| Atomic War Bride Directed by Veljko Bulajic ( Yugoslavia –1960) Throughout the nineteen fifties, an entire generation of baby boomers were fed a steady diet of cold war paranoia in the form of educational films based around nuclear Armageddon. Given the scaremongering nature of many of these films, it’s a wonder that school children were brave enough to come out from beneath their desks after those infamous ‘duck and cover’ drills that were seen as a sure fire way to survive the A-bomb. This film is a Yugoslavian look at cold war paranoia. John Johnson is a happy go lucky guy with all the intellect of half a bucket of cold dog vomit. In fact, he’s one of the most intellectually challenged leading men in celluloid history. Our hero doesn’t have a pessimistic bone in his body. As Atomic War Bride begins, he’s even happier than usual. Today is the day that John marries his childhood sweetheart Maria. As he tries to hail a cab outside his apartment block, a paperboy approaches announcing to all and sundry that war has been declared. “War declared!... Don’t you care mister?” the hawker asks John. It isn’t that he doesn’t care, it’s just that the concept is going to take a while to sink through his industrial thickness skull. There aren’t any cabs in sight, so he begins the long walk to Maria’s place. As he crosses a square, a convoy of military trucks round the corner, and stop in front of a gathered crowd. A military spokesman barks instructions through a bullhorn. “Everyone here will be issued a covering to guard against radiation” he tells the throng of panicked citizens. The troops begin handing out the crude poncho-like coverings to the crowd. They’ll offer about as much protection as an umbrella in the event of atomic warfare, but nevertheless the confused citizens fight over the suits. The military spokesman advises them on how to don the coverings, and how to pull down the protective hood. He even drills them on it as the eager crowd practice dragging their hoods over their faces. “Down again!, up again!, down again!, up again!, down again!, up again!. Good. Be sure to store it in a dry place; it cannot stand humidity” their instructor explains via his crackly bullhorn. John misses out on a suit, and tries to crawl under another man’s poncho. “Let me in; I haven’t got one” he begs. The other man pushes him away, and as the planes roar overhead, John seeks refuge behind some bins. He looks like a Yugoslav Oscar the Grouch. The rest of the crowd simply squat on the ground in their protective suits. “It’s o.k., they’re ours!” shouts one relieved citizen. John finally manages to hail a cab, and after getting caught up in a military convoy, he proceeds on foot after the driver is arrested for being a peacenik. The groom to be finally makes it to the home of Maria’s parents. Unlike John, his soon to be in-laws are petrified at the prospect of being microwaved like frozen burrito’s. Maria’s cousin Jack has a nervous disorder, and a bad heart. John assures him that the other side won’t use nuclear weapons, but adds that if they do, then everyone will be “ground to powder as if they’d gone through a coffee grinder”. Naturally, Jack faints. But this family isn’t going to stop a little thing like an anxiety attack or the end of the world ruin the wedding of the year. It’s off to the local chapel for some pre-nuclear war nuptials. In times of crisis, priests are usually a source of hope and inspiration for the religiously inclined. But John and Maria’s celebrant isn’t exactly up to the task. “My children” he nervously begins from behind the pulpit as jets scream overhead. “All of this was important yesterday, but not today. So I believe we should get this over with as soon as possible”. He does have a point. As the world’s most mercifully short wedding ceremony is concluded, the church begins to crumble after a direct hit from a conventional bomb. Then we’re treated to one of the most realistic air attacks ever committed to celluloid. As the parishioners flee their smoking place of worship, enemy jets strafe and bomb the surrounding area. It appears as though the Yugoslav airforce collaborated with the filmmakers to combine a military exercise with the filmmaking process. A live cow is even strafed to death in what appears to be a live fire exercise. This scene makes Apocalypse Now’s sacrificial cow seem rather tame by comparison. If it is an example of cinematic trickery, it’s a flawlessly executed (pardon the pun) example by director Veljko Bulajic. John and a nervous Jack are conscripted by the army soon after the attack, despite Jack’s protests about his weak heart. At boot camp, the pair are trained to disguise themselves as shrubbery, trees, and even sheep to evade enemy detection. Sounds like a drill straight out of the pages of the New Zealand armed forces training manual. John meets a previously unemployed friend who’s delighted with the impending apocalypse because he now has a job. Jack doesn’t get a chance to fire a shot in anger; he dies of a heart attack on the parade ground. Later, John is re-united with Maria in an air raid shelter in the city. The president appears on a large screen inside the enormous facility. He looks a lot like Jacques Chirac, which is rather ironic considering France’s love for nuclear testing. He announces that he’s ordered an all-out nuclear strike against the enemy, and the missiles are flying. “My friends, I’m sure you would have done as I did if it were your responsibility” he tells his constituents in a colossal example of guilt projection. And realising how much the public loves a good televised war, the kind hearted politician has screwed cameras onto the tips of all the warheads to give the voters a birds eye view of the carnage. We see a missile P.O.V. shot as it hurtles over a city, and into a terrified crowd. After seeing the rocket-cam footage, John becomes a peacenik. He deserts the army, leads a peace march, and is arrested for treason. Then he assumes that the government won’t shoot him, because he’s going to explain to them how wrong the war is. They’re nice reasonable people. Surely they’ll understand. Did I say that this soldier turned peacenik was as intelligent as half a bucket of cold dog vomit? I think I gave him to much credit. The firing squad are eager to shoot him, but are confounded by the fact that there aren’t any walls left in the city. The fact that one of the enemy’s thermonuclear missiles is headed straight for them also ruins their day. The race is on to see whether the firing squad will take him out first, or whether the splitting atom will end the honeymoon of John Johnson and his Atomic War Bride. This satirical look at World War 3 beat the more widely known Dr. Strangelove to the punch by four years, and is a far more satisfying nuclear spoof. The humour is rather subtle compared to Kubrik’s heavy handed comedic style. In fact, I suspect that the original Yugoslavian version had a more serious tone before being re-dubbed for U.S. release. Atomic War Bride has the same comedic style as an early Roadshow movie, but unlike the sex-hygene and drug warning films of the thirties and forties, the humour here is intentional. On the other hand, the actual war scenes in this film are all quite powerful, making it one of the more noteworthy cold war films of the sixties. ENTERTAINMENT : 3 out of 4 WATCHABILITY : 2 out of 4 OVERALL : 2.5 out of 4 Reviewed by Blake |