The planet has finally conked out; it went not with a boom or a bang, but choking on a last gasp of polluted air. This frighteningly plausible end-of-the-world scenario is probably the most convincing detail in this solidly acted but underwhelming post-apocalyptic thriller. It’s set in 2039, six years after the conk-out; in Brooklyn, one family is miraculously still alive in a bunker built by scientist and survivalist Darius (Common). He spent years planning for the end of the world; everyone thought he was a crackpot, says his teenage daughter Zora (Quvenzhané Wallis). “Too bad he wasn’t.” Handily, her mum is gardener Maya (Jennifer Hudson). So the three of them – along with Darius’s dad – keep healthy on homegrown greens.
The bunker is a fortress and whenever they step outside (to tinker with the solar panels or browse the deserted local bookshop) it’s with an oxygen tank. The rest of the world – all wrecked buildings and crumbling landmarks – is treated to an aggressively apocalyptic sepia tint by cinematographer Felipe Vara de Rey Zora. The family hasn’t seen another soul in three years. And aside from a few mother-daughter tiffs, they appear to be living in near-harmony – after six years being cooped up together.
