How To End The World
Apocalypse movies walk a fine line.
I don’t know if you’ve been following the news, but things aren’t going great right now. Things have gotten so bad that even this relatively obscure movie newsletter has to address things: Immigrants, good. ICE, evil. Genocide, bad. Trump, idiot. Everything, exhausting.
Now that we’ve got all of that over with—I think everyone reading this would (hopefully) agree with me on those very simple points—I want to talk about the end-of-the-world movie, something that’s been lurking since that train came right at the screen and filmgoers thought they were about to die.
Since L'Arrivée d'un train en gare de La Ciotat in the late 19th century, filmmakers have consistently created stories about the end of the world. And how could they not? Death is fascinating, as is guessing at what’s going to be our eventual demise. It’s something that affects everyone of us, so it would be foolish not to incorporate it into our art.
Every movie is at least partially about our own mortality and/or making something of ourselves. The Brutalist? Of course. Agent Cody Banks? I mean, yes.
There are obviously good versions and bad versions of a cultural-reckoning movie, but recently, there’s been a rejuvenated subgenre: Too on-the-nose, politically-conscious diatribes (usually mawkish) that have nothing new to say other than this is bad!
Oftentimes, I agree with the director and writer’s politics, and yet, that doesn’t make a good movie. Think of all the late-night Trump jokes that end with polite clapter.
There’s something about someone making something to be agreed with that is monotonous and oftentimes worse than something that reaches for a point, even if it doesn’t land the plane.
All of this is a prologue to The Life of Chuck.
The Life of Chuck isn’t purely a response to Trump-era politics; however, it’s tough to read it as anything but a repudiation of how we all live our lives1. In a reverse three-act structure, this Mike Flanagan-directed picture begins with the end of the world, which has been wrought by environmental disasters, political malpractice and everyone keeping their heads in the sand. I mean, it’s not tough to see what this is alluding to. And it’s frankly nauseating.
There are only so many times I can see “channel-surfing of bad things happening on the news” on the big screen, and this sci-fi-esque plot feels like it could be pulled from our own headlines with nothing extra to say. The movie ultimately has little to add other than the true but uninteresting monikers of “life is worth living” and “everyone should be a little nicer to each other.” Not wrong in principle, but wrong when there’s no there there backing it up. The dialogue is especially hacky, with contrived monologues about our time on earth and prolonged musical sequences bookmarked by contrived plots about death.
Things get a little better in the second two acts, where Tom Hiddleston does some dancing and a nothing-special-but-well-acted family tragedy comes into play; however, I found the entire thing lacking dramatic tension and cloyingly sentimental. One reviewer lovingly called it a “Disney movie for adults," which I agree with, except for the positive spin.
What The Life of Chuck reminded me of were two other exhausting, Trump-era movies that similarly had nothing to say while also saying nothing loudly. Those are Adam McKay’s cloying comedy(?) Don't Look Up and Sam Esmail’s nothingburger Leave the World Behind. Both movies attracted impressive talent, including but not limited to Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Cate Blanchett, Timothée Chalamet, Julia Roberts and Mahershala Ali, and were ultimately some of the worst movies of their respective years.
These apocalyptic stories must read well on the page, because I don’t understand how else they’d get made. There’s such a thing as being too on the nose, and all three of these movies hit that quota a half hour in. You’re making a movie, for god’s sake. Why even put these stories on film if most of it is people standing around talking about things being bad? Just make an NPR podcast at that point.
I think the main problem (at least in my view) is that there’s no separation from what’s happening. Don’t Look Up is the worst of this, creating plenty of GOP, Fox News anchor and tech bro stand-ins, prompting most of the movie to become a game of “who’s this supposed to be?” At that point, produce a documentary or give some money to your local left-leaning representative. You’re just yelling into the void and not giving audiences anything of value. I’m mad too. Things are bad. Don’t make me watch a bad movie because we have the same ideology.
I’ve found that the end-of-the-world movies that stick with me are the ones commenting on the world without being too in-your-face about it and creating a bit of distance despite obvious resemblances to our world.
Yes, easy parallels can be made from Melancholia, Children of Men, Mad Max: Fury Road and Snowpiercer to the environmental crises or fascism constantly plaguing us, but there’s a level of removal—partially due to their more specific genre elements, emphasis on character arcs and ability to create new dystopias—that has each story feeling fresh and less of a boring rant.
Last year, my friend
and I went to the Toronto International Film Festival and tried our best to see the much-ballyhooed The Life of Chuck. We ultimately couldn’t snag a ticket and found ourselves sitting in a theater waiting for The Shadow Strays when we saw that the sappy Stephen King adaptation won TIFF’s People's Choice Award.It beat out Emilia Pérez2, but also much, much better movies like Anora, The Substance and Will & Harper. The People’s Choice Award is purely a fan vote on the most popular movie at the festival, but it’s become a bellwether for the Oscars and an immediate boost for contender status.
I have no doubt that this movie will firmly be around for a while, so I want to plant my flag early and say … We can do better than this. I mean, come on. This vote has also awarded work like Green Book, Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri and Belfast, so sometimes you just gotta admit that people are idiots and move on.
I understand that you’re upset about the world. I am, too. Let’s not make things the slightest bit worse by rewarding cheesy movies with nothing to say.
Which is more than fair. No argument that we’re fucking things up.
lol
How does this relate to Wonder Woman 1984?