All War is Class War

Rating: 9/10 (12 January 2013)

Many have concluded that, within this film, Whedon and Goddard are simply cleverly manipulating the horror genre. However, upon further investigation, we discover a thoroughly political film.
First, a plot summary: a group of young people representing certain types must be sacrificed in a particular order every year in order to appease the old gods who slumber beneath the earth. If this is accomplished, the gods return to their slumber. If it is not accomplished, the gods will rise and destroy humanity.
Halfway through, we have followed a standard genre pattern — only we covered the ground quickly and we are at the point where another movie might end. All but one of the young people has been reported dead, and the office workers are having a party. Dana, "the virgin," is not dead yet, but she doesn't need to die to appease the gods.
At the office party, people start drinking and flirting, while Dana is on TV screens in the background being murdered. The violence that is depicted here is the most realistic in the film. A young woman is being beaten to death by a large man.
Initially, I thought this scene was doing something comparable to films like "Martyrs" – causing the viewer to question why she chooses to view this sort of violence. If I am bothered by the juxtaposition shown in the film, what does this say about me and the pleasure I derive from watching this myself? But more is going on. The more sustained point of comparison for this scene is not the viewing of this film. This scene is actually targeting the ways in which we react to the deaths of those who are executed in the War on Terror. It mimics videos taken of people celebrating in Times Square when Osama's assassination was announced. This film is a criticism of the War on Terror. We don't sacrifice people to appease "the old gods" but we do torture and murder people in order to defend "freedom" or "democracy." We still sacrifice people to save the world. And we celebrate those deaths when they occur.
Sceptical? Consider this: at the end of the movie, Marty and Dana are confronted by the Director of the operation. She argues that they need to die or humanity will be destroyed. Marty replies:
"Maybe that's the way it should be. If you gotta kill all my friends to survive, maybe it's time for a change."
Dana agrees with Marty and states: it is time to "give someone else a chance."
The connection to the War on Terror is that we are led to question what "humanity" is and who gets to define who is "human." This conclusion is prompted by earlier events, when the office workers bet on which monster(s) will be selected. Later, somebody tries to cash in on the prize by pointing out that she picked zombies. A manager responds: "you had zombies. But this is 'Zombies Redneck Torture Family' They're entirely separate species. It's like the difference between the elephant and the elephant seal." This is critical. The Buckners are more than zombies. They are a family of low-income uneducated people. The Buckners, and then the rest of the monsters, represent the global poor. These are the people whose humanity we refuse to recognize.
Perhaps Marty and Dana are right to reject the option presented to them. In our world, it is not humanity that will perish should our sacrificial system collapse. It is those who have imposed an hegemonic and exclusionary definition of humanity, and reaped the rewards they gained from sacrificing others, who stand to fall — all others will gain.
A final point about the office workers: generally, in horror films, when we become aware of hidden cameras the identity of the watcher is a secret and, when revealed, this person usually ends up being a sexual predator/sadist/psychopath. Here, we know the identity of the people behind the cameras from the beginning – they are regular office workers. They don't enjoy their work but it needs to be done. Cracks appear momentarily, like when a manager expresses sympathy for Dana, but they are quickly masked by calls for alcohol. Like the rest of us, confronting what we do and our complicity in violence (even if we believe that violence is justified) is too difficult to do — let's get drunk instead.
Truman matters here. He is new to the job and asks the same questions that the audience has so we identify with him. Like us, he is a good person. He displays integrity. He states that he has been prepped on what the project entails but has trouble accepting it. Consequently, when everybody is joking or partying, he is conflicted.
However, crucially, Truman holds his post. He questions things but still sides with the project managers. Here, the film exposes the truth about the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves. We do not participate directly in the enslavement of children in sweatshops, or in the slaughter of Afghanis, but we do know that these things happen with our indirect support. Yet, rather than changing what we do, we simply question things and this allows us to feel like good people. We are Truman and even if we express discomfort with what we do, we still do it very well.
This film exposes the War of Terror for what it is: the violent defence of the propertied classes against the global poor whom we sacrifice in order to sustain an order that privileges the humanity and opulence of a select few. We are all implicated in this. Consequently, Marty and Dana conclude that we must cease the violent sacrifice of others, which sustains the order of our world. And if we do this and the oppressed rise up, we should not think twice about the fact that they may destroy us to make the world new.