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.