Warfare

A Gripping War Story That Forgets Some of Its Victims

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.

7.6/10