Warfare Is a Technical Exercise That Thrives on Sensory Overload

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As a blistering exercise in sustained tension, Warfare works. As a depiction of the toll war takes on the body and soul, well, it’s pretty good at that, too. This collaboration from directors Alex Garland and retired Navy SEAL Ray Mendoza retains the immediacy of Garland’s previous work, the politically ambiguous but boldly executed Civil War (where Mendoza served as military supervisor), amplifying their flair for bombastic action without becoming mired in the valor and sentimentality—and, yes, politics—found in more traditional war movies. It seems that the further Garland strays from his sci-fi roots, with films like Ex Machina and Men addressing the wretched state of reality as a metaphor without directly confronting it, the more violence overshadows his knack for high concepts. Adrenaline fuels Warfare, not ideas. For a time, that’s all it needs.

The film reconstructs the accounts of Mendoza’s SEAL unit, who, in November 2006, were ordered to observe insurgent activity in a populated neighborhood in Ramadi Province, Iraq. Presented with remarkable precision, the details of the operation begin with their breach of a family home to establish a sniper’s nest and culminate in an ambush by unseen combatants, where all hell breaks loose. “This film uses only their memories,” we’re told, suggesting we are watching a narrative built from patchwork recollections—our cue to put some distance between fact and creative license. As the fight escalates into a real-time ordeal spanning roughly 90 minutes (the full runtime), the film pummels you with the grim realities of war, effectively dispelling this notion.

Like Civil War, Warfare isn’t concerned with the rationale behind its onscreen combat, only its function. Ideology doesn’t compel the soldiers who fought alongside Mendoza; orders do. Yet, Warfare can’t escape politics any more than Civil War could. People are guided by their own sense of morality, and their appreciation of any movie that examines human conflict—fictionalized or otherwise—will be influenced by these values. Audiences who were of voting or fighting age during the eight-year occupation of Iraq (from 2003 to 2011) keep strong opinions about the period and may have a few more regarding the film’s unflinching and grisly portrayal of what Mendoza has termed “just another day in Iraq.” The filmmakers acknowledge this and march forward. They present what occurred, not why. Our role is simply to observe.

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Warfare showcases a young battalion of actors whose convincing performances only just obscure their hunky, ready-for-socials appeal, which likely made A24’s marketing efforts easier: D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (as Mendoza), Will Poulter, Charles Melton, Joseph Quinn, Michael Gandolfini, Kit Connor, Cosmo Jarvis and others. The film’s promotion emphasizes their completion of a three-week SEAL course before shooting—a demanding commitment that shapes how they conduct themselves during the action scenes (persuasively) and highlights their respect for the soldiers they portray (completely). Their behind-the-scenes training also seems to have generated some much-needed camaraderie onscreen.

Warfare isn’t a hangout movie by any stretch, though its early moments enjoy instances of casual bro behavior. When we first meet these boys, they’re enjoying a workout video of shaking asses and flowing blond hair. (It’s not the only moment we observe them as the young men they are, but it is the only time we know they’re safe from immediate danger.) Later, a sniper requests a break to grab a fresh tin of chaw while another pisses in a bottle in full view of the others; when a morphine needle gets stuck in the wrong direction, the natural question follows: “Did you fuck up?” The comfort and care these guys show each other is expressed through body language more than dialogue, and the nuances given to each role—which could have become hopelessly stock with a lesser cast—make these characters stand out a mile.

Although Garland and Mendoza are careful not to glorify the subject matter with jingoistic pageantry, it is difficult not to be awed by the power of their images. Jets strafe the neighborhood at supersonic speed, creating tremendous waves of sand and debris in their wake, while Bradley Fighting Vehicles pummel everything in their sights. Its presentation superficially recalls the rigid procedural efficiency of Ridley Scott’s Black Hawk Down and Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker—though Garland’s zeal for genre fare peeks through here and there; once the soldiers are trapped and their enemies close in, suddenly Warfare shares the locked-in us-or-them sensation of 2012’s Dredd.

Warfare is a technical exercise that thrives on sensory overload, and eventually, the adrenaline fades. Here, war is disorienting and aimless—the only political stance Garland and Mendoza will freely take. By stripping its dramatic aspects down to their rawest nerves, Warfare leaves little for the audience to connect with beyond the visceral charge of battle; nobody shares a photo of their sweetheart or expresses hope about what they plan to do once their deployment ends. Even as our hearts break to see what these soldiers sacrifice, we don’t know them. Its coda offers even less in terms of closure, letting snapshots of Mendoza’s unit (some with their faces blurred) speak to how we might feel about the ordeal they endured on that fateful day in 2006, leaving the defense of why they were subjected to this agony in the first place to the historians and pundits. What comes after the gunfire stops, however briefly? Pride? Regret? Anger? Exultation? Garland and Mendoza leave us without an answer. They don’t need one.

Directors: Ray Mendoza, Alex Garland
Writers: Ray Mendoza, Alex Garland
Stars: D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, Will Poulter, Charles Melton, Cosmo Jarvis, Kit Connor, Finn Bennett, Taylor John Smith, Michael Gandolfini
Release date: April 11, 2025 (US); April 18, 2025 (UK)

Jarrod Jones is a freelance critic based in Chicago, with bylines at The A.V. Club, IGN, and any place that will take him, really. For more of his mindless thoughts on genre trash, cartoons, and comics, follow him on Twitter (@jarrodjones_) or check out his blog, DoomRocket.