Night of the Comet (1984). The 80s were a confusing time. Night of the Comet serves as an embarrassing reminder that I was not in a coma when argyle socks and horrible hair were in. But this fine flick is more than a cheesy zombie offering with its hooks firmly entrenched in a past that has earned millions for psychologists. Many have claimed this to be a tribute to schlocky sci-fi of the 50s and 60s. But more than that, it takes a circuitous route in the exploration of loneliness and isolation, weaving it seamlessly into this apparent zombie parody. Pretty neat.
The story appeared as a loose affair but was actually pretty tight. Though there were a couple of times that it lagged a bit, calling into question just what was I doing watching such silliness, Sam's incredibly biting valley girl dialog would remind me of how much fun I was having. Things really don't heat up until the third act, but a bundle of fun is to be had from here on out.
The acting, while not the greatest ever, would not have worked had it been better than it was. My guess is that the actors were almost held back from exhibiting their acting prowess to keep the feel of Comet from getting away from itself. That said, there was never a cringe-worthy moment elicited from the cast, and maybe their restraint is more a testament to their abilities.
The direction was solid as well. But what really caught my eye was the camera work. Where the rest of the talent felt appropriately in check, the photography was allowed to really shine, and not in that "hey look at me and how great I am with my camera" kinda way. Shot compositions were expertly framed to exact just the right psychological response from the viewer but sans the ego obtrusively butting in for obnoxious approval. Not that I am against that sort of thing, but here it would have been inappropriate. My guess is that the director's hand played a large part influencing the cinematographer's hand. Either way it works and we the viewers are the clear winners.
In the end, Comet is End of the World fun that can be enjoyed for both its schlocky simplicity or its cryptic profundity. Merci.
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Fate is my mistress, mother of the cruel abomination that is hope.
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