Lovesusti The Worst Film Ever

Unlimitedia Sick Product of a Sick System

Allison Davies The film never slows down or bores, plunging from one harrowing sequence to the next.

Ezmae Chang This is a small, humorous movie in some ways, but it has a huge heart. What a nice experience.

Rob_Taylor When I was a LOT younger I remember seeing this film and being fascinated by it. As time passed and I grew older, I forgot the details until all I could remember was an apocalypse movie with some singer in it that my mother had liked. As the years passed I forgot it completely and it was only recently that I came across it again and had the pleasure of watching it as an adult.To watch it now only highlights how far we've come as a society. Sometimes we forget, immersed in our day-to-day troubles, just how much better times are now. We have evolved, as a society, but to those of us who are part of that evolution, the changes happen so slowly we don't notice them. At least, not until something like this movie is revisited to see how things WERE.The story follows the fortunes of a young black engineer after a mysterious apocalyptic event destroys all trace of humanity from the Earth. Man's works are left behind, but of man himself there is, for the early part of the film, only Belafonte's character.With typical stoicism born of the post-war era, Belafonte first digs himself free of a collapsed mine, then sets about making a home for himself in the empty city. Bereft of companionship, his future looks a lonely one as he slowly pieces together what has happened to the world.Of course, he soon discovers a white female survivor and this is where the film really starts to shine. The interplay between the two is electric and both Belafonte and Stevens give dynamic performances as they struggle to come to terms with their growing attraction to one another. Belafonte is particularly adept at getting across how the mindset of non-whites led them to believe they were inferior.Given the time the film was made this in itself would be enough to make a fantastic film, but it's not enough for this movie. After a period where Belafonte and Steven's characters seem to have come to some sort of "truce" between themselves, they discover a third survivor - a white male.Needless to say, the character dynamic undergoes a dramatic change, with Ferrer's white character trying to dominate the trio and taking an interest in Steven's female character.All the usual love-triangle difficulties arise, made all the more intense because of the inter-racial aspect. As tensions mount, the two males eventually come to blows over the female regardless of her wishes in the matter.So, what we have are inter-racials tensions along with (for the time) typical male misogyny.The film is essentially this dynamic played out to an extreme. However, it is in fact the final scenes of the movie that really set it apart as something phenomenal.Having fought and nearly killed each other, it seems set that the men will go their separate ways and the woman must choose one of them. However, with a truly unique twist, she chooses them both and the final scene is the three of them walking off into the distance, hand in hand whilst over the top of the scene appear the words "The beginning.." It may not sound like much, but for 1959 this was a truly epic scene to put on celluloid. The notion that a white woman might have relations with a black man let alone (as hinted strongly here) that there might be a threesome going on, was something that just wasn't done.For those who didn't grow up with any of that racial or sexist nonsense, it might seem bizarre or unrealistic that such things were a big deal. And for you, the best equivalent I could cite in today's world as a similar taboo might involve a brother/sister incest relationship. It really was that big a deal back then.Films like this are often forgotten, or ignored on channel playlists because of their age or content. This is a massive shame, because there are some truly magnificent films out there that are fading almost into myth because of a lack of exposure.It is films like this that show us just how far we've come in fifty odd years. But it is also films like this that show us that, even back then, there were those who hoped for change and expressed that hope and desire through the medium of film.If you like a good, tense character drama, then you'll not find many better than this one.

