Journal of Sustainability

by Mr. Critical, MrCritical@JournalofSustainability.com

Editors' note: We asked Mr. Critical if would write a review of the new Pixar film, "Wall-E" for this issue of J.o.S. He answered that although "Wall-E'" is unquestionably a masterpiece, that he would prefer to comment on another film, "On Top of the World." The fact that no one else has even heard of this film, much less seen it, did not deter him, or us, once we read his review.

Of all the subjects to meet Mr. Critical's gaze, cinema remains his favorite. In the brief history of film making there has already been so much magnificent work, and although so many glorious films have originated in Hollywood and Europe, Mr.C's favorite filmmaker is a little known director from northern New Mexico.

Working out of Espanola in the 1980's, with budgets in the mere tens of dollars, Fredrico Nicho created some of the most "moving" pictures ever made. The fact that his work is nearly unknown, and almost impossible to find, is of no consequence. In fact, Mr. Critical feels it would be impossible to discuss the matter of the future of life on earth without a consideration of Nicho's work.

Nicho's filmography rather strangely begins with one of his most ambitious work, the seven episode, "Chronicles of Ricky Retardo." [Actually four segments, to be viewed in the order, 1,2,3,4, and then, 3,2,1.] There is the amazing "Joy: She Came From Below," [which is possibly based on a lost early script, "Plethora and Paucity."