'Civil War' review: Terrifying dystopian thriller depicts an America in flames

America is at war with itself in "Civil War," a deeply unsettling action thriller that takes a hard look at our current national divide and presents a bone-chilling worst case scenario vision.

But writer-director Alex Garland isn't playing favorites or drawing lines between red and blue. The filmmaker, whose works have grown more challenging and inflammatory with each subsequent outing, leaves traditional politics at a distance and focuses on the chaos of a war-torn state. The result is a breathless, disturbing and terrifying ride into a nightmare America, all the more frightening since it unfolds in a world that doesn't seem too far removed from our own.

Garland, whose previous outings dealt with the threats of A.I. ("Ex Machina"), the destruction of the environment ("Annihilation") and, well, the problematic nature of the male species ("Men"), tells this story through a group of journalists, led by veteran war photographer Lee (Kirsten Dunst) and her colleague Joel (Wagner Moura). They're in New York and plan to head to Washington, D.C., a trip that should take a few hours, but will take them a couple of days because of the tumultuous state of the country.

America has broken into all-out conflict, and we're given the particulars in small doses. Texas and California have seceded from the union, the "Florida Alliance" is presenting an oppositional force, and there are references to an "Antifa massacre," air strikes against U.S. citizens and the disbandment of the FBI.

The Western Forces, which have their own two-star flag, are looking to topple the government, and have descended upon Washington, D.C., where they intend to kidnap and potentially kill the President (Nick Offerman), who is in his third term in office and is only seen in fleeting glimpses. Lee and Joel intend to make it to D.C. to interview the President before the White House is overthrown.

They don't make the trip alone. They're joined by Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson), a veteran journalist, and Jessie ("Priscilla's" Cailee Spaeny), a young photographer who looks up to Lee. They're extra baggage, and the trip will already be difficult enough without them, but a frustrated Lee agrees to go along with the plan.

On the road — they're forced to travel 850 miles through western Pennsylvania, down through West Virginia and up through Charlottesville — they encounter abandoned highways, burning forests and a downed helicopter in a JCPenney parking lot. Gun-toting civilians have taken over rural towns. The U.S. dollar is dead, and Canadian currency is treated like gold. Gas is only sold to those with a permit, and the price is up to the whims of those selling it. Dissenters of those in power are tortured, strung up and hung from highway overpasses. Lawlessness reigns.

In short, it's anarchy, an us vs. them with no clear us or them. At one abandoned drive through Christmas display, their press vehicle is riddled with gunshots, and they encounter two parties locked in a firefight. "No one is giving us orders," one of the men explains. "Someone's trying to kill us, we're trying to kill them."

Within this state of division, Lee takes on Jessie as her pupil, and the group of four form a sort of makeshift family. They camp in tent cities, quietly mourning what's left of America, just as Garland does.

While the East Coast burns, there are pockets of the country where everything is seemingly honky dory. Lee and Jessie both remark that their parents, who reside in Colorado and Missouri, respectively, are living their lives with their heads buried in the sand, pretending nothing is happening. And they pass through one small town where everything appears to be normal — they encounter a disinterested clerk at a tiny clothing boutique who basically says she doesn't follow the news — but even there, the streets are overseen by men with guns.

Dunst and Spaeny, as the grizzled veteran and the young cub reporter, are superb in their roles, dialing into the mentor-mentee dynamics of their relationship, and Dunst is especially hardened by her character's experiences. An uncredited Jesse Plemons pops up in an intensely upsetting scene that highlights the core of racism in the conflict at hand, asking the group at gunpoint, "what kind of American are you?" (Plemons, who is one of our best wild card actors, is able to play sweet, aloof and menacingly evil all with equal conviction; he's a master chameleon, and you're never quite sure what you're going to get out of him as an actor, which is what makes him such a combustible presence.)

Garland keeps tensions high while building toward a riveting white knuckle finale, staging "Civil War" as an action movie with a sickened conscience. His movie is designed not to please but to provoke, and it captures a world turned upside down with the same remove as a war photographer's camera. What it depicts is up to the viewer to interpret for themselves: While the result isn't pretty, it's impossible to look away.

agraham@detroitnews.com

'Civil War'

GRADE: B+

Rated R: for strong violent content, bloody/disturbing images, and language throughout

Running time: 109 minutes

In theaters