America 2020

Whether the apocalypse will be brought on by contagious deadly disease, suddenly sentient computers, nuclear war, fascist one-world government, unrestrained genetic mutation, an invasion by aliens whose ship runs the Macintosh operating system, or one of dozens of other causes, cinema has a depiction of the aftermath as humanity struggles to rebuild and cast off whatever has beaten it so very far down. In "America 2020," the USDA's Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service (hereinafter APHIS to conform to the government's inevitable acronymization) would like to call our attention to another possible apocalypse whose post- period humanity could have to survive: the destruction of American livestock and crops by, as the unnamed protagonist memorably puts it, "some bug — a fly, I think."

Which bug was it that did us in? Well, let's not get bogged down in details. The protagonist certainly doesn't, as he navigates subterranean corridors with his young son on a perilous journey to acquire foodstuffs whose availability has been greatly reduced by the unnamed invasive species. Instead of the brightly lit, abundantly stocked supermarkets the protagonist remembers from his childhood, we see instead punks and ne'er-do-wells skulking in the shadows or lining up for the privilege of buying two oranges. A buff baker who's obviously just returned from another long night at the leather bar sells them a couple loaves and sneers menacingly at other passersby. In desperation, the protagonist even introduces his son to larceny, pocketing some smuggled potatoes and just narrowly escaping detection by a menacing cop. The struggle for nourishment dominates all these characters' lives, and the rewards of their struggle are meager indeed.

But wait: It was all only a dream! Whew! It turns out that APHIS is on the job right now protecting us from this outcome, as an explanatory section details to close the film: inspecting produce, ensuring that meat is free from disease, and checking every package it can find to ensure that no deadly insects or diseases enter this great nation. The message: Fund APHIS fully or "some bug" will enter the United States and reduce you all to this hardscrabble existence.

The problem here is that a truly riveting film about the post-apocalypse creates for us a convincing world, one familiar in the outlines even as it is changed to the core. "America 2020" does do well with its primary location in the basement of USDA's South Building, which is poorly lit, grimy, forbidding, and seemingly unnavigable. (It's hard to decide which is more dispiriting: the fact that the filmmakers thought the basement of the present-day South Building would be a good stand-in for a post-apocalyptic landscape, or the fact that it kind of is.) But details like the leather-bar baker, the UPC codes written in ballpoint pen on everyone's wrist, the aggressive grimace of the protagonist as he rides a cart going about three miles an hour, and the Tandy-style computer the protagonist uses to learn of new food shipments ring untrue, and thus disturb APHIS' aesthetic creation.

The filmmaking itself could stand some improvement as well; the clichés (like the slo-mo deceleration 'round a corner and the attempted button-pressing escape on an elevator) are executed with a total lack of brio, and the editors were content to allow shots to linger for whole seconds after whatever was supposed to be interesting in the shot has already happened. Too often when we the audience should be thinking about the harrowing existence of these anonymous future-dwellers, we are instead wondering why the camera is still focused on the corner the characters just turned, or why everyone looks perfectly well-fed even though there's supposed to be almost no food in the country.

Still, "America 2020" does have a point: APHIS should be funded as fully as possible. As a proud APHIS employee, the continued health and security of my bank account depend on it. Accordingly, I judge "America 2020" to be a terrific film, a film that should not have been passed over for an Oscar in whatever year it was made. And if there should be dissent in the ranks of my fellow critics as to this film's merit, may a plague of Mediterranean fruit flies (Ceratitis capitata) descend upon whatever fruit or vegetable you hold most dear. Oh, we'll eradicate 'em. But we'll let you sweat in the meantime.

SO WHERE CAN I SEE THIS ASTONISHING CINEMATIC MASTERWORK?

Try your local agricultural library. Or, even better, bring a six-pack to my apartment (essential equipment, I think, for appreciating masterworks like this) and we can watch what I think is a bootleg copy of it! I say "I think" because I haven't yet actually checked the tape , which one of my co-workers was kind enough to make for me. But if the tape doesn't have anything on it, we can always drink the six-pack and not care much either way.

Science Fiction Home

Movie Reviews Home

Spam-O-Matic Home