Ethics on Film: Discussion of "A House of Dynamite"

A House of Dynamite, directed by Kathryn Bigelow and written by Noah Oppenheim, is intensely real. Released on October 24, 2025, during one of the most geopolitically tense times in recent history, the film opens with a clear message: “In the years after the Cold War, there was a consensus by the world’s governments to deescalate and reduce the number of nuclear weapons around the globe. That era is now over!” What follows is a jittery, dramatic, and realistic depiction of how the United States government might respond to an impending nuclear strike. Bigelow (winner of the Academy Award for Iraq War action thriller The Hurt Locker) and Oppenheim (former president of NBC News) leave the audience feeling unnerved as they masterfully elevate a problem many thought was solved. With 18 minutes until impact, the film raises the relevance and the alarm about the current nuclear strategic state.

Synopsis

Instead of a linear story line, the film is split into different sections that advance the plot from various angles. With this structure, the story does not have a central character or location. The viewer follows a steady Captain Olivia Walker (Rebecca Ferguson) from the White House Situation Room, a distraught Major Daniel Gonzalez (Anthony Ramos) at a military base in Alaska, a young and disorganized Deputy National Security Adviser Jake Baerington (Gabriel Basso) running through the streets of DC, a complex Secretary of Defense Reid Baker (Jared Harris) in the Pentagon, a gruff General Anthony Brady (Tracy Letts) based at the United States Strategic Command, and a contemplative president of the United States (Idris Elba). Interestingly, the U.S. president does not physically appear until the last section of the movie, and we never learn his name, leaving room for the viewer to project their own image of a leader onto Elba’s character.

The film opens with the monotonous and trivial details of everyday life; a sick kid, a traffic-filled commute, a discussion of last night’s baseball game, a morning coffee. The un-remarkability of the day can be heard in Admiral Mark Miller’s (Jason Clarke) offhanded remarks to those working in the White House Situation Room, “Give me a shout-out if the world’s going to end.”

The sense of normalcy is abruptly disrupted when an unidentified missile is detected over the Pacific Ocean headed for U.S. airspace. Characters at the Alaskan base and White House Situation Room dismiss the threat at first, speculating that the source might be a North Korean missile test gone awry or a billionaire who forgot to file his paperwork, a nod to the current commercialization and militarization of space. As it becomes clear that the missile is headed to the continental U.S. and as countermeasures fail, the tension increases. With the countdown clock ticking, what unfolds is a mad dash with all the separate sections of the movie converging at the central end point: the potential impact of a nuclear bomb on a U.S. city. The time between detection and impact is the locus of the film, and an ensuing debate unfolds about who to save, whether to strike back, and what the acceptable risks are when hurtling the world into a nuclear war. In the end, the movie does not show if the bomb hits (it’s mentioned several times that nuclear warheads sometimes malfunction on impact) or what the characters decide, leaving it up to the viewer to discern what they themselves would do.

Follow the Procedure

All 112 minutes of the movie are intense. While there are various points of tension throughout, Bigelow and Oppenheim bring into sharp focus the disconnect between the human and the rational reaction to a nuclear threat. The characters are shown in their full humanity as they react to the threat of possible Armageddon; they cry, they pray, they get physically sick, they call home. Their reactions stand in stark contrast to the procedure, which is spelled out by the military manuals they have on hand; numerous characters pull out binders to check what to do next. A possible nuclear attack is a threat that the U.S. government has planned against for decades with clear policies on how to proceed. The reality of the discord between the procedure and the emotion is literally voiced by the soldiers at the Alaskan base who exclaim, after the countermeasures fail, “We did everything right!”

With the very realistic reactions of the characters, Bigelow and Oppenheim take aim at the rationale that the destructive capabilities of nuclear weapons are so regulated and well-governed that they are impervious to the folly of humankind. The film debunks the myth of control and makes a broader commentary on the public’s complacency; just because there is a procedure, it does not mean the public should be apathetic about the strategic nuclear state of the world.

Importantly though, Bigelow and Oppenheim make a clear choice not to portray any of the characters in the film as particularly volatile or erratic. Their emotions are not irrational. This choice stands in contrast to Stanley Kubrick’s foundational 1964 film, Dr. Strangelove or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, which shows what happens when bad actors get a hold of nuclear weapons. Conversely, Bigelow and Oppenheim’s characters speak and act in a considerably measured way, especially given the fact that it might be the start of a nuclear world war. The U.S. president in the movie, specifically, appears determined to weigh all options and to listen to expert opinions and differing points of view.

The emotional but considered actions of Bigelow and Oppenheim’s fictional president leave the viewer with the question: What happens when leaders don’t have these characteristics or when heads of nuclear nations do not surround themselves with people who will offer different opinions?

These important questions are not speculative. Though the current U.S. administration under President Donald Trump has not adopted a clear policy on nuclear diplomacy, his firing of the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (one of many such examples) demonstrates a shuttering of the openness for discussion. The viewer is left to wonder: What would the conference call depicted in A House of Dynamite look and sound like today? Would there be a willingness to grapple with the emotions and tradeoffs or would current government officials stick to procedure and retaliate?

Nuclear Ethics

The grappling is essential. It is what makes the film excellent. While Bigelow and Oppenheim’s thesis is clear—the era of nuclear disarmament and diplomacy is over—the considerations of what ought to be done are left open for debate. Deciding to drop the bomb is far from a black-and-white decision. When talking about nuclear weapons, there is a classic and oversimplified prompt often posed of whether or not to drop the bomb to end World War II. The movie shatters this simplistic premise and dives into the messy, complicated, and crucial nuclear ethics debate. Interestingly and perhaps intentionally, the argument to deescalate and to wait proves much harder to defend. This voice of caution is Deputy National Security Adviser Baerington, called into action on the day as his boss was undergoing a routine colonoscopy. But he fumbles with his connection to the conference call and with making a convincing argument. Baerington’s foil is General Brady, the voice of retaliation, who makes a steady and clear case for a preemptive strike.

The debate is amplified by intentional cinematography. Throughout the film, the viewer sees oil paintings, statues, and a Civil War battle reenactment. These are all ways in which the culture pays tribute to the great wars and generals of the past. The sharply ironic difference here, of course, is that with a nuclear war, nothing will be left.

In one of the final scenes, the U.S. president asks his flag aide, the military officer assigned to accompany the president at all times, for advice when handed the binder full of retaliatory options. The aide unhelpfully replies, “My job is to execute orders.” The U.S. president, of course, is not handed Michael Walzer’s chapter on “Supreme Emergency” in Just and Unjust Wars and the corresponding literary debates. However, the characters strain in a real way to weigh the tradeoffs and consider the consequences of nuclear weapons.

The ethics are real and present. Through the different perspectives of their characters, Bigelow and Oppenheim masterfully encourage the audience to engage with the debate: Who should have these weapons, and how, and in what manner (if ever) should these weapons be deployed, stockpiled, and tested?

This is Insanity

The discussion of nuclear weapons is incredibly relevant today.

The structure of the film, with all sections driving to minute zero, the moment of impact, allows for certain phrases to be reiterated, thus underlining the statements. One repeated expression: “That’s what we spent $50 billion for?” comes from Secretary Baker and refers to the U.S. missile defense system. Characters describe the intercepts as a coin toss and as “hitting a bullet with a bullet.” The failure of the system in the movie shatters the characters’ feeling of safety and offers a harsh critique of President Trump’s Golden Dome Initiative.

More significant, though, is the central expression: “This is insanity.” This phrase is repeated by multiple characters throughout the movie and is accompanied by the sobering response, “No, this is reality.” In 2025 and in the world that Bigelow and Oppenheim created, both statements are true.

Today, there are no treaties between the U.S. and Russia limiting the numbers of strategic nuclear weapons. Compounding that fact, there are no comprehensive strategic nuclear arms control agreements between the U.S. and China or the U.S. and North Korea. Traditional U.S. commitments to both nuclear and conventional deterrence appear to be receding, heightening a sense of urgency, especially in Europe, and leading to increased military spending and cooperation. More alarmingly, countries including South Korea, Japan, and Poland have openly considered pursuing nuclear options.

Bigelow and Oppenheim’s film reflects the current geopolitical reality; a world with few guardrails on nuclear weapons; a binder full of retaliation plans that do not include pathways for deescalation and diplomacy; a house of dynamite.

Discussion Questions

1. What decision would you have made as president?
2. Are there other solutions possible that were not voiced by the characters in the movie? If so, what are they?
3. As the international system undergoes a dramatic shift, how should we reimagine nuclear disarmament, diplomacy and non-proliferation?
4. Should the process to use nuclear weapons in the U.S. be reformed? If so, how?
5. Is there value in acting on your emotions—as some characters did—to these kinds of threats or actions? Was there a character (or characters) that reacted in a more constructive way in the moment?
6. What should be the end goal for nuclear weapons? Should the world work towards zero warheads or is there value in some nations having them?

Works Cited

"America's 'Golden Dome' Explained," Center for Strategic & International Studies (CSIS), June 4, 2025

"Ethics on Film: Discussion of Dr. Strangelove," Alex Woodson, Carnegie Council, December 10, 2024

Just and Unjust Wars, Michael Walzer, Basic Books, 2015

"The Nuclear Club Might Soon Double," Ross Andersen, The Atlantic, July 8, 2025

Nuclear Complacency, Kathleen Egan & Joel Rosenthal, Carnegie Council, November 3, 2025

"Russia Suspends New START and Increases Nuclear Risks," Heather Williams, Center for Strategic & International Studies (CSIS), February 23, 2023

"Trump fires Joint Chiefs chairman, Navy head in DOD leadership purge," Stephen Losey and Beth Sullivan, Military Times, February 21, 2025

"Walking a fraying nuclear tightrope," Joel Rosenthal, Politico, September 25, 2024

Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs is an independent and nonpartisan nonprofit. The views expressed within this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Carnegie Council.