Warfare (2025) ★★★★★

Warfare is 90 minutes of pure, bottled intensity. The dialogue is sparse, filled mainly with radio chatter and the nervous rhythms of military comms. The cast, some familiar faces, some not, all bring their A-game, radiating both grim resolve and trained competence as things inevitably go FUBAR.

With Alex Garland behind the camera, you expect tight, gorgeous photography and sound design that mesmerizes and commandeers your eardrums. But what truly sets this film apart is co-director Ray Mendoza, a former Navy SEAL whose firsthand experience in the 2006 Battle of Ramadi forms the film’s backbone. Warfare sweats authenticity from every pore. The last few minutes before the credits feature real photos of the soldiers portrayed, along with behind-the-scenes footage, serving as a poignant reminder that this movie was as grueling to make as it is to watch.

I left the theater half-deaf, shellshocked, my already shitty hearing even more muted by an hour of deafening action. After my first watch, I was at four stars, but I knew I’d have to see it again.

The following week, I watched it with my youngest son (22). He was blown away, and so was I. Again. Four and a half stars, goddamn it. Then my oldest came over, eager to see it, and I just couldn’t say no. The result? Five fucking stars, baby. Warfare is now in my top three war movies of all time, right up there with Apocalypse Now and Saving Private Ryan.

But there’s a sadness here, too. The competence and courage of these soldiers, defending themselves in a brutal siege, are undeniable. And yet, all I could think of was Pete Hegseth, gutting the military’s professionalism for some grievance-driven, anti-woke, frat house vendetta. There were no Signal chat scandals when these guys were fighting for their lives.

So, while Rome burns and the Centurions leave their posts to party, I’ll just whisper “Show of Force” and replay those movie clips over, again and again.