In every ‘Nuke’ and corner of the world, there is a missile threat rearing its ugly, annihilating head. I think world leaders should pause to watch Kathryn Bigelow’s. A House of Dynamite is an indescribably taut, clenched experience, a ‘one fine day’ parable, if you will, when the American administration is thrown into an unimaginable crisis. Some countries have released a missile aimed at Chicago and other US cities. Is it China? Russia? North Korea, maybe?
Does it really matter when the final blow means the death of millions, entire cities deleted from the map. This is not an ordinary end-of-the-world cinema, the kind we have been watching for years now, with a blasé attitude.
It would be no exaggeration to say that we could feel the throbbing fear of The End in every frame of A House Of Dynamite. To be honest, this is the ultimate horror film: the end of the world not as cinematic entertainment, but a blow by blow account, with frames and scenes cut with razor-sharp acuity that will send a shiver up your spine.
The harmony within the tale of unmitigated chaos is exemplary. We are watching an apocalyptic scenario, one which has no redemptive ending. We feel that sense of dread at the pit of our stomach, along with the characters who are so, shall we say, into it, they seem to have a life far beyond the camera.
Of course, the inconspicuous cinematography by Barry Ackroyd (who worked with Bigelow in her all-time classic The Hurt Locker) is a presence that suggests a pounding absence.
Technically, the film is beyond brilliant, creating the bustle of the crisis in images that are immediate and urgent, imminent and proactive, but much of it gets lost on the small screen.
What remains is the palpable sense of impending doom. It’s in the hurried, furtive looks and glances exchanged, in those desperate whispered calls to loved ones, the look of helpless dread on the faces of those locked together in an anxious huddle in the Situation Room, the crisis management team trying not to screen at the White House.
The actors, many of them huge marquee names, pitch in with unalloyed performances, transcending the traditional parameters of cinematic expression by inducing a documentary element to every interpretation of the looming crisis.
Interestingly, the President of the United States is played by a Black superstar, Idris Elba, last seen prancing across several countries with Priyanka Chopra Jonas as the British Prime Minister in the ludicrous Heads of State. In A House of Dynamite, most of Elba’s scenes are with the presidential aide Lieutenant Reeves (Jonah Hauer-King). Their conversations are so portentous and yet not the least pretentious.
This is a remarkable achievement, wherein Bigelow peaks the pique of the crisis without pursuing the ensuing drama. No, she doesn’t soften the blow. She just makes a nuclear invasion a reality for not just your next-door neighbour but for you as well.
