Netflix’s new political thriller A House of Dynamite has sparked conversations across the United States about one of the most terrifying “what ifs” imaginable: a nuclear missile attack on American soil. Directed by Kathryn Bigelow and co-written by journalist-turned-screenwriter Noah Oppenheim, the film doesn’t shy away from exploring the minute-by-minute procedures the U.S. government might follow in the event of such a catastrophic threat. But how accurate is it, and what does it really reveal about our nation’s preparedness?
Oppenheim, a former president of NBC News, approached the project with a journalist’s rigor. “If there was ever a missile attack on the United States, what happens? What are the procedures that get followed?” he recalls asking himself at the inception of the story. To answer this, he interviewed numerous high-ranking officials from the Pentagon, the CIA, and the White House, ensuring the story’s foundation was as authentic as possible. Bigelow, known for her military-focused films Zero Dark Thirty and The Hurt Locker, brought her own extensive network of military contacts to the table. Together, they built the narrative from the ground up, blending cinematic tension with factual detail.
The film opens in the White House Situation Room, where duty officers are alerted to an incoming nuclear missile headed for Chicago with just 18 minutes to impact. In the real world, the first line of defense would be a Ground-Based Interceptor (GBI), a missile system designed to destroy intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs) outside Earth’s atmosphere. GBI launches an Exoatmospheric Kill Vehicle (EKV) that collides with the incoming warhead, effectively obliterating it. While the concept is theoretically sound, Oppenheim emphasizes the system’s limitations: “We have fewer than 50 GBIs in our arsenal, and the success rate is about 61%—but that’s based on controlled tests. Real-world scenarios are far less predictable.”
The film accurately portrays America’s missile defense infrastructure, centered around Fort Greely, Alaska. However, a single missile defense system is far from infallible. “We’ll likely never get to a point where every missile can be intercepted,” Oppenheim warns. Even a single warhead slipping through can cause devastating consequences. While the Trump administration had directed the military to develop the Golden Dome missile defense system—a theoretical network of space-based interceptors and laser-equipped satellites—the physics and engineering challenges remain monumental. “The idea of a foolproof shield is alluring but largely unrealistic,” Oppenheim notes.
As the story unfolds, the GBI system fails, sending the nuclear threat toward Chicago. The narrative then focuses on the president, played by Idris Elba, and his young military aide (Jonah Hauer-King), who carries the so-called “nuclear football.” This briefcase, a real-world artifact, contains the codes and contingency plans necessary for nuclear retaliation. Oppenheim highlights the public’s limited understanding of the football: “It’s not just codes—it’s a detailed menu of options, each with estimated casualties. The gravity of that responsibility is staggering.”
The film also raises a chilling reality: the president’s sole authority over nuclear weapons. In practice, one individual can decide whether to launch a retaliatory strike without consulting Congress or other officials. “You have only a few minutes to react, and it rests entirely on the shoulders of one person,” Oppenheim says. He recounts a discussion with a senior security official: while presidents are briefed on nuclear procedures, they rarely practice scenarios in depth. “It takes less than an hour to go over these details after taking office, and then it’s almost never revisited,” he adds.
Beyond its cinematic tension, A House of Dynamite serves as a cautionary tale and conversation starter. Oppenheim hopes it prompts world leaders and policymakers to reconsider strategies for reducing nuclear threats—whether through arms reduction, updated policies, or global diplomacy. “There are enough nuclear weapons on Earth to destroy human civilization multiple times over,” he observes. “And only nine countries possess them. The threat is as real as ever.”
From a journalistic perspective, the film excels in portraying the sobering realities of nuclear deterrence. It presents a rare window into the complexity of defense systems, the limitations of technology, and the human factor that can’t be engineered away. For American audiences, the takeaway is clear: nuclear threats are not abstract—they are immediate, high-stakes, and concentrated in the hands of a few decision-makers. Bigelow and Oppenheim’s collaboration brings this reality to the screen with unprecedented authenticity.
In an era where global tensions are intensifying, A House of Dynamite challenges viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about national security. It’s not just a thriller—it’s a wake-up call. The film reminds us that while missile defense systems exist, no shield is perfect, and the ultimate responsibility for nuclear action rests on human judgment, not technology. As Oppenheim concludes, “I hope that governments everywhere watch this and ask themselves: What more can we do to reduce the risk of these weapons being used? Because the consequences of failure are unthinkable.”
For Americans, the message resonates deeply. The country may be armed with advanced missile defense technology and sophisticated emergency protocols, but the reality of nuclear warfare remains precariously close to science fiction. A House of Dynamite doesn’t just entertain—it informs, warns, and challenges us to face the stark truth of what could happen if deterrence fails.