Day the World Ended

The year 1955 was a significant one since it marked Roger Corman’s directorial debut, and here he takes the helm of his first sci-fi-flavored work (if you don’t count his uncredited direction of some scenes of that same year’s “The Beast with a Million Eyes”, 1955). “The Day the World Ended” is a dialogue-heavy, post-apocalyptic story that, despite its paltry budget and sub-par acting, gets credit for tackling some themes and situations long before they would become commonplace in sci-fi films.

Right from its opening scenes, the plot focuses on the psychological and relationship dynamics of an assorted group of unfortunate individuals who, surrounded by a suddenly hostile world (“And over all the lands and walkers of the Earth, hangs the atomic haze of death“) and besieged by mysterious deadly forces (“There’s no such thing as logic anymore“), find themselves forced to cohabitate within the narrow confines of an isolated valley. Conflicts, urges, and petty jealousies quickly erupt, undermining any chance of constructive cooperation among the disparate survivors (in that regard, it’s a bit like watching a prototype of a George A. Romero film).

Basically, the film scrutinizes the human race with a rather unflattering lens. Humanity is depicted as being the cause of their own suffering (directly attributable to the irresponsible use of nuclear energy), while simultaneously proving incapable of coming together to remedy the situation. This is the point where (Christian) faith is presented as the only route to salvation for a capricious humanity – a questionable theory, to say the least, but in the realm of 1950s sci-fi movies, a good number of people subscribed to it (a prime example is Byron Haskin’s “War of the Worlds“, 1953). In that regard, we’re forced to endure a myriad of “Deo gratias” lines such as: “Man created it [the mutant monster], but God destroyed it“; “My brother believed the Bible gave strength and revealed a plan for everything“; “But there is a force more powerful than man, and in His infinite wisdom He has spared of you“.

After that barrage comes the pre-finale with its divine purifying rain (and with that, the earlier analogy to Romero is suddenly washed away). Far more interesting, however, is the social reflection reminiscent of Richard Matheson, with the mutant “monstrosity of the atomic world” seen as something along the lines of a new sentient species actively competing with “Homo sapiens” over resources and for its very survival (“There are two forms of life fighting for survival here in this valley, and only one of them can win“).

On the figurative level, this absurd-looking post-Apocalyptic creature leaves plenty to be desired. A cheesy, horned, three-eyed mutant clumsily making his way, swatting away bullets like they were mosquitoes… it’s a good thing that he’s revealed in his full glory only 10 minutes shy of the final credits.

Well, as everyone knows… Corman’s films aren’t suited for refined palates.