‘Warfare’ – A Cinematic Descent Into the Heart of Combat

A24’s Warfare is not merely a film—it’s a instinctive, heart-pounding experience that catapults audiences into the chaotic, terrifying reality of a war zone. Directed by Alex Garland and Ray Mendoza, this 2025 masterpiece redefines the war genre, stripping away Hollywood’s gloss to deliver an unflinching, real-time portrayal of a 2006 Navy SEAL mission in Ramadi, Iraq. From its opening moments, Warfare grabs you by the collar and doesn’t let go, immersing you in a sensory onslaught that feels as close to actual combat as cinema can get. This is a film that demands to be felt, not just watched, and it succeeds spectacularly in its mission.

The film’s authenticity is its beating heart, rooted in the firsthand memories of co-director Ray Mendoza, a former Navy SEAL who lived through the harrowing events depicted. Collaborating with Garland, whose knack for crafting intense, immersive narratives shone in Civil War, Mendoza ensures every detail—from the soldiers’ terse military shorthand to the suffocating tension of waiting—rings true. The decision to base the screenplay solely on the recollections of survivors, cross-checked for accuracy, lends Warfare a documentary-like precision. This isn’t a dramatized war story; it’s a cinematic resurrection of a single, brutal day, and the result is breathtakingly real.

Warfare’s technical prowess is nothing short of extraordinary. David J. Thompson’s cinematography is a masterclass in controlled chaos, with handheld cameras that weave through the claustrophobic confines of an Iraqi house, capturing every bead of sweat and fleeting glance of fear. The film’s real-time structure amplifies this intimacy, making every moment feel immediate and urgent. Glenn Freemantle’s sound design is a revelation, turning every gunshot, ricochet, and agonized scream into a physical sensation that reverberates through your body. The soundscape is so meticulously crafted that it becomes a character in itself, amplifying the dread and disorientation of combat.

The ensemble cast delivers performances that are as raw as the film itself. D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai, portraying Mendoza, anchors the story with a quiet intensity, his youthful face betraying both bravado and terror. Cosmo Jarvis, as sniper Elliott Miller, is a standout, his every movement—whether stretching after hours at his post or screaming in pain—etched with haunting authenticity. Will Poulter, Joseph Quinn, and Charles Melton round out the platoon with performances that eschew Hollywood heroics for grounded humanity. These are not archetypes but scared, flawed young men bound by brotherhood, and their chemistry makes every loss hit like a gut punch.

What sets Warfare apart from other war films is its refusal to glamorize or politicize its subject. There are no rousing speeches, no patriotic overtures, no clear heroes or villains—just the relentless grind of survival. The film’s opening scene, where the SEALs laugh and whoop at a workout video, is a brilliant touch, humanizing them as young men caught in absurd circumstances before plunging them into hell.

Warfare also deserves praise for its unflinching depiction of war’s toll, both physical and psychological. The graphic portrayal of injuries—shattered limbs, blood-soaked bandages—is not gratuitous but necessary, forcing viewers to confront the cost of conflict. Joseph Quinn’s prolonged, excruciating cries as his character lies wounded are unforgettable, lingering in the background as the team scrambles to survive. These moments don’t just shock; they humanize the soldiers, showing their vulnerability in a way few war films dare.

The film’s setting—a single, blocky house commandeered from an Iraqi family—becomes a character in its own right. The confined space amplifies the claustrophobia, with every creak of a floorboard or distant explosion heightening the stakes. The Iraqi family, kept out of sight but ever-present, adds a subtle layer of moral complexity, reminding us of the collateral human cost of war. While the film focuses on the SEALs’ perspective, these glimpses of civilian fear speak volumes, trusting the audience to read between the lines.

Warfare is a sensory and emotional assault, but it’s also a technical marvel that needs to be experienced in theaters. The Dolby sound system transforms the cinema into a battlefield, with every sonic detail—from the clink of a grenade to the roar of a fighter jet—hitting with bone-rattling force. The film’s refusal to offer easy answers or tidy resolutions only enhances its impact, leaving you exhausted, shaken, and profoundly moved. It’s a testament to the power of cinema to not just tell a story but make you live it.