Coventry Wow, this must be one of the most "ahead of their time" movies ever made! Back in a decade where the Sci-Fi genre almost exclusively existed of cheesy outer space invasion movies and tacky B-monster flicks, "The World, the Flesh and The Devil" brings an emotionally devastating and deeply discomforting portrait of a post-apocalyptic big blue marble. Richard Matheson wrote his hugely famous novella "I Am Legend" five years earlier in 1954 already, but this is cinema and also very different & innovating. Matheson's tale, which received three major film versions over the years, is primarily a Sci-Fi spectacle with the last man on earth battling against mutant creators or albino vampires, whereas this is merely a socially engaging drama unafraid to cover taboo topics like interracial rivalry, cultural differences, selfishness and mental collapsing. Quite courageous and ambitious aims for a low-budgeted movie, and I don't at all intend to claim "The World, the Flesh and the Devil" is a masterpiece or anything, but it's definitely an intriguing and praiseworthy effort with a reasonable amount of monumental sequences, horridly void locations and great acting.After being trapped in a collapsed mine for five days, the optimistic (as he keeps serenading) and colored Ralph Burton gives up hope of being rescued and digs his own way out. To Ralph's astonishment, there's not a living soul in sight and even the giant city of New York is godforsaken. Following a reluctant process of accepting his position, Ralph courageously begins to rebuild his own private civilization with decorated buildings, electricity generators and even mannequin dolls for company. Then Sarah Crandall, another and female survivor, appears and the two build up a tight friendship even though Ralph maintains an unnatural distance between them. Several weeks and minor incidents later, a third survivor literally sails onto dry land and, like the ancient expression says, three's always a crowd. The while and confident Benson Thacker clearly intends to make advances with Sarah and sees a threatening competitor in Ralph. Talk about hopelessness when even the last three survivors can't even get along!Particularly the first hour of "The World, the Flesh and the Devil" is very solid. The footage of Ralph wandering around the empty streets of NY in despair, or the sequences where he desperately tries to radio-contact others but eventually reverts to talking to plastic dolls, are unimaginably powerful. The romantic tension between him and Sarah as well result in a handful of superb moments, especially since director Ranald MacDougall genuinely generates the impression that they really are the last ones left and thus mankind's final hope for survival. Unfortunately, but like the title slightly forebodes already, the film eventually becomes too lyric, morally preachy and overly symbolic. The three main (and only) characters gradually alter into walking, talking exemplifications of their values and beliefs and their behavior simply isn't plausible. I just cannot believe that Ralph would react the way he does to certain situations, regardless of the fact he's black and presumably lived a life of oppression before the day of the apocalypse. Speaking of which, apart from the emptiness on city streets, there are very little signs indicating the end of the world. The areas are clean, the buildings are intact and there are no traces of possible mass hysteria. It is hinted that sodium clouds of dust caused the total annihilation of mankind, but it looks more like all humanity just vaporised into thin air. Shouldn't there be small piles of ashes and remnants of clothes all over the streets, or something? Obviously, the lack of horrific images and special effects in general are due to budgetary restrictions. Heck, the excessively moralist speeches are probably also meant to divert the attention from typical Sci-Fi scenery and stunt work. The final 15-20 minutes are quite preposterous, I must admit, but if you have a far-ranging sense of humor, you might still appreciate it. There's actually quite a lot of humor in "The World, the Flesh and the Devil", albeit it's often very repressed and dry. All the typical 'last man on earth' jokes pass the revue, but they're quite funny, like when Ralph rejects Sarah's proposal of moving in together by saying "the neighbors might talk". Good old Harry Belafonte is excellent in one of the only lead performances of his career and literally overpowers his male opponent, veteran and multi-versatile actor Mel Ferrer. Inger Stevens is simply ravishing. It's a damn shame she committed suicide at the age of 36; barely 11 years after the release of this film. In spite of some defaults "The World, the Flesh and The Devil" is a definite must-see for fans of intelligent Sci-Fi and extra suggested for people who saw and loved all the other entries in the "Last Man on Earth" sub genre.

Neil Doyle The writer took an interesting premise and kept it going with some credibility for the first half-hour. But the moment that HARRY BELAFONTE finds that he's not alone in the world and INGER STEVENS enters the story, it falls apart faster than you can blink. Nor are the interracial aspects of the friendship between Stevens and Belafonte played in a realistic way.Even given the fact that this is science fiction, and we always have to suspend some disbelief to enjoy such a tale, there are too many plot contrivances that don't make sense. Stevens' character has been following Belafonte around for a couple of weeks before she dares to make a connection to him--highly unlikely. MEL FERRER turns up on a river barge having been all over the world looking for survivors and found none--apparently not even bodies. And yet we see pigeons on the streets of New York City early in the morning but a complete lack of corpses anywhere. Nevertheless, stores and wiring and electricity are almost untouched and there's even running water in the kitchen.But what keeps the film on a lower level is the talent involved. HARRY BELAFONTE gives the most genuine performance here, but that's not saying much when you have the wooden MEL FERRER and the overly emotional INGER STEVENS tossing off lines as though they were doing a run through rehearsal for the senior play. Belafonte is fortunate in that his character seems the most logical and inventive of the three, while the plot gets sillier the moment the men start arguing over the attractive blonde and some racial remarks are made.It doesn't help that the dialog is often childish or stilted and that Ranald MacDougall's screenplay and direction is unable to bring these characters alive and give them any depth. After the realistic first half-hour, the rest of the film is a letdown.Miklos Rozsa's score is fittingly as low-key as the scenes showing a deserted city, but it has to be one of his least memorable works.

nycritic The end of the world as we know it and only three people remain. With an intriguing title, THE WORLD, THE FLESH, AND THE DEVIL is a mostly forgotten film directed by Ranald MacDougall, screenwriter for some of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford's vehicles from the late 1940s. It tries to flesh out a grim apocalyptic story about what would happen if the world and civilization as we know it came to an abrupt end, and all that was left, at least so far, was a smattering of humans, each of them believing that they were the only ones left.Post-apocalyptic stories have been around for ages -- since the Bible's own last chapter, "Revelations". When it wasn't an alien race deciding to take over our planet for their own purposes of blind conquer in H. G. Wells "War of the Worlds" it was the world turned upside down by the sudden mutation of humankind into vampires, as in Richard Matheson's "I Am Legend." Until the reality of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and the mega-powers of the world experimenting with nuclear energy harnessed as the means of mass annihilation took force in the 1940s, science-fiction was little more than tales about Moon colonies, Martian cities, space adventures in other worlds and time travel. Robert A. Heinlein, one of the front-runners of social science fiction, was already writing stories around 1940 based on the potential for human extinction through nuclear warfare. His short story "The Year of the Jackpot" which appeared in 1952 and was part of an anthology called "The Menace from Earth" tackled the destruction of the Earth by nuclear warheads and is one of the most gripping stories of mankind's need for survival even when the odds are against it. The last paragraphs, where the man and the woman await their final end as the Sun sets, is haunting.THE WORLD, THE FLESH, AND THE DEVIL might as well have been a sequel to "The Year of the Jackpot" told by the points of view of the survivors of this horrific nuclear attack that has destroyed the Earth on a global level. The first half hour is an extended silent film where images of a desolate land prevail as the main character, Ralph (played by Harry Belafonte), emerges from the mine where he's been trapped and finds an overpowering, endless sea of a world where time has frozen and no one is to be found. His slow approach to the truth of the matter is gut-wrenching in its vapid horror -- seeing even little things, like an abandoned umbrella or an empty house. It recalls a much later movie about a different, but equally lethal situation in 28 DAYS LATER... as Cillian Murphy walks among the wreck of a deserted London, unaware he's not alone.But Ralph thinks he is alone. Arriving at New York in a progressive sequence of images is a knot of foreboding, quiet menace. It seems, at times, he must have fallen through a worm-hole and into a mirror image of the city. Enclosed in darkness, it looms at him so menacingly there is the feeling he would be better off doing an about-face and going elsewhere. The camera tracks his progress, making sure we know just how small he is in a sea of skyscrapers with not a single human in them. Once he discovers the truth, Belafonte's face is completely revealing in its anguish that can only express itself through his luminous face, haunted eyes, and single tear rolling down the side of his face. It's here he decides he must make do as the Last Man on Earth, trying not to lose his sanity when apparently, being sane is now as frightening as being alone.For a moment, then, the story becomes an exercise in a surreal dream. Belafonte will still be alone on camera for another stretch of time and he acts as if he still has people around him -- all the more unsettling. He has dinner with mannequins, he sings to no one in particular, and plays with his own shadow as if he were trying to make that shadow another person -- an extension of himself. When someone finally does appear, the story takes off into some different territory and loses some of its punch. When we see her, Inger Stevens is appropriately dressed in black and looks like she's just about lost her mind. She could well be in a state of extended mourning. Seeing another human should cause relief, but the movie has other melodramatic intentions, and from here on, it begins to fail. In most stories about people finding each other after a global catastrophe there's a sense of madness just underneath a facade of happy anxiety. After all, when you think you're the only person left alive and you see someone else, you're wary but equally overjoyed. MacDougall is good in focusing on this aspect -- he at first makes us see Stevens' feet as she follows Belafonte (though their appearance is too quick to make me believe Belafonte did not hear her behind him). It's when they begin interacting and she chooses to dress in suburban white and act as if nothing had happened that I felt the seams of credibility burst. Adding another male character -- Mel Ferrer's -- is good, but bad, because now it creates the basis of a possible conflict. The fact that Stevens and race is the source of conflict is practically unbelievable considering what they've gone through, but race was an issue in 1959. This of course is the problem: old patterns of conflict have to emerge in order to maintain a sense of familiarity, as in Stephen King's "The Stand." It's why these types of movies are good in concept, but fail in execution. THE WORLD, THE FLESH, AND THE DEVIL would have fit as an episode of "The Twilight Zone", but not as a 90 minute feature-length film.