The World, The Flesh, and The Devil
1959 film presents portrait of race relations in a pre civil-rights era

Here is a film that is of interest as much for its portrait of a time and place in American and world history as its merits as a film. Though its tale of deep racial divide doesn't resonate today as it might have in 1959, there is no doubt that we still have a long way to go. Still, I think it's heartening to think that most young people today might watch the scenes between Harry Belafonte and Inger Stevens and simply not understand what the issue is.

Playing like a big budget version of a Twilight Zone episode, this cold war morality tale deals with the aftermath of some kind of atomic war; the event isn't described, and the aftermath is not depicted with much reality: humans have disappeared, but where are the bodies? Suffice it to say that someone pushed the button, and the rest is allegory.

Harry Belafonte plays Ralph Burton, a mine engineer who is inspecting a tunnel when a rumble is heard, the tunnel shakes and a Ralph is trapped in a cave in. For several days he hears a rescue party trying to dig him out, when the digging suddenly stops, digging the rest of the way out himself, he finds that everyone is missing; the clues talk about atomic clouds and stuff, but it doesn't matter. The cities and towns he comes to are completely empty. Where are the dead people? Again, it doesn't matter.

Ralph makes his way to New York City, which is also devoid of people. The scenes of Manhattan completely silent and depopulated are impressively creepy. Finding no one in Manhattan, Ralph moves into a very nice apartment and prepares to make the best of it. A man of many talents, he soon gets some electricity running on his block and actually seems to be doing well, in spite of his loneliness.

One day, another human makes her presence known. She is Sarah Crandall, and she has been watching Ralph and his sometimes eccentric behavior, which made her unsure whether it would be safe to reveal herself.

Here, I realize that I've forgotten to mention the key element now in the film: Harry Belafonte, for those who don't know, is black (though very light-skinned) and Inger Stevens is white. It's important to remember this because at this point the film becomes all about the differences in their skin color. Ralph is friendly with Sarah, but there is always a chilly reserve he holds onto as well; I didn't understand it for a long time until Ralph points out the fact to Sarah. having maintained separate residences, Sarah suggests that it would be much more practical if she moved into his building. Ralph turns her down flat: "People will talk," he tells her.

On this point, Ralph is intractable; even with only two people apparently left in the world, in his mind the race issue is alive and well. It's an interesting switch that it is he who makes it an issue, possibly as a result of a lifetime of dealing with the effects of racism first hand, it is harder for him to let go of it. Sarah just thinks he's being ridiculous.

Ralph has set up a short-wave radio station, and gradually static-filled messages from pockets of survivors begins to trickle in. As with the race issue, the film examines large issues through reductionist techniques. If race distinctions are shown to be invalid when there is only one black man and one white woman, aren't they equally stupid on a larger level? The same with world communication; just a few months before, communications were so bad that it led to the destruction of billions of human lives; now, coming in over the short-wave radio, human voices — any voices — are precious and cause for celebration.

Then one day, a small boat chugs into the marina. Aboard is another white man, Benson Thacker (Mel Ferrer), looking very much like Humphrey Bogart in "The African Queen." Benson is nearly delirious and passes out. It is Ralph's worst fear realized and he instantly cedes any claims he might have on Sarah's affections. Nevertheless, Ralph and Sarah nurse Benson back to health, and the competition between the two men is on.

A couple of synopses I read have Benson as being a racist introduced into the mix, but there is no evidence of this in the film. Truth is, Benson simply can't believe that such a beautiful young woman has remained unclaimed under such circumstances. If Ralph doesn't want her, Benson is more than glad to press his case, and it has nothing to do with race.

At this point, the film has been written somewhat into a corner, and the film doesn't hold together well in its finale. Still, it remains an interesting film, and something of a novelty. By 1959 standards, it must have been seen as definitely pushing the edge of the envelope; nowadays, most people will find its central premise of impossible love between the races to be a quaint and curious museum piece.