Mick Jackson's Threads

After a recent Wikipedia tangent on the Manhattan Project led me to the disappointing Fat Man & Little Boy, I found myself on the hunt for something better able to quench my thirst for all things thermonuclear.

My next target was the Academy Award nominated Radio Bikini, a documentary that by today's standards is a dated and unimaginative newsreel retelling of the test detonation of two nukes on Bikini Island. Much of the acclaim RB has garnered can be attributed to one shot, a slow zoom out with a surprising and horrific reveal. Despite being a letdown, RB manages to subtly condemn the US Government's arrogance and cavalier disregard for the life shattering actions they justify in the name of the country's best interests.

Unsatisfied, I moved on to another Oscar nominee, 1980's The Day After Trinity. DAT managed to answer a number of questions I had about the man behind the bomb, most notably how one goes on living with the blood on hundreds of thousands of civilians on his hands. Robert Oppenheimer was blindly driven by an ego matched only by his intellect, successfully orchestrating the largest publicly funded, government projects in the history of the USA. Oppy paid the price, living the remainder of his life with the guilt and regret over his creation. "I have become death" was his famous quote after witnessing the first explosion and, knowing the evil he had unleashed, he devoted his post-bomb career to making sure his prophecy would never again be played out on a grand scale. All one has to do to appreciate Oppy's sobering pain is to look at the haunting images of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Three films deep and 'something' continued to elude me. Up until this point, nothing I had watched had illustrated the magnitude the destructive power a nuclear blast possessed. I wanted to wrap my head around what life would be like if the bombs ever did fall and thanks to Dean Treadway over at Filmicability and his ongoing series of Master Lists, the BBC made-for-TV docu-drama Threads was brought to my attention.

Threads opens in a pseudo-documentary style, but quickly transitions into a kitchen sink drama involving the lives of a number of working class Sheffielders. This "Coronation Street" melodrama challenged my interest for nearly fifty minutes, but I hung in knowing the impending doom was imminent thanks to escalating reports of a stand-off between the US and Russia. As each person's personal drama becomes less and less relevant, the news of the world builds to a frightening crescendo where every character is ultimately paralyzed by their fear of war. And then...all hell breaks loose.

Once the bombs drop, Threads' relentless assault on the few surviving character's lives is unleashed. Director Mick Jackson uses the nuclear aftermath to fragment his narrative into a series of escalating and horrific vignettes, all depicting graphic details of the widespread destruction and the depths humanity will be lowered to. Scavenging, looting, eating contaminated dead animals, fighting over rats, the survivors are de-humanized to such an extent they are reduced to a savage, feral existence.

Working within the constraints of a limited budget, Jackson makes ingenious use of archival footage and still photos, redefining their context to match that of his movie. In addition, Jackson ramps up the realism with the inclusion of real-world estimates posing as matter-of-fact data displayed on recurring title cards throughout the film. When Threads comes to an abrupt end fifteen years after the first blast, the closing credits reveal a list of Phd's used as consultants and advisors, legitimizing this harrowing depiction of a nuclear holocaust as nothing less than hell on earth.

As impressive as the American TV movie The Day After was, Threads -made a few years later- unquestionably ups the ante and conclusively hammers home how important it is we NEVER resort to thermonuclear war as an option. In the unlikely event we're ever on the brink of an all out nuclear war, throw all the world leaders in a room and slap in a DVD of Threads. Two hours later I'm quite confident they'll be able to work their shit out.

On a surreal note, there's one very brief shot of a figure burning in the fire that I could swear was E.T. (yes, that E.T.). You be the judge (click images for a closer look):