The circuitous track of that fuse rounds its way, roughly, around three larger narrative strands. The first is the frontline of nuclear deterrence and analysis, chiefly represented by Ferguson’s aforementioned Olivia, who is senior officer in the White House Situation Room, as well as a handful of other proverbial watchers on the wall like Maj. Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos), a commander in charge of the military’s ground-based interceptor missiles at an undisclosed location in the midwest. We spend an obligatory few moments in understanding each protagonist’s daily life—Olivia is happily married, though out the door for work before her daughter is really up, or for that matter dawn has begun; Daniel is swallowing his anger after a breakup; and there’s even a FEMA official (Moses Ingram) going through a divorce.
Soon though the new reality takes shape and a missile from a nuclear submarine of an unknown origin is flying like a bat out of hell into orbit. The warhead seems to be on a path aimed directly toward one of the continental United States’ major cities. From her situation room, Liv must manage an AWOL POTUS who is giving exacerbated orders over choppy Zoom calls. She’s also sneaking a warning to her husband to get in a car with their daughter and drive west while avoiding major population centers. The movie reaches a crescendo of dread as everyone in the Situation Room watches the minutes before impact tick down to zero. It’s now decision time for the commander-in-chief on how to respond…
And then the movie starts again from a slightly higher ranking position, this time a day in the life of hawkish STRATCOM Gen. Anthony Brody (Tracy Letts), as well as the NSA’s North Korea expert Ana Park (Greta Lee), and expectant father and deputy National Security Advisor Jake Baerington (Gabriel Basso). Quickly the structure comes into focus, as disparate perspectives offer a growing (but still opaque) understanding of what’s happening. We see the same events occur multiple times from a more militaristic perch next; and then of course will come a third run-through as finally a fairly feckless POTUS (Idris Elba) and his completely shellshocked Secretary of Defense (Jared Harris) walk us into zero seconds from midnight.
Conceptually A House of Dynamite would appear to have the structure of 21st century realpolitik Rashomon parable: the same story told from such divergent and conflicting perspectives that it suggests a greater truth that remains elusive for one and all. But in practice, the film better resembles the same earnest and worthwhile PSA ad campaign running slight variations of the same TV spot back-to-back. After the first 45 or so white-knuckle minutes, you get the point. So by the time we’re completing our third lap round the apocalypse, you’re ready to push the big red button yourself.
This appears to be largely a fatal misjudgment in Oppenheim’s screenplay. The writer of Jackie and Zero Day proves his real insider beltway bonafides on this one, insofar as he mistakes a fascination with process to be a winning political narrative. There is merit to almost every one of the potential protagonists in Dynamite, but collectively the sum of the ensemble is lesser than its parts.
Ferguson remains compulsively watchable in any scenario she’s in, and makes a strong anchor in the first segment, and Elba’s POTUS is an interesting composite of various recent presidents. He obviously suggests Obama’s background as well as erudite nature (he is supposed to be well-read), but he also proves as distracted as more recent, yet older, chief commanders, especially in the way Trump is reportedly easily swayed by whoever talks to him last. Here is a man who likes sitting behind the resolute desk but is absolutely confounded by making any strong decision there.