On the Beach

Watching "On the Beach" (1959) with Anthony Perkins, Gregory Peck, Fred Astaire and Ava Gardner. I came across it after reading the novel by Nevil Shute, which I'd heard about when reading of people other writers enjoyed.

It's a good book and a good movie. A sad reminder also that Anthony Perkins deserved far better than the "Psycho" typecast.

The premise: Nuclear war has wiped out the northern hemisphere. The only continent left unharmed is Australia, but the nuclear fallout is blowing south. It's just a matter of four or five months before the Australians die from radiation poisoning.

People are still leading their lives despite perfect knowledge they will die soon. Young couples with newborns, bibulous middle-aged fools, farmers continuing to tend land and animals. That's the backdrop. An American nuclear sub that made it to Australia after the war is sent up the American west coast to explore a random radio signal.

It might have resonated with me a little more than it should have due to the the oil nimbi roiling their way toward our southern coasts. It's rendered dispassionately in the book and fairly so in the movie, which was shot is a rough black and white. I can't imagine a movie about rational, comely, normal adults facing death fairing well in today's market. No explosions. No action. Just life ending.