Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #17 August 2015 | Page 31

Wilde cuts in parts of this sequence with scenes of
the virginal Mary talking to Roger about having sex
with him once they reach her uncle’s farm. He does
this with a number of other dramatic high points
in the film, undercutting their power when they are
seen in context later in the film. And, to make matters worse, he superimposes a red flashing effect. It’s
an odd decision for a veteran of the movie industry
to make. Whose point of view are we supposed to be
seeing these flash-forwards from? At least, with most
flashbacks there is usually a perceptual context they are
being shown in. That is not the case with these fourthwall breaking moments of cinematic prescience.
Another poor editing choice is made in the first
act, in which scenes of the family leaving London are
intercut with flashbacks to the weeks before, in which
significant amounts of exposition are dropped. While
it is, in general, easy to follow when each scene is
taking place, jumbling the scenes chronologically adds
nothing to the story. A linear narrative would have
given some opportunity to see the characters in a more
“normal” environment and then observe them as they
realise the world as they know it is coming to an end.
Finally, the action scenes are hampered by poor choreography and slow pacing. An extended fight with a
biker gang is meant to lend a kinetic punch to the film;
it is edited and staged so poorly, however, that it brings
the film’s climatic momentum to a halt.
There is some distracting narration, in which
Wilde explains to the audience how the Earth has been
brought to the brink of destruction. It is unnecessary,
since the images and in-story exposition provide the
same information. It’s unclear why Wilde did this, other than a fear that the audience needed to have certain
points hammered home. A basic rule of cinema is that
it is always better to show, not tell. A similarly themed
contemporary of No Blade of Grass, Soylent Green
(1973), offers a much better example of conveying the
rise and fall of civilisation. It the case of that film, a series of images set to a rising and falling score that tells
the exact same story of the rise of the modern, industrial world and its baleful effects on the planet without
resorting to a single word of narration.
The soundtrack is the weakest part of the film.

From Roger Wittiker’s maudlin theme song to the “action” music that would not be out of place on a Sixties
TV show, the music does nothing to add to the images
and seems at odds with the tone of the film. The worst
musical decision was to have a psychedelic rock song
playing while Ann and Mary are being assaulted. It
is so out of place, lacking any sense of seriousness or
gravity, that it detracts from the otherwise harrowing
scene.
The acting is of varying quality. Nigel Davenport and Anthony May both bring weight to their
characters. They admirably convey the nuances of their
characters. Less impressive are Jean Wallace (Cornel
Wilde’s wife at the time), Wendy Richard and Lynne
Frederick. Wallace and Frederick seem to be more
bored than anything else, while Richard plays her oversexed doxy as shrilly as possible. The rest of the cast,
including John Hamill, are playing one note characters.
Which points to another problem with the film. While
ostensibly about a family trying to survive an unimaginable disaster, it really is about the themes being
presented. The characters all feel thin, because they are
not Wilde’s focal point. He wanted to make a commentary about the state of the world and where it was
heading. The final line in the film, quoted at the beginning of this review, makes it clear what he was striving
for. He says it is a “motion picture” not a “documentary.” It is clear, however, ѡ