In years past, apocalyptic scenarios were most commonly seen in cult classics and midnight drive-in movies. These pieces of art could be incredibly influential, sure, but they stood out amongst a crowd of other works that looked nothing like them. More recently, the apocalypse has begun to invade our mainstream entertainment in larger numbers, from some of the top rated cable TV shows to big screen superhero spectacles. Entertainment that had previously been about saving the city is now about saving the world – and, occasionally, about reckoning with a world that is already lost. Artists are asking us increasingly often to make peace with the end of mankind. Where does this come from? Why now? And is there any room for my story about the end of the world in this deluge of apocalyptic art?
Analysis has found that ‘camp’ has an upswing in popularity when audiences are going through good times. The economy is in good shape, we’re enjoying our successes, and we’re laughing at absurdities on the TV screen because we got nothing to worry about. During these more care-free days, the noir-ish Batman comics became campy live-action cartoons on TV and the nuclear bomb allegory of Godzilla became a giant superhero with a fanbase of children. We’re not in those care-free days anymore and our art is reflecting that. In 2016, Batman killed some guys in Batman v. Superman (something he’s not exactly known for) and Shin Godzilla straight up torched the Prime Minister of Japan. Bond is grumpier than ever. Superman snapped a dude’s neck. It seems natural that apocalyptic stories would find a place as everything shifts into darker territory.
In addition to the times and today’s art being darker, we must also recognize that the world is changing in frightening ways. Global warming is responsible for melting the ice caps, raising sea levels, killing coral reefs, eliminating invisible heat boundaries that kept certain viruses from spreading, and powerful people who decide it’s not a threat keep us on course with a potential apocalypse of our own making. As I type this, a hurricane of seemingly biblical proportions is racing towards the Carolinas. Not long ago, it seemed like most of California was on fire. There was just a major typhoon in Japan and one of my Facebook friends is currently on his tenth day without power. The natural disasters are happening more often and, despite our new scientific readiness, they’re seemingly more damaging than before. We have a sense that we are heading towards something and it influences our art. But more than that, we have evidence of current destruction and doom on the TV now. It’s not some ‘potential future.’ Ask Puerto Rico if they think the threat of super storms is overblown. Take a look at photos of the aftermath of Katrina. These are present threats and they inform both our lives and our art. There’s a reason why end of the world movies look familiar sometimes. Add to these natural disasters with other manmade chaos like terrorism, the refugee crisis, and war, and you have a lot of inspiration for how to depict the end. More than that, you have an outlet for your very understandable concerns.
But it’s important to say something useful; otherwise you’re just exploiting our fear. One of the best things about genre entertainment is that it can say so much about current struggles without coming across as preachy. As writers, we’re designing our own end of the world with these stories. We can comment on what was the death knell for humanity and the lessons that can be learned from it… And yes, we can have some fun doing it, too.
Bong Joon-ho’s Snowpiercer (2013) is about science making a mistake in its attempt to fix the problem of global warming and freezing the world in an endless winter. As the film progresses, the story grows less concerned about what caused the end and more about how we survive it. The film’s survivors (potentially the last on earth?), ride out the winter on a train that never stops. They are divided by class, with poor people (who sometimes have to resort to cannibalism( in the back, and rich people who live like kings at the front. This class warfare is an extension of how the world exists today, albeit in more cramped and far deadlier surroundings. We see something very similar play out in Hugh Howey’s Wool (2011), which has people living in silos after the end of the world. You even see this class warfare play out in Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) as Immortan Joe lives in a palace above the world and rations out water like it’s gold. “Do not, my friends, become addicted to water! It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence!”
The Planet of the Apes series has always been about the end of the world. Sometimes the movies are talking about nuclear annihilation, other times racism, and more recently deadly contagion. What I like about the new trilogy of films, which capped off with its finest entry War for the Planet of the Apes (2017), is that it asks the audience to make peace with the end. Sure, the final entry of the trilogy has winks that make us think about how it may lead to the circumstances of the original films, but more than that it wants us to wonder about the world that comes after humanity. The new dominant species, the new culture, the new civilization. The trilogy is less concerned with showing us how the world ends than with how the good guys accept their new role and how the bad guys want to go down swinging.
‘Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.’ – Cormac McCarthy, The Road
Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (2006) never gives us a clear idea of how the world ended beyond the ash that now chokes the air and blocks the sun. To the filmmaker’s credit, John Hillcoat’s adaptation (2009) also denies us the understanding of what caused the catastrophe that our characters must now contend with. The Road is more interested in the collapse of humanity that follows the collapse of the world, complete with slaves, thieves, and cannibalism. But even more than that, it’s about the bond between father and son and ‘carrying the fire’ of goodness. When things are at their worst – and oh boy, The Road definitely depicts things at their worst – it’s the love between father and son that keeps the story going and prevents it from descending into misery porn. The man and the boy (they are never given names) could be anyone of us who think ourselves good, decent people in an indecent world after the end. The father makes heartbreaking decisions more than once and the novel invites us to pass judgment, but would we really be so different if we were put in the position of defending our children?
Godzilla director Ishiro Honda repeatedly returned to the idea of humanity coming together in order to conquer a common threat. He perceived the UN and scientists of the world as a shining beacon of hope. In The Mysterians (1957), alien invaders want land and our Earth women, and the world’s greatest minds come together to construct new lasers (called ‘Masers’) to defeat them. In Atragon (1963), the underwater empire of Mu wants to claim the surface world, and the warriors of Japan’s past and present must unite to deny them. In Monster Zero (1965), aliens abduct Godzilla and Rodan so that the Earth is defenseless, and it’s up to a Japanese man, an American man, and an alien woman to work together to defeat them. I love these movies.
When I wrote my kaiju novel, In the Shadow of Extinction (2018), I dedicated it to Honda and the other Godzilla creators who inspired me to write the book. But I do not necessarily share Honda’s optimism about humanity coming together. In my book, kaiju rise up from their deep sleep in volcanoes across the world, but instead of humanity coming together, we panic and turn on one another. When man could’ve possibly defeated the kaiju with a united front, the nations of the world forgot their alliances, ignored the greater threat, and used weapons of war in a final gasp of horror. The world ends to the sound of nuclear bombs – a threat Honda also feared, as the original Godzilla (1954) had the monster act as the walking embodiment of nuclear annihilation. A bulk of In the Shadow of Extinction takes place after the apocalypse as man learns to contend with the kaiju as well as those who still see war as the answer to all our problems.
The slowly creeping closer apocalypse depicted in Children of Men (2006) is kicked off by the failing birth rate in the world. But that film is just as much about human rights and the fight for refugees in a civilization that’s gone radical in its treatment of people it perceives do not belong. Children of Men’s themes only seem more relevant today in the wake of the Syrian refugee crisis and the caging of children coming into America by the Trump administration. It might be backdrop in a film about the world’s last pregnant woman but it’s important backdrop. Unlike other books and films listed in this piece, ‘no more babies’ is not an apocalyptic scenario that has much bearing on the world we live in today, and yet the backdrop of refugees, fascism, and terrorism make it feel relevant. What issues of the world today can you fit into an otherwise totally fictional apocalypse?
The apocalypse is popping up in places you would’ve never expected just 20 years ago. Pixar’s WALL-E (2008) is about humanity leaving the Earth after we basically kill it with our wasteful habits and environmental abuse – it’s a family film but it’s very clearly about life after the end of the world. And it’s a movie with a Charlie Chaplin-like robot Tramp as its hero. It’s lovely, full of heart and humor. But it definitely has something to say. Avengers: Infinity War (2018) is very fantastical but at its core it’s about a tyrant searching for a WMD because he thinks that weapon can save us all. Hell, even Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom (2018) flirts with apocalyptic themes. Jeff Goldblum’s doomsayer Ian Malcolm warns us about “manmade cataclysmic change,” as he talks about the enormous threat that genetic power in the hands of the wrong people poses to the world. Logan (2017) is about a world after the mutants have largely died out and the survivors are forced to flee from government forces – that may not be an apocalyptic scenario for the entire world but for one hunted people it is very much about the end. The list goes on.
It’s good to get engaged and maybe find a way to right the course that humanity has taken. Vote for the right people, recycle, and don’t play with rage viruses. But in your off days, consider the value of writing apocalyptic fiction and film. As writers and as observers of the world, we have a special way of having our say, whether you want to tackle the issue head on or sneak it into a story about robots in love.
*hums* It’s the end of the world as we know it… and I’m writing a book.
