantic comms - every heartbeat of the film is felt in your chest. Real war, as this film so powerfully reminds us, isn't medals and glory. It's blood, guts, and a harrowing sense of hopelessness.

The cast - most notably D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, Cosmo Jarvis, and Will Poulter - bring a haunting realism to their roles. You don't watch them; you endure alongside them. And that's what elevates 'Warfare' into something more than cinema. It's an experience. A brutal, brilliantly made, and emotionally devastating experience.

Any loss of life in war is a failure - of diplomacy, of leadership, of humanity. This film doesn't flinch from that truth. It holds your gaze and says: look at what we do to each other.

A masterpiece. Uncompromising and unforgettable. If you can, see it in a theatre. The sound design alone is worth the ticket - each echoing explosion and muffled breath immerses you deeper into the dread-soaked trenches of reality. 'Warfare' doesn't just show war. It makes you feel every awful second of it.