The Day the Earth Caught Fire
The incredible becomes real! The impossible becomes fact! The unbelievable becomes true!
Year of Release: 1961
Genre: Science Fiction
Rated: Not Rated
Running Time: 99 minutes (1:39)
Director: Val Guest
Cast:
Edward Judd ... Peter Stenning
Janet Munro ... Jeannie Craig
Leo McKern ... Bill Maguire
Michael Goodliffe ... 'Jacko' Jackson - Night Editor
Arthur Christiansen ... 'Jeff' Jefferson - Editor
Bernard Braden ... 'Dave' Davis - News Editor
Michael Caine ... Checkpoint Policeman (uncredited)
Summary:
When the United States and the Soviet Union simultaneously set off nuclear weapons, London's Daily Express begins to report on bizarre weather changes around the world. But when the reporters dig deeper, they discover that the blasts have knocked Earth off its axis and sent it hurtling towards the sun. Now, as scorched heat and devastating floods plague the planet, cities explode in chaos and mankind is left with one last hope: A final massive detonation that will either re-balance Earth's orbit or destroy the world forever!
Review:
The Day the Earth Caught Fire, remindin' us that the nuclear football should never be in the hands of the team mascot.
And speakin' of improbable comebacks, I'm proud to announce that honor and dignity have been restored to the sport of ladies' mud wrestling, and that Chickawalka County once again has a champion people can look up to. I'm not tryna live vicariously off the woman's triumph or anything; it's just reassuring to know that all the recent female high school graduates who weren't able to meet the GPA requirements necessary to study at Eastern Oregon University have somethin' to aspire to again.
I don't mind tellin' ya that the state of the championship scene had been downright abysmal ever since Brandi Krebs won the title in controversial fashion back in September, 'cause after about a month of weekly squash matches against bored housewives that all ended with her opponents bein' rushed to Chickawalka General following a one-sided thighmastering, nobody'd even get in the pit with 'er.
Two weeks ago Wade Sawyer got desperate enough to offer $500 to anybody who could take the title off 'er and that finally got 'im a bite when Trixie Willager agreed to wrestle 'er. Strictly speaking Brandi's the one that got the bite when Trixie sank 'er fangs into Brandi's forearm while in a headlock, and although that did temporarily put the fear of God and rabies into 'er, it mostly just pissed 'er off, and when Trixie went for a leg sweep a few seconds later Brandi caught 'er by the wrist, jerked 'er to 'er feet, and flattened 'er with a modified Black Hole Slam she calls the Atomic Bombshell.
Thankfully, Trixie's had her fair share of no-holds-barred matches at the Stop and Flop over the years and was able to leave the ring under her own power and make it over to Berenstain Beers for last call, but that bite she put on Brandi seemed to bring out a mean streak that I didn't like, and although I have no residual feelins for 'er whatsoever, part of me was a little concerned when Bambi Mastrude decided to fight Brandi the next week.
As expected, Bambi accepted my concerns with maturity and weighed them carefully before doin' anything rash, like diving headlong into the clutches of a 230lb Slamazon.
"Awww! That's so sweet - don't know whatcha got till it's gone, eh?" she beamed, battin' her eyelashes at me.
"I know EXACTLY what I had no matter how long it may've taken the doctors to properly diagnose and treat it. Now pull your bra strap back up over your shoulder and hear me out here - I get that she's slow, and I get that she's stupid, but she's also strong, mean, and driven by the resentment of three nasty divorce settlements. She *likes* to hurt people, Bambi," I explained, tryin' not to appear emotionally invested.
"I didn't have nothin' to do with that third one! He told me they were separated, and besides..." she started ramblin', missin' the point as only she can.
"Bambi, try to focus here - your homewreckin' days're gonna be over if you don't watch your ass," I warned.
"But I've got YOU to do that for me," she grinned, pinchin' my cheek and rubbin' her nose against mine.
"And anyway, she hurt Trixie; it's about time she took on someone her own size. And since Killdozer ain't here, I'll be happy to oblige," she said, her smile twisting into a malevolent smirk.
Bambi fared much better than Trixie, having partaken in the sport of queens in her teen years after runnin' away to California at 17. And for a while she flat embarrassed Brandi with a deceptive agility honed through decades of tawdry affairs that often necessitated squeezing into tight places when wives and girlfriends would come home unexpectedly mid-fling. Sometimes I really miss that gal.
Brandi just couldn't seem to get a grip on Bambi to save 'er life, and after fallin' on 'er face following a spear attempt that resembled a cross-eyed bull tryna gore a fraternity pledge in the streets of Pamplona, Bambi was on 'er like ugly on a Plymouth Valient.
I guess I underestimated 'er, 'cause there's no doubt in my mind that Bambi woulda had 'er if she'd locked 'er into a Camel Clutch or a Boston Crab (Brandi's got thighs the size of telephone poles, so a Sharpshooter or Texas Clover Leaf are outta the question), but Bambi was still P.O.'d about what happened to Trixie, and so she mostly just tried drownin' Brandi in the mud until she managed to buck Bambi off and crawl on top of 'er for a cover.
Bambi barely managed to slip out at two, but by this point both women were suckin' wind like asthmatic tuba players and it was clear that the next mistake would mean the difference between goin' home with the belt or just a muddy girdle, and unfortunately, it was Bambi. I totally get what she was goin' for when she drew 'er legs back and tried to get 'em in position around Brandi's neck for a flip - just one problem with it - Brandi HAS no neck, and that lack of surface to wrap 'er ankles around resulted in Brandi grabbin' Bambi's legs and pinnin' 'em to 'er ears.
Alls I can figure is Bambi's body just wasn't used to resisting bein' placed in that position, 'cause she didn't even try to get outta the pin, and by the time she realized what'd happened it was too late to get outta the way once Brandi was up and in position for a Smiledriver. The doctors were able to reset Bambi's nose but remain uncertain about how long it'll be before the smell finally clears.
That was the last straw for me. She may be my ex-girlfriend, but she's still a human being. I knew what had to be done.
"I'm not going back," she said.
She being Randine Tankersley, barely pausing between chops to acknowledge me. A rick of split Ponderosa six feet high and 15' long lined the side of the Tankersley house. I hadn't seen 'er since the night she lost the championship, and she'd let her hair grow back out - all of it.
"Never hurts to axe," I grinned, hoping for a laugh or at least a groan that'd get my foot in the door.
"You walk all the way?" she asked, splintering another log without an ounce of amusement.
"Nah, just the last two miles or so. A friendly goat butted me to safety - Duke's pullin' the Topaz outta that tank trap you call a waterbar," I replied.
"Nice of you to check on me, but I don't wanna do it anymore. It was fun for a while, but it's not... I'm not... what they want to see," she summarized, grabbin' a handfulla face fuzz for emphasis.
"You think there're guys're in there watchin' *Brandi* for titillation? For cripes sake most of us turn our heads every thirty seconds or so just to make sure the image doesn't burn into our brains like an old CRT monitor," I insisted.
"I suppose not. But I'm--" she started to say.
"A furry's wet dream, I know," I winked.
"You know what I mean," she said, the faintest hint of a smile cracking ever so briefly.
"She's hurting people, kid. Fannie Ogglesby. Miranda Chintzley. Trisha Dinkel. Brooke Drucker. Trixie Willager. Last night she broke Bambi Mastrude's nose *after* the match was over. There's a good chance it'll be an improvement once she heals up, but this's gotta stop," I said, my sense of humor hanging on by a thread.
We stood in silence for what seemed like several minutes. The wind howled around us, the crackling of wood escaped the house's chimney, and a pair of increasingly alarmed goats bleated their co-mingled horror upon discovering how quickly bodily fluids can freeze in sub-zero temperatures, but no more words came.
I turned to go, convinced there was nothing more I could do to reach her, when suddenly, a hideous crack struck my eardrums and echoed across the mountainside, and when I turned to discover the source of the ruckus I saw the remains of the splitting maul, its two halves lying at her feet like a traitorous bat following a Bo Jackson strikeout.
"Tell Sawyer I'm coming for what's mine. And that from now on, we do things my way," she spat, before reaching down for the bladed half of the axe and slingin' it 30 yards into the grille of a decaying '58 Chevy Apache.
Come Saturday night Walleye's Topless Dancin' & Bait Shop was standing room only as word of the Krebs vs. Tankersley rematch spread, and we all watched the undercard with bated beer breath until the moment finally arrived when Brandi made 'er way across the topless dancin' runway to AC/DC's "Big Balls" as she was wont to do, the disrespect to the memory of the Hardcore Chair Swingin' Freak not lost on anyone in attendance.
Wade made it as far as "and her opponent" when In This Moment's "Big Bad Wolf" damn near blew out the speakers and Randine, hairy as the day God made 'er, stepped out from behind the curtain.
The whole place was goin' stark raving apeshit, and if you could tear your eyes away from the scene on the entrance stage you would have been treated to the sight of Brandi Krebs staring, mouth agape, at her comeuppance headin' straight for 'er in a room fulla people who couldn't wait to see her get what was comin' to her.
To her credit, Brandi regained her composure and squared up to Randine, laid the belt at her feet, and once Tetnis had finished his instructions, finally, the fight was on.
The instant Wade rang the bell Brandi grabbed two fists fulla hair and tried to pull Randine in for the same belly-to-belly suplex that cracked her ribs the last time they met, but Randine lowered her head and drove it into Brandi's nose, returning the receipt for what she'd done to Bambi the week before and blinding her with tears before plantin' her with a double-arm DDT as she doubled over clutching her face.
With Brandi down, Randine dropped onto her back, reached for an ankle, and began wrenching it until panic set in and Brandi managed to crack Randine with her free leg and stun her long enough to gain control with a side headlock, but Randine managed to slip out and drop kick Brandi into the first row where she grabbed a mug fulla Pole Cat and nearly took Tetnis' head off. Thankfully, Tetnis is a level-headed individual who calmly explained that, woman or not, if she wasted another pint of beer in his presence, he would not be held responsible for his actions and to get her hinder back in the ring or forfeit the bout.
By this point Brandi's vision was beginning to clear, and upon stepping back inside she feigned left and caught Randine off guard just enough to bring 'er in for a Diva Cleava (her whiplash Flatliner), but Randine had it scouted and stomped the ankle she'd been wrenchin' on earlier and the two of 'em went down together.
Brandi rolled over and buried an elbow into Randine's sternum, drivin' the wind out of 'er and leavin' 'er gaspin' for breath as she hoisted 'er up to end it with an Atomic Bombshell, but when she went into her spin Randine swung her legs, trapped Brandi's left arm, and jerked it backwards until Brandi had no choice but to go over or risk breakin' it, resultin' in crucifix pin that got a 2 count.
All the same, Brandi was in a bad way, and the whole room was on its feet to see the Queen of Mean go down.
Chants of GIN-GER SNAPP-ER, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap* GIN-GER SNAPP-ER, *clap-clap, clap-clap-clap* could be heard a block away over the passing freeway traffic.
Randine moved to oblige and signaled for her neckbreaker, when outta nowhere, Shad Krebs, Brandi's shitweasel nephew who cost Randine the title with his ballbrained buffoonery the last go-around (and presently dressed in drag to elude detection), reached for his serving tray, climbed up on the stage, and swung it as hard as he could at Randine's skull.
I dunno how the little runt got past Tetnis (padded bra or not) given the security around the return bout, but then I guess I didn't spot 'im either. Nobody did - 'cept Randine. And at the last moment, she spun Brandi around to face the music and Shad busted 'er right in the schnoz just before Randine leveled 'er with the Ginger Snapper. 1-2-3.
Shad tried to flee following his ill-timed swing but found his way barred by dozens of irate sports fans with long memories who stripped off his sundress and buried 'im up to his neck in the snowbank while the rest of the crowd drowned out the official announcement with chants of TANK-ERS-LEY! TANK-ERS-LEY!
Man, what a moment. What a battle. I've got chills just thinkin' about it.
Needless to say, Randine's money is no longer good at Walleyes, and seein' her accepted, and *celebrated* for who she really is - a badass were-Wookie wrestlin' machine, well, it almost gave me hope for the future of humanity.
I'll tell ya somethin' else - it's not easy tryna settle back into your natural state of disinterested cynicism after enduring an adrenaline rush like that, so to make sure I didn't do anything embarrasin', like throw my back wrestlin' Apollo for his Nerf football, I reached for a slice of 1960s Britannia cinematica. Given my 'druthers I'da preferred to grab Judy Carne but she's 85, dead, and still outta my league; so instead, I decided to check out this upbeat little melodrama about man's staying power as a species called The Day the Earth Caught Fire.
I don't wanna tell ya too much about it because it's old and British and that combination means you've already got a lotta listenin' on your plate as it is, but I would like to take a moment to assuage concerns about the risks of comatic lapse with a few inspirational Briticisms guaranteed to reassure an anxious public that the world has a bright future ahead of it - right around 100,000 lumens worth.
First, when you're married to the news, assume your spouse is probably takin' on a few fluff pieces on the side. Second, commitment is inescapable - even in the end times. And third, affordable cancer treatments are just a nuclear detonation away.
The movie begins in London where the nuclear summer's caused a Guinness drought of biblical proportion, and one of the last surviving newsmen (Pete) is havin' to dictate the results of the most recent dick-measuring competition between the U.S. and the Rooskies because the ink ribbon on his typewriter melted into a Rorschach test on his desk. He decides to start from the beginning for all the folks who've been too busy playin' darts and watchin' soccer at the pub the last three months to notice the world was endin', and basically, he recaps how the ravages of natural disasters and pestilence were becoming so bothersome that there were some among the writing staff seriously considering takin' a day off. On that particular day, Pete's boss was pretty far up his arse to get a story out about the solar flares causin' radio interference with the Old Standards radio network that were preventin' the Queen from gettin' down to the rebroadcast of Glenn Miller: Live from Carnegie Hall, only this cheeky bird workin' the switchboard (Jeannie) kept refusin' to transfer his call to the twat in charge of PR and so he hadda take a cab over to the Ministry of Truth and get slapped around in person until his pulse nearly reached normal sinus rhythm. Then Pete and his doughy mentor (Bill) head over to the pub to snipe at each other and risk deportation over public displays of emotion until a buncha Commie pinko longhairs and pro-fallout rapture fetishists start beatin' the tar out of each other at a political rally against the backdrop of a solar eclipse that shows up unannounced like your deadbeat, couch-surfin' cousin who needs to lay low for a few days after failin' to repay a loan to a guy named Enzio.
Turns out the eclipse was on the radar, just not for another ten days, but meanwhile the Earth's breakin' surface temperatures like a razor-burnt pubic mound every hour on the hour and gettin' everyone so worked up that they hafta go to the carnival 'cause it's the only place loud enough to block out the voices in their heads screamin' at 'em to buy gold. This's where Pete happens upon Jeannie layed out sunbathin' tryna develop super powers, 'cept while Pete's demonstratin' his speed dating technique someone opens the door to the editing room at the newspaper and accidentally floods London with cigar smoke - leavin' Jeannie no choice but to invite Pete up to her flat to make the sign of the hypoxic bog wobbler while Sussex gets its bollocks blown off by a Category 6 hurricane. The next day, Jeannie violates beaurocratic confidentiality and listens in on a conversation in which she learns that the coinciding atomic explosions've sent the Earth into full tilt boogie and that the black hole sun'll be comin' to wash away the rain in short order, only when she tells Pete he breaks his pinky promise and sells 'er out to get his name in the evening edition while she gets locked up by Big Brother's squealer peelers. Then the Cold Warriors agree to stop wavin' their post-apocalyptic peckers around but it's too late now 'cause mosta the planet's water's bein' reserved to put out the fires caused by chain-smoking doomsayers and hydrate the lawns of business tycoons until eventually the jails become so overpopulated that the authorities decide to let Jeannie go even though they're still mad at 'er.
Meanwhile, Pete's just come back from investigatin' rumors of communal showers and tryna locate the camp where Jean Shrimpton's gettin' her bi-weekly hosings, and he's about to type up his findings when an announcement comes over the radio sayin' that the world isn't just sufferin' from planetary scoliosis, but that it's also movin' closer to the sun and to expect the smell of pork to intensify. Fortunately, the scientific community has come up with a fix which seems to amount to blowin' up exponential amounts of nukes and and playin' atomic pong until they can get Earth's orbit stabilized, and this comes as such a relief that Jeannie decides to give Pete another chance given that the consequences of casual sex have reached an all-time low. In truth, I could run down the remainin' runtime without spoilin' the ending beins they decided to leave it open-ended for dramatic effect, but I think I'll just stop here at the moment where the flick wraps back around to where it started with our haggard, sweaty heroes awaitin' the results of the latest round of explosions. Normally I hate that kinda thing, but it sorta works here.
Alrighty, well, it probably goes without saying, but Cold War anxiety was a little more stressful in the days when Russia wasn't gettin' its hinder kicked by one of its former satellite nations. One thing you've gotta give the Brits though - in the early days of science fiction, nobody else could paint a picture of an utterly hopeless future and fill it with morose, amusing humor that treats the end of the world as little more than an irritating inconvenience. Unfortunately, if that isn't enough to sustain your interest, you're gonna have a rough time gettin' through this one due to the combined effects of its age, the talky nature of British cinema, and the documentary style that follows the deterioration of life on Earth in painstaking detail. That said, it does an excellent job of capturing humanity's collective denial about the grave situation in which it finds itself as it looks the other way and carries on normally; secure in its belief that humanity cannot possibly be extinguished.
Of course, the flick's bleak, inconclusive ending couldn't be allowed to play out the way it did in America, so we hadda monkey around with the last few frames to provide a more hopeful conclusion. Kinda ironic that the generation who now dedicates so much of its time to railing against modern sensibilities and championing the idea that we've become soft as a society is the same one that had to be protected from what wasn't even a downer ending, but merely an uncertain one. Fortunately, the Hays Code was on its way out at the time of the film's release, but I'd be curious to know if Janet Munro's so-called "nude scene" made it into the American release for its theatrical run in 1962. The Brits (at the time) were pretty sure that graphic violence would be the downfall of society, while over here, we knew (and still do) that the cause of our fall from grace would be the observance of the nekkid female form, so I'd imagine the scene where you get a look at half of one of Janet's hooters probably got excised when the film made it across the pond. Still, you do what you can, and although the result of its inclusion was an X rating in the UK - you've gotta give 'em credit for keepin' the pressure on the high sheriffs after Peeping Tom got everyone's panties in a twist two years prior.
In any event, let's zoom in for a closer examination and find out whether these guys managed to talk their way out of their decision to talk their way through the nuclear holocaust.
The plot, as mentioned, spends too much time telling and not enough time showing, but given the period in which it was filmed and the clear and present danger posed by nuclear weapons (if not their ability to alter the planet's orbit) it's a wonder that such a grave and serious flick was even able to secure financing in the UK. Val Guest, the director (and, out of necessity, producer) spent eight years trying to get it made, but nobody wanted anything to do with it given the ever-present threat of nuclear war and, likely, the memory of brutal bombing campaigns Britain endured during WWII. Consequently, by the time he finally got a green light the science fiction boom was essentially over.
Interestingly, the story of the planet going off-kilter and spiraling inexorably toward the sun was also one explored by Rod Serling in "The Midnight Sun" episode of The Twilight Zone, though we can be reasonably assured that neither production took inspiration from the other, as the Twilight Zone episode debuted exactly six days before The Day the Earth Caught Fire held its premiere in the UK. It's been said that "comparison is the thief of joy," but it's safe to say that if a person doesn't care for The Midnight Sun, The Day the Earth Caught Fire will prove unwatchable, as it endeavors to be an unapologetically detailed view of the dangers we face as humanity continues to harness greater and greater power, while the former is presented as a slick, stripped down version with an emphasis on entertainment value. Put another way, the movie truly does an excellent job of achieving its vision - what you have to ask yourself is, does that concept appeal?
The acting is solid, with witty zingers being hurled back and forth at the speed of light, as is customary for British films of the era. Kinda makes you wonder if these directors were aware of just how excruciatingly talky their movies were on some level and subconsciously worked to get everyone through their dialogue as quickly as possible; that, or I'm just some bumpkin whose circuitry is easily overloaded by too much sensory input over so short a time. Regardless, Leo McKern outclasses his peers as the impervious, cynical newspaperman with an outsized sense of duty and a complete lack of fucks, and it is he who shoulders the burden of keeping the audience tuned in with his bone dry delivery and amusing one-liners.
Peter Stenning also does a nice job as the semi-alcoholic journalist on the verge of chucking it all, though, unfortunately, is given his biggest opportunities to shine in sequences of little consequence - specifically, those involving his son from whom he has been separated following a divorce. Ironically, it is those scenes that, though very well acted, slow an already slow pace to a crawl, and which would probably have been better left on the cutting room floor. Janet Munro is also solid as the love interest who eventually earns the respect of Stenning after shutting him down time and again until he figures out that she ain't no holla-back girl. The only weak performance is that of Arthur Christiansen who plays the editor Jeff, and the reason becomes clear when you understand that Christiansen wasn't an actor, but the actual editor of Express Newspapers whose facility was doubling for the press center in the film. Don't know whose idea that was, but in a well-acted flick such as this, he sticks out like a sore thumb as awkward, uneven, and completely lacking in conviction.
Here's who matters and why (less Michael Caine, making an early appearance as a traffic cop): Janet Munro (The Crawling Eye), Leo McKern (Ladyhawke, The Omen I & II, Children of the Damned, X the Unknown), Edward Judd (First Men in the Moon, Island of Terror, Frankenstein 1984, The Vault of Horror, The Vengeance of She, Invasion 1966), Michael Goodliffe (Peeping Tom, To the Devil a Daughter, The Gorgon), Reginald Beckwith (Curse of the Demon), Renee Asherson (The Others, Theater of Blood, Rasputin: The Mad Monk), John Adams (Trog, The Plague of the Zombies, Voodoo Blood Death, Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, The Old Dark House 1963, The Curse of the Werewolf, Village of the Damned 1960, The Giant Behemoth, Quatermass 2), Jane Aird (Quatermass 1 & 2, X the Unknown), Avril Angers (Devils of Darkness), John Barron (Blood Suckers 1971), William Baskiville (Peeping Tom), Timothy Bateson (Hogfather, Labyrinth, The Hunchback of Notre Dame 1982, Torture Garden, The Evil of Frankenstein, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), Peter Blythe (Frankenstein Created Woman), Wallace Bosco (Repulsion, Village of the Damned 1960, The Giant Behemoth, Curse of the Demon), Jim Brady (Raw Meat, Doomwatch, I Monster, Dr. Jekyll & Sister Hyde, Revenge!, Taste the Blood of Dracula, Eye of the Devil, Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D., Island of Terror, The Reptile, Rasputin: The Mad Monk, The Plague of the Zombies, Blood Beast from Outer Space, Repulsion, Devils of Darkness, The Gorgon, The Evil fo Frankenstein, The Old Dark House 1963, The Day of the Triffids 1963, The Snake Woman, Gorgo, Circus of Horrors, Quatermass 2).
Plus: Robin Burns (Tales from the Crypt, Eye of the Devil, Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D., Island of Terror), Alf Casha (The Kiss of the Vampire), Norman Chappell (Queen Kong), Geoffrey Chater (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 1973, The Cosmic Monster), Richard Coleman (Naked Evil), Harold Coyne (Batman 1989, The Bride, Trog, The Oblong Box, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Theatre of Death, The Witches 1966), Maxwell Craig (Superman II & III, The Hunchback of Notre Dame 1982, Dragonslayer, The Shining 1980, The Chosen 1977, Nothing But the Night, Hands of the Ripper, Journey to the Far Side of the Sun, Daleks' Invasion Earth 2150 A.D., Rasputin: The Mad Monk, Repulsion, The Tomb of Ligeia, The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, The Day of the Triffids 1963), George Curtis (Witchcraft 1964, The Brain 1962, Village of the Damned 1960, Curse of the Demon), John Dearth (The Shadow of the Cat), Peter Evans (Dorian Gray, Beast of Morocco, The Gorgon, The Shadow of the Cat), Geoffrey Frederick (Lifeforce, Nothing But the Night), Pamela Green (Legend of the Werewolf, Peeping Tom), Verina Greenlaw (The Masque of the Red Death 1964, The Haunting 1963), Dave Griffiths (The Hunchback of Notre Dame 1982, An American Werewolf in London), Aidan Harrington (Morons from Outer Space, The Shining 1980, Superman 1978, A Clockwork Orange, In the Devil's Garden, Blood Beast from Outer Space, Village of the Damned 1960, The Giant Behemoth, Corridors of Blood), Robin Hawdon (Burke & Hare 1972, When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth), Gordon Humphries (The Vampire Lovers), Fred Johnson (Doctor Blood's Coffin, The Curse of Frankenstein, Scream of Fear, The City of the Dead, The Brides of Dracula, The Abominable Snowman, The Quatermass Xperiment).
As well as: Gerry Judge (Blood Beast from Outer Space, Devil Doll 1964, The Day of the Triffids 1963, Konga), Juba Kennerley (House of the Long Shadows, Dr. Jekyll Likes Them Hot, The Omen 1976, To the Devil a Daughter, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, The Horror of Frankenstein, Taste the Blood of Dracula, Dorian Gray, The Psychopath 1966, The Day of the Triffids 1963, The Hands of Orlac 1960), Dan Lester (They Came from Beyond Space, Curse of the Demon), Aileen Lewis (Britannia Hospital, The Wicker Man, The Shining, The Chosen 1977, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Frankenstein: The True Story, Burke & Hare 1972, Fright, Berserk, Fahrenheit 451, The Skull 1965, Repulsion, Devils of Darkness, Witchraft 1964, The Old Dark House 1963, An American Werewolf in London, The Hands of Orlac 1960, Horrors of the Black Museum), Leonard Llewellyn (Curse of the Demon), Reginald Marsh (Berserk, It Happened Here), Larry Martyn (The Omen III, These are the Damned), Jim McManus (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Legend of the Werewolf), Don McMurray (Night of the Big Heat), Carmel McSharry (The Witches 1966), Michael McStay (The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb), George Merritt (I Monster, The Hands of Orlac 1960, Horror of Dracula, Quatermass 2), Cecil Paul (Frankenstein Created Woman, The Witches 1966, The Skull 1965, The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, Gorgo, Quatermass 2), Lisa Peake (She 1968, Frank Phillips (The Quatermass Xperiment), Charles Price (When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, Island of Terror, The Giant Behemoth, The Quatermass Xperiment), John Rae (Fahrenheit 451, The Abominable Snowman, Quatermass 2).
Additionally: Billy Rayment (Children of the Damned, The Kiss of the Vampire, The Day of the Triffids 1963), Frank Sieman (It! 1967, Children of the Damned, The Curse of the Werewolf, The Mummy 1959, The Giant Behemoth, Corridors of Blood, Satellite in the Sky), Terence Soall (The Legend of Spider Forest, Theatre of Death), Guy Standeven (Batman 1989, Lifeforce, Morons from Outer Space, Brazil, Superman I & III, Return of the Jedi, Venom, The Omen I & III, The Shining 1980, The Quatermass Conclusion, Craze, Straight on Till Morning, A Clockwork Orange, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, No Blade of Grass, Island of Terror, The Giant Behemoth, The Quatermass Xperiment), Marianne Stone (Craze, The Vault of Horror, The Creepign Flesh, Tower of Evil, Blood Suckers 1971, In the Devil's Garden, Countess Dracula, Berserk, Eye of the Devil, Blood Beast from Outer Space, Devils of Darkness, The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, Witchcraft 1964, Paranoiac, Horrors of the Black Museum, Corridors of Blood, Quatermass I & II, Spaceways), John Tatham (The Abominable Dr. Phibes, Trog, Cry of the Banshee, Taste the Blood of Dracula, Dorian Gray, The Devil Rides Out, Repulsion, The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb, Devil Doll 1964, The Hands of Orlac 1960, The Revenge of Frankenstein), Austin Trevor (Konga, Horrors of the Black Museum), Edward Underdown (Beaste of Morocco, Dr. Terror's House of Horror), Joe Wadham (Scream and Scream Again, The Asphyx, In the Devil's Garden, The Day of the Triffids 1963, Konga, The Giant Behemoth), Terry Walsh (Jekyll and Hyde 1990, Superman II, Dracula 1979, An American Werewolf in London).
And the defectors: Janet Munro (Katie O'Gill in Darby O'Gill and the Little People, Roberta in The Swiss Family Robinson), Leo McKern (Horace Rumpole on Rumpole of the Bailey, Thomas Cromwell in A Man for All Seasons), Michael Goodliffe (Mr. Teavee in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory), John Barron (Justice Mitchenor on Crown Court, Herold De La Roux on Emergency-War 10), Peter Blythe (Samuel Ballard on Rumpole of the Bailey), Carmel McSharry (Beryl Humphries on Beryl's Lot),
The special effects have not aged well, but were, for their time, more than passable. The biggest trouble shots usually involve characters interacting against matte paintings, though the composite shot of the condensation rolling in over the Thames is choppy and a bit silly as well. Combine these with the occasional toy boat being tossed around by gale-force winds, an eclipse that doesn't cause the town to go dark during totality, and incongruent stock footage of natural disasters, and the result is a bit lackluster in the year 2025. Still, credit where it's due with regard to the stock footage - the crew made an effort to shoot new footage that would try to connect itself to the stock footage, and while it's a bizarre thing to watch, it does help smooth the transitions from jumpy, lower quality film that was never meant to appear cinematic in quality, to the film shot by an actual cinematographer.
On the other hand, the opening and closing sepia tone used for the wraparound does an excellent job of creating a dry, desolate landscape that properly conveys the extreme heat the planet is experiencing in a way that the black and white often doesn't, and the wind-swept riverbed where the Thames once flowed is a genuine high point because of it. Additionally, the hurricane-force winds that batter the city, destroy storefronts, and overturn vehicles are exceptional, and some of the matte paintings, when left to stand on their own against the backdrop of a deserted cityscape, are alright.
The shooting locations are exceptional, due in large part to the production securing the use of the Express Newspapers office on Fleet Street, the authenticity of which is both superb and essential due to the amount of time spent there. Had the chosen location been found lacking it could potentially have ruined the entire movie and its semi-documentary approach to armageddon, and it cannot be overstated how big a get it was for the production to gain entry to this facility. The extensive location shooting also does a nice job of grounding the flick for the British audience (and provides a little culture for North Americans whose architecture is, comparatively, dull) with its inclusion of the Chelsea Bridge, Palace Pier, Trafalgar Square, Whitehall, Parliament Square, Saint Paul's Cathedral, and the ill-fated Battersea Park funfair, which was forced to close eleven years later when a wooden rollercoaster derailed and killed five children. Other interiors include the pub across from the paper and Janet Munro's flat, and although they're perfectly adequate and cozy, it's the Express Newspapers building that makes the documentary feel work and creates the setting that grounds the film's extraordinary events in reality.
The soundtrack is perfect in that it hasn't got one. For a film putting forth the idea that nuclear weapons have, in all likelihood, destined humanity and the Earth to the dustbin of galactic history, a run-of-the-mill, boisterous brass/manic string composition of the era would wholly neuter the grim tone. Admittedly, it would be impractical to include a lot of music in a movie that spends the bulk of its time awash in newsroom banter anyway, but it does feature one notable sound section that plays during the opening scenes of desolation, and that piece is made up of nothing but a dry, swirling bit of wind that sweeps across the deserted London streets, and is flawless in its simplicity. I suppose it's not true to say that the flick hasn't got any music because it does feature Monty Norman's specially credited "Beatnik Music" for the scene near the climax where a group of teenagers commandeer a water truck and party like it's 1959, and for what it's worth, that raucous composition works well both in terms of disrupting the status quo - both in terms of the flick's subdued soundtrack, and the orderly conduct of the fictional society therein. In short - it's one of the best non-uses of music in memory.
Overall, The Day the Earth Caught Fire is a bit of a slog that doesn't pick up until the midway point; but with the exception of some poorly-aged special effects, its strong production values easily carry it to a passing score. Its cerebral nature renders it almost unwatchable to anyone under the age of 50, but it is a great example of pure science fiction that doesn't rely on monsters or alien invasions to generate its horror - even if simple-minded folks such as myself might prefer that they'd gone that route. A must-see for fans of British sci-fi, and a suitable insomnia cure for everyone else. Check it out if you own a fedora or a derby.
Rating: 67%