The Edge of Glory: “Edge of Tomorrow” as Propaganda

In Doug Liman’s Edge of Tomorrow, Tom Cruise goes to battle. And then does it again. And again. And again. Trapped in a time loop worthy of your typical Marvel-esque exposition, Cruise’s Bill Cage and his counterpart Rita Vrataski (Emily Bunt) act as beacons of the “war cause.” In essence, Edge of Tomorrow is a propaganda film.

In his piece on Lone Survivor, Calum Marsh asserts that every war movie is essentially “pro-war,” arguing that they “may not strictly glorify. But they almost never discourage.” And while his piece goes on to dissect Lone Survivor from the approach of the Manichean good versus bad – the good heroic and relatable, the bad one-dimensional and cartoonishly evil – his argument pushes through even more in Edge of Tomorrow. In the film, the capital-G Good Guys are worth exploring on a human level, while the bad guys are literally drones, so much of its primary ideas seem to be vehemently nationalistic and in support of “war for the greater good.”

The movie’s “Live, Die, Repeat” conceit is often simplistically boiled down to a comparison with video games, wherein one’s character simply respawns at the last checkpoint with each death. But such a concept also speaks to the cyclical nature of war. It’s not merely that everyone (big brush, broad stroke) is embroiled in some kind of conflict at all times, but that such conflicts are inherited, and (as the film’s tagline suggests) they repeat themselves. But in this story, the desire to ostensibly learn from the mistakes of history (if only to make them again) leads to careful plotting and strategizing.

With every action sequence, it is as if the characters are playing a video game version of the Battle of Normandy — they’re on a beach, they’re moving forward. But with the flexibility allowed by Cage’s time looping, he and Rita are able to perfectly plot what they must do in order to reach their objective. It is not the depiction of the battle in and of itself which makes it feel like war is being rather glorified, but in the repetition. Though Liman often chooses to skip or truncate extended sequences for the sake of economic storytelling, he nevertheless places the audience in the middle of the battlefield with Cage over and over again. And unlike a more straightforward war film like Apocalypse Now or, as Marsh cites, Saving Private Ryan, Liman does not even push the idea of war being unsavory. While one could argue that the film’s intentions are more rooted in it being genre fare, other aspects of Edge of Tomorrow contradict that idea.

The images Liman presents to the audience are overtly propagandistic. The film opens with newsreel footage, setting up the core conflict within the film’s world: an asteroid hits earth, and something evil and powerful lurks within. Soon enough, those somethings are taking over the world. But within this documentary footage are scenes from press conferences and interviews with General Brigham (Brendan Gleeson) and Cage. We learn in a scene that follows shortly after the opening that Cage is basically a PR man. His job is to “sell the war,” as he puts it. He is a recruiter. While Edge of Tomorrow may not go as far as to act as a recruitment film, it seems to, maybe unintentionally, be straightforward with that kind of tone.

Then there’s Rita Vrataski, a much-lauded, highly decorated soldier with the moniker “The Angel of Verdun” (or alternatively, “Full Metal Bitch”). Amongst the soldiers, Vrataski is a legend, as she nearly single-handedly won the Battle of Verdun. Her status, though perfectly earned, is the glory. Again, she is a beacon for the cause. She literally glows as we first see her step out into battle (Okay, not literally — it’s just the way the light hits her that makes it appear so).

She’s featured on a poster on which words above her head read “To Victory!” Her stance is the stuff of World War II propaganda, her body positioned with strength and fortitude. She’s like Uncle Sam’s distant British relative. She holds her machete at the ready. This makes her something else besides a soldier: an icon. A “Full Metal Bitch” and an “Angel of Verdun.” She shows off her toughness by embracing both nicknames. Though they may feel jarring when applied to the same person, it’s a duality that the United Defense Force (UDF for short) is pushing: they want a savior and a soldier rolled into one.

I find the use of Full Metal Bitch kind of ironic, assuming it is an allusion to Full Metal Jacket. Although Samuel Fuller described that film as “another goddamned recruiting film,” it is, at least on its surface, incredibly anti-war. One of Kubrick’s pet preoccupations was critiquing the war machine and its ability to dehumanize, from Paths of Glory to Dr. Strangelove to Full Metal Jacket. But Edge of Tomorrow doesn’t do that. It doesn’t bother to show the horrors of war.

Late in the film, a few more characters also fall onto the side of heroism that is, in this case at least, devoid of nuance. They sacrifice themselves one by one, and their deaths are not in vain, for they died for a noble cause: that of the human race. Though there isn’t an explicitly allegorical nature to this film compared to District 9, aliens are nonetheless invaders and threats to the human race. I know this because it was repeated in the film a couple dozen times. It feels uncomfortable, though, that even within the film, the characters acknowledge that they are unsure of why this battle is going on in the first place, besides the impending threat. Cage quickly replaces that anxiety with drive, saying, “What matters is we’re losing.” Losing, you see, is not an option.

Edge of Tomorrow‘s tone seems to have been painted with shades of American exceptionalism, despite the fact that it moslty takes place in London. Tom Cruise is surrounded by a primarily British cast, but his presence speaks volumes anyways. Once America’s greatest movie star, he takes the reigns here, serving as an icon within the film in a more dramatically ironic way than Blunt. His push for the war, even externally, gives the impression of a somewhat nationalistic tone. To what end is Edge of Tomorrow actually propaganda, or perhaps a commentary on video games as propaganda (much of its visual and narrative elements are similar to Call of Duty in that regard), is anyone’s guess. There might be a bit of self-awareness in the script, yet it is simultaneously earnest. But in reality, you live and die. You just can’t repeat.