The blend of despair and hope in post-apocalyptic films continually captures my imagination to a large extent, and my deep dive into this world has been full of twists and turns. The first instance I recall of entering this world was when I went to watch “The Road” on its midnight release. The chilling visuals and extraordinary acting made me scared and anxious.
As the plot progressed, I got sucked into the fight of the protagonists who had to survive in a world devoid of humanity. Just when I expected the movie to abandon me in hopelessness, I was greeted with a glimmer of optimism telling me, “Not all is lost.” This theme of hopelessness accompanied with a sprinkle of optimism is what defines most post-apocalyptic films, and beckons the real question: Why is there a need to present hope in stories depicting the most unfortunate circumstances known to man? This is the real mystery, isn’t it?
In the recalling of my journey with different movies, there is one distinct pattern that I noticed – the desire to deliver a convenient solution even if it comes at the expense of the plot. The classic example of this is “I Am Legend.”
Will Smith as the last man alive in a completely deserted New York City was so immersive and captivating to watch. However, as the film neared the ending, I could feel a change.
Everything needed to be resolved, and as a result, the film’s closing – although reasonable – did not seem genuine. Unlike the film, Richard MathSON’s original novel has a much more grim ending that makes the readers tackle the harsh truth of the potential destructive nature of mankind. The filmmakers’ decision to ease the impact baffled me because it felt like they didn’t take the audience’s ability to understand the story seriously.
The motive behind why studios choose happy endings is deeply confusing. It appears that there is a widespread notion that availing a ‘happy ending’ gives the audience some sort of assurance that everything will be alright in the end. Although I am able to comprehend the yearning for hope, it feels as if it does a great disservice to all the powerful themes which can be explored in the post-apocalyptic setting.
The reasons behind these kinds of stories is always based on how humanity chooses to act, and softening the impact these narratives have to bring by ‘hoping for the best’ feels profoundly disappointing. I question if directors are even willing to accept the harsher realities of this world, and if they would prefer to resort to unrealistic feel-good fantasies, even if it is in the form of a temporary escape. Hoping for something positive during the worst of times is not a trait particular to the film industry as it extends to our society as well.
We have the tendency to take comfort in the belief that there is still some chance for something good to happen, even when things seem to be at their worst. However, I believe that the more truthful strength of post-apocalyptic stories is not on the comfort they can provide, but on the discomfort they can evoke. In a world where films were predominantly focused on the flaws of mankind, we must be unapologetic about the ugly side of life.
“Children of Men” is one of many films that artfully tackle these contradictions, offering what little hope there is as something intensely precious but impossible to grasp. In a decaying world, the sound of a baby’s cry is a strong testament to the fact that the world can be the cruelest but hope still comes with tenderness, even if it is extracted from short moments. In analyzing this specific genre, I have come to enjoy the films that do not provide easy answers.
One example is “Annihilation” which not only perturbed my views but also made me confront the questions I had about existence. The film’s disturbing ending raised several questions and made me think about the ideas of change and survival well after the credits rolled. On the other hand, several post apocalyptic films tend to frustrate me because they prioritize resolving the plot over engaging with the deeper issues presented in the film.
A couple of years back, one of my favorite memories was when I watched, “28 Days Later” at a local arthouse cinema. The ambiance was insane, filled with other movie lovers who seemed just as eager as I was, and this excited me. I found myself captivated and fascinated by the film’s grim realism, entangled in a world ridden with chaos and loneliness.
However, like most stories filled with hopelessness, this one too managed to turn the tables, trying to give the audience a break with a shocking twist that felt quite forced; the story gave a merciful twist to the tale providing a so-called “safe haven.” Unsuccessfully, I tried to make sense of the myriad feelings I experienced after watching this film, some seemed amazing while others seemed downright god awful. The filmmakers beautifully managed to encapsulate the narrative in a way which lulled you into a false sense of bewildering optimism only to have a little flicker of disappointment at the end. I took my time smoothing out how I felt, recalling how filmmakers can ruin otherwise awesome stories by yielding to the demand of the audience.
While watching post-apocalyptic movies, I come across these stories which I feel are missing something important. The best movies in that genre are the most horrible and sad because they are where the truth lies. They force me to think about the evils embedded in the tale, ponder the sheer feebleness of hope and acceptance, and the fact that there is hardly any chance of survival unless one witnesses the horrific deeds and faces them.
Post-apocalyptic stories are as equally complex as they seem, which is why their themes must be treated respectfully. For any film, “integrity’s notion” is that for it to remain true, all aspects within the stated scope must be extracted. The same filmmakers try to close the story with their “happy ending” where everything is neatly resolved, which ultimately breaks the story apart and removes the raw essence post-apocalyptic films have to offer.
Rather than grief and giving a sense of closure, I want the most powerful pieces to compel the audience to sit with discomfort occupying the collision between existence and survival. People are always talking about happy endings and resolution, however, I find peace in films that touch on more serious aspects of humanity. Movies like these are deeply engrossing, capturing the essence of the world in the most worrying manner possible.
While some people may find comfort in such despair, I think true engagement with post-apocalyptic scenarios comes from our readiness to accept the unpredictability of life. During my exploration of this genre, I challenge myself to seek out the stories that are the most thought-provoking, complex, and challenging relative to the uncomfortable truth of modern society. I feel like I am not alone when I say the world these days feels chaotic and torn apart, in my opinion, the strongest element present in post-apocalyptic cinema is not Hope, but rather the ability to shed light into darkness and as a result, help us to come together as one humanity.
It is evident that my research on post-apocalyptic films encompasses a broad scope of human sentiments, conflicts, and perspectives. Even when it is normal to wish for optimism, I recommend directors to protect the sanctity of their stories by embracing the multifaceted nature of humanity and life because it is this depth that allows profound and purposeful storytelling. This deeply deep has the potential to make audiences think about life and the indomitable human spirit in dark times and encourage them to ponder about their purpose in the world.
