The film tells about nine hopeless nuclear holocaust survivors. They are a group of people who continue their lives and try to make sure that they will die in their shelter or face unknown terror from the outside world. These people should wait for news from the government while they address hunger and radiation sickness at those moments.
This is the story, understand, of a group of people taking shelter in a basement following a nuclear holocaust. It's pretty clear right from the start that all or most of them will die. Good times.
Awash in exposition-heavy dialogue, punctuated by the occasional Wizard Of Oz reference, the film provides no meaningful background on its characters, and even less drama.
No one will be anointing "Aftermath" a feel-good triumph anytime soon, but there are flashes of unanticipated sensitivity and disquieting inspiration that cannot be denied.
Though they won't win any prizes for originality, writer Christian McDonald and director Peter Engert have fashioned a fairly involving, slow boil of a thriller that's as eerie as it is grim.
There's a compelling idea at work here, as well as an admirable willingness to explore the darkest reaches of that idea. Those things are, however, continually undone by a misguided script and weak direction.
There's very little that actually thrills in this well-constructed, if underwhelming film that works best as a how-to vid for nuclear war-minded DIYers.
Essentially, we're watching dead people refuse to lie down, yet the acting isn't terrible, and Scott Winig's photography is satisfyingly bleak and grimy.
Aftermath's strongest sequence is its opening, as the crisis unfolds and everybody speeds to shelter. The breakneck pace of this does a good job of building up adrenaline and crating a sense of high drama that lingers even when the story slows down.
The shocks, and the repressed wickedness, as in all well-done horror films, build slowly, then reach a crescendo that is hard to bear and harder to shake off.
