People often say that the only things certain in life are death and taxes. But what if the government, along with a vast majority of the population, were suddenly obliterated? What are the certainties of life in a post-apocalyptic world? Death keeps its hold, but in a desert world scorched by nuclear holocaust or a zombie plague, death has a new partner in inevitability: sex.
Sure, sex is already as ubiquitous as taxes, but plenty of post-apocalyptic movies point out that sex gains a renewed importance in a world devoid of order. Even in films that are not specifically about sexuality after the implosion of society, sex is still an important linchpin. In the modern-day zombie classic 28 Days Later (mild spoilers follow), our heroes-on-the-run, Jim, Selena, and Hannah, find relative safety in a mansion fortified by a small band of soldiers. Before long, the all male band of troops begin making not-so-subtle overtures to the two young women. Their captain, in a futile attempt to persuade Jim to disregard the well-being of his friends, pleads, “But I promised them women!” Jim’s refusal to condone this flesh trade nearly gets him killed, but the potency of the zombie plague has a poetic way of enacting revenge on his behalf.
After the jump, “carnal desire” gains a whole new meaning…
At the Guardian, Andrew Pulver laments the fall Derek Jarman (and the personal, high-art cinema he made and represented) from cinephile fashion. He blames this in part on the revival of the commercial British film industry:
One problem is the seismic shift of the cinematic landscape since Jarman’s death in 1994, the same year that saw the release of Four Weddings and a Funeral. One of Jarman’s main weapons had been that, in the Thatcher era, there was no one else putting out Britain-centred product so enthusiastically. His small-scale, personalised vision undoubtedly helped him survive the 1980s and, to some extent, prosper. But with the revival of the commercial end of the British film industry, the very people who most resented Jarman’s productivity regained the initiative. After his death, his cinematic influence virtually vanished.
The idea of Jarman as a “Britain-centred” filmmaker reminded me of one of the things I found most frustrating about Derek, Isaac Julien and Tilda Swinton’s collaborative, impressionist doc on their late friend, which I saw at Sundance last month (Pulver mentions both Julien and Swinton but not the film, although I have to imagine this post was in part motivated by Derek’s premiere this week in Berlin).
