American
International Pictures (AIP) is known for its budgeted productions,
horror films, and sensationalism. By the end of the Sixties, they
transitioned to violent motorcycle gang films. Only hinting at that
future is this science fiction black and white survival film,
destined upon completion to be a double feature. Using the crew from
Roger Corman Productions (Santa Clara Productions), it was
produced by Arnold Houghland and Lou Rusoff. The fast-paced
screenplay is by John Morton and Jay Simms, helping make the film
profitable. It would have to be an awful film to not turn a profit
from a 225-grand budget. Up to the halfway point, the film is
captivating with non-stop action and tension, set during the height
of the Cold War. The second half slows considerably and gets more
violent as a trio of lawless hep-cat thugs get their kicks by
looting, female sexual assaults, and cold-blooded murder. These are
the less-than-zero-trio.
Leading
the Baldwin family on vacation to the mountains is the star and director, Ray Milland. His
co-starring family consists of Jean Hagen, Frankie Avalon, and television's Mary
Mitchel. With this film's success, Avalon made several pictures for AIP, mainly at a beach. Featured prominently is a 1962 Mercury Monterey with a
Kenskill travel trailer in tow. As the family heads for their mountain vacation, from miles away, they witness the
bright flash of an atomic explosion. The special effect painting of a distant nuclear cloud over Los Angeles looked
believable enough, but their second look back was spliced-in nuclear test footage
that looked more like a large smoke signal from several Indian tribes.
Slightly long at ninety-three minutes, the film's editor, William Austin, out of budget constraints or simply following directives, pads the film with repeated footage—albeit from different angles—of the same automobiles in their high-speed escape into the mountains. The film could have done without the many abrupt post-production editing implausibilities. These cheapen an otherwise exciting first half. Splicing in frequent, three-second close-ups of the Mercury Monterey's wheels, with an odd sound effect like bad wheel bearings, is another example. There are close-up blurs of automobiles zipping by, and poor-quality stock footage of multi-lane automobile traffic from a totally different location and vantage point. At first, the family decides to turn back to Los Angeles. But going in the opposite direction are escaping citizens, recklessly speeding up the two-lane mountain highway—on blind curves or blocking both lanes—as maniacal stunt drivers leave the Baldwins little space to drive. It is too perfectly arranged to be believed.
On the plus side, one could not have a better survival leader during a nuclear winter than Mr. Baldwin. Milland's character knows precisely what to do and how many supplies they will need—perhaps his dry-run panic during the 1958 recession may have helped. The family uses a damp, chilly Prehistoric cave as their home. Before partaking in their first cave meal together, Milland asks for God's protection with prayer. He had vowed earlier to protect his family by whatever means, including physically assaulting a store owner at gunpoint, decking a gas station attendant, crashing through a barricade after being asked to turn around, destroying a bridge that might give others access to their food, and making deadly, vigilante use of his hunting rifles. Perhaps a prayer of forgiveness will be forthcoming.
Note: The opening jazz score by big band legend Les Baxter provided no sense of doom or tension. It is, however, befitting the assumed lawlessness after a nuclear attack. Today, it would only take a jury's decision with which a group of myopic, ignorant thugs disagrees. But I digress. The film's opening is focused on a car's radio, so maybe the music was cleverly coming from there. It simply is misplaced music of the era to start the film—given its main theme—rather than a gang of idle teenagers succumbing to a life of crime.
