A person in military uniform kneels on rocky ground outdoors, with a military vehicle and large storage tank in the background under a cloudy sky.

‘A House of Dynamite’ showcases government unpreparedness in three parts

The Kathryn Bigelow political thriller focuses on the U.S. government's response to a nuclear threat when deescalation is not an option

Anthony Ramos as Maj. Daniel Gonzalez in "A House of Dynamite."

Eros Hoagland/Netflix

Words by Zachary Lee

The world ends not with a bang, but with the sounds of heavy binders being shuffled around uselessly in director Kathryn Bigelow’s A House of Dynamite.

The political thriller focuses on the U.S. government’s response when a nuclear warhead is launched at the city of Chicago. Our government would like to make you believe that even in this scenario they’d be ready: onscreen, we see U.S. officials—from Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson), a senior officer in the White House Situation Room, to Maj. Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos), a commander of Fort Greely—plan and strategize, drawing from the aforementioned binders, as they try to calculate a response. What Bigelow and screenwriter Noah Oppenheim show over the course of 112 minutes is the non-existence of real strategies in the face of such a crisis. When countries have nuclear weapons, there is no deescalation; mutually assured destruction is the norm, not the exception; the only inheritance is scorched earth, and the only outcome is more destruction.

A House of Dynamite is a triptych, focusing on three different areas of the government and their responses to the crisis. With each succeeding chapter, the film starts over from the beginning when the missile is first launched. In many ways, the start and stop motion of this film completely undercuts any momentum that would keep it engaging. It’s a double-edged sword. Bigelow and Oppenheim have crafted a barn-burner premise, and each shift in narrative arrives at the height of the film’s tension. It makes it somewhat tedious to have to sit through parts of the story that we’ve already seen before. In one sequence, for example, we focus on U.S. Air Force Gen. Anthony Brady (Tracy Letts) at U.S. Strategic Command, on a Zoom call with several other high-ranking generals as they discuss how to respond to the launched missile. In one corner of the Zoom call, we see Deputy National Security Advisor Jake Baerington (Gabriel Brasso) running late to the meeting. The next time the film resets, we see this exact scenario, but this time from Baerington’s point of view.

In theory, these shifts in narrative should unravel a new dimension to these characters or move us in some ways when we see how people’s humanity gets leavened by our natural tendencies for belligerent self-preservation. Yet by act one, we’ve just about judged everyone by their covers and colors, and the ensuing chapters—in which we see different permutations of their response—don’t do much to convince us that redemption is on the horizon. After Daniel and his team at Fort Greely fail to destroy the missile, White House officials realize that Chicago’s destruction is inevitable and Anthony encourages the president (Idris Elba) to retaliate against their foes the moment Chicago is decimated, as a show of force and to stop further assaults, though the president realizes that such an act would ignite World War III. These behaviors aren’t surprising. The military will always choose violence, especially to save face, while all the binders and strategies in the world don’t help when a crisis is actualized.

A man in a navy suit and striped tie looks down thoughtfully while sitting by a window, with light illuminating his face.

Idris Elba as the president of the United States in "A House of Dynamite."

Eros Hoagland/Netflix

Curiously, Bigelow and cinematographer Barry Ackroyd film the proceedings as if they’re part of a documentary, but they employ so many sudden zooms and claustrophobic close-ups that it feels like an episode of The Office. It can be borderline nauseating to watch, which perhaps acts as a way to conjure the destabilizing chaos of being in the room where it happens, but it’s an aesthetic flourish that detracts rather than adds. Oppenheim’s script is already nerve-inducing and one that commands our attention from the first frame, and these visual choices often chop the momentum that’s been set up thus far.

Performance-wise, worthy of praise despite her brief screentime is Greta Lee’s turn as Ana Park, the NSA national intelligence officer for North Korea. She’s spending time with her son and watching a historical reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg when she receives a call about the missile and is asked whether she thinks it could be a North Korean attack. Lee plays Park with all the weariness and steeliness of someone who’s had to defend themselves to their country time and time again. She knows that, as legitimate as the administration’s question is, it’s also born from a paranoia rooted in stereotypes and potential racism, and Park has to tread the line carefully between showing loyalty to her country while also highlighting the inherent anti-Asian bias within the assumption of assault.

By walking through the processes of crisis management in real time, Bigelow reveals just how inane the protocols meant to “protect us” are, how much those tasked with protecting our nation’s people and borders rely on an obfuscation of information rather than a streamlining of communication, and the fragility of the “peace” we’re living in. This is a world where everyone is prepared but no one is ready, and Bigelow’s film shows the horror of when people have to put their training to the test. The question is not if the world will blow up, but who’s willing to be the catalyst and light the match.

Published on October 27, 2025

Words by Zachary Lee

Zachary Lee is a freelance film and culture writer based in Chicago. You can read his work at places like RogerEbert, The Chicago Reader, Dread Central, Sojourners, and The National Catholic Reporter. He frequently writes about the intersection between popular culture and spirituality. Find him hopelessly attempting to catch up on his watchlist over on Letterboxd.