Anthony Ramos in A House of Dynamite, which follows the response by U.S. government officials to an incoming nuclear bomb.Eros Hoagland/The Associated Press
The most chilling thing about the new nuclear disaster drama A House of Dynamite is that it’s actually a best-case scenario. Every character is a serious professional, skilled at their jobs, delivering at the highest level. Yet even they can’t control the outcome.
“Imagine what this would look like if these people were not great at their jobs, or were motivated by things other than the good of their country and the world,” the film’s screenwriter, Noah Oppenheim, said in a recent joint video interview with its director, Kathryn Bigelow.
Both studiously avoided partisan political pronouncements. But we were all acutely aware that as we spoke, most of the U.S.’s generals and admirals were abandoning their posts because they’d been summoned to Washington, where they would strain to keep a straight face as two objectively underqualified political leaders hectored them incoherently.
Every nuclear film speaks to the era in which it was made – Fail Safe and Dr. Strangelove in the 1960s, The Day After in the 1980s – and A House of Dynamite certainly reverberates in ours. From an unknown source in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a nuclear bomb is launched toward the U.S. In real life, it would take 18 minutes to hit Chicago; in this scrupulously researched movie, it does, too. To keep the events in real time, Bigelow shows us those minutes three different times, each from a new angle.
First, we watch a missile defence battalion in Alaska led by Major Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos), and senior staff in the White House situation room, especially Captain Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson). In the second round, we follow people one level up: General Anthony Brady (Tracy Letts) in U.S. strategic command, who advises firing off a response before it’s too late; and deputy national-security adviser Jake Baerington (Gabriel Basso), who characterizes the choice as “surrender or suicide.” In the third, we’re taken to the top of the command chain: secretary of defence Reid Baker (Jared Harris) and the U.S. president (Idris Elba), the ultimate and sole decision-maker.
The first time the countdown clock hit three minutes, I thought my heart was going to detonate. Partly because Bigelow knows how to keep things tight, but mostly because the catastrophe is all too plausible.
“I made this film to remind people – it certainly reminded me – that there are nine countries in the world with nuclear capabilities, and only three are in NATO,” Bigelow says. “Right this minute, there are countless competent individuals working thanklessly behind the scenes 24/7, monitoring 12,000 nuclear warheads, to keep our world safe.” Again, unspoken fears hover over her answer: How many of those competent people were chainsawed rashly by Elon Musk’s department of government efficiency? How many were replaced by sycophants whose main qualification was partisan loyalty?
Oppenheim and Bigelow learned from current and former U.S. officials about how the government would respond to a nuclear threat.Eros Hoagland/Netflix/Netflix
Oppenheim is currently a screenwriter (Jackie), but as a journalist, he spent years covering nuclear and military stories; he was president of NBC News when the world learned that North Korea had a nuclear arsenal. Bigelow is an Oscar-winning director with a reputation for making accurate films that respect the military (K-19: The Widowmaker; The Hurt Locker; Zero Dark Thirty). As a result, the duo knew and were able to speak with former and current U.S. officials at the highest levels of the White House, Pentagon and CIA.
Their sources spoke candidly about the nuclear emergency decision tree, the procedures that would ensue, and the potential gaps. Once filming began in New Jersey, Lieutenant-General Daniel Karbler, who served as commander of the U.S. Army Space and Missile Defense Command from 2019 to 2024, was Bigelow’s on-set military technical adviser, confirming what would or wouldn’t happen, what would or wouldn’t be said.
The filmmakers learned facts more terrifying than any horror movie. Even with the world’s most sophisticated missile-defence system, trying to destroy a nuclear warhead in midair requires the lucky accuracy of “a bullet hitting a bullet.” U.S. presidents are not well-rehearsed on nuclear procedures – typically, they’re briefed once, at the beginning of their terms, and that’s it. The system is run not by computers or artificial intelligence, but by fallible humans who in a crisis could be hungover, underslept or paralyzed by fright.
To make sure she captured those fears and tensions on set, Bigelow ran four main cameras and numerous smaller, digital ones. “Kathryn had a dozen monitors in front of her, and she saw every nuance on every screen,” Oppenheim enthuses. “I couldn’t believe the things she would notice.” As each iteration of the countdown becomes more personal, more emotional, the quieter moments also shine – civil servants breaking down as they phone loved ones; a muscle twitching in Harris’s cheek.
Bigelow made the film to remind people that with 12,000 warheads on our planet, humans truly are living in a house full of explosives. She hopes it “encourages a conversation,” she says, remaining stoically neutral.
Rebecca Ferguson plays Captain Olivia Walker.Eros Hoagland/The Associated Press
Oppenheim tiptoes a tad closer to critical: “The crisis in the information ecosystem is one of the most profound,” he says. “Because if we can’t rely on the facts that we’re getting and we can’t have an informed citizenry, we can’t confront the nuclear threat, climate change or any other threat.”
Entertainment “can be a great vehicle – almost a better vehicle sometimes than journalism – for opening people’s minds,” he continues. “If you take audiences on an emotional ride, if you thrill them for two hours, some part of their brain is more open to new ideas, and you can have a greater impact sometimes than just reading a straightforward piece in a newspaper.”
He’s not ready to abandon journalism – “I think we should try to save journalism. But any avenue we have to tell these stories is important.”
The film’s final frames are deliberately ambiguous – a reminder, Bigelow says, “that the ending is in all of our hands.”
A House of Dynamite opens in select theatres Oct. 10, and begins streaming on Netflix Oct. 24.