In the 2014 film “Ex Machina,” director Alex Garland offered a chilling forecast of a future dominated by unchecked artificial intelligence. The groundbreaking sci-fi thriller prompted us to consider what happens when such technology is developed by an unscrupulous narcissist who sidesteps profound ethical quandaries. The film was both prescient and clear in its warnings: Be wary of concentrated power and take precautions to prevent such a catastrophe.
A decade later, “Civil War,” Garland’s latest dystopian offering, threads a similar cautionary tale, but with key differences. This time, the calamity is unfolding and its catalysts are largely unexplored.
The film’s vagueness has elicited mixed — yet strikingly similar — reactions across the political spectrum. On the left, critics accuse the film of “utter cowardice” and betraying audiences for not denouncing MAGA. Meanwhile, the right blasts the film for overlooking the “socialist, anarchist” roots of our divisions and its treatment of the media. Alas, both sides are essentially making the same argument by demanding that Hollywood vindicate their respective worldviews.
This isn’t just horseshoe theory. Social science teaches us this need for validation, known as confirmation bias, is endemic to the human condition. In this vein, central to “Civil War” is its auteur’s belief that Republicans and Democrats are more alike than partisans care to admit. The film is more concerned with probing the underlying psychology, incentives and structures that could precipitate a national cataclysm than it is with scapegoating individual politicians or the ideologies they champion as intellectual scaffolding. This approach may not flatter our partisan biases, but it offers a more truthful — and cinematically superior — alternative to more simplistic counterparts.
Like William Wyler’s portrayal of post–World War II America and Sergio Leone’s reinvention of the Western, “Civil War” follows the tradition of incisive commentaries on American life filtered through a foreign lens. The British Garland, himself the son of a newsman, seems especially interested in political journalism’s role in our decay. The film is hardly coy about this — it begins and ends at the nexus of media and politics in Washington. If Garland were to expose the Beltway any more explicitly, he would literally have to hold up a mirror to it in a cameo.
These bookends invite us to scrutinize the role of the “Grift Industrial Complex” — the sordid ecosystem of fame-first politicians and their networks of online influencers and clickbait media platforms — in eroding our politics and culture. With the help of social media companies, those at the top profit handsomely off the paranoia, resentment and pervasive sense of victimhood they cultivate among their audiences.
Their exploitation is particularly troubling, not only because of the psychological harm it inflicts, but because a victimhood mentality inherently requires an aggressor. Viewing the other half of the country as enemies rather than as neighbors with differing opinions sets the stage for animosity.
One of the film’s most critical insights is that hatred leads to asking others “what kind of Americans” they are. In fairness, the nation may already be lost if significant numbers despise their countrymen on account of a few grifters. But you don’t have to believe we’re on the brink of an armed internal conflict to see the prudence in pumping the brakes.
In addition to muting, unfollowing and unsubscribing, a critical first step is recognizing that the Grift Industrial Complex thrives on the demise of institutions. This underscores the urgent need for people of good conscience within ostensibly nonpartisan organizations to reassert their independence, exercise restraint and resist indulging in divisive ideological projects.
In theory, our system is built to withstand self-interest and audience capture, but, as Madison famously argued in Federalist No. 10, a republican form of government is crucial for mitigating their effects. Much of our dysfunction — evident in real life and implied in “Civil War” — is rooted in the outsized influence of the federal government, especially the executive branch. Why else would the film’s fictional president go to such extreme lengths to secure a blatantly unconstitutional third term, if not for its expansive reach?
Politics should matter in a healthy society, but not that much. As the son of Cuban exiles, I’ve seen what happens when every facet of life becomes politicized, and it isn’t pretty. We should heed the film’s call for introspection and turn our attention inward — to our communities, houses of worship, families, friends and civic associations as better sources of meaning in life than the dopamine kicks we derive from D.C.’s made-for-Twitter controversies
For all the argument about “Civil War,” its most profound lesson — one that movie studios will certainly appreciate — is relatively simple: We should tune out the outrage hustlers, put down our phones and spend more time sharing experiences with fellow Americans, like enjoying movies, instead of fighting over politics. By doing so, we can begin to heal the wounds that Garland vividly portrays in his haunting depiction of our fractured nation.
Giancarlo Sopo is the founder of Visto Media and cultural writer. Follow him @GiancarloSopo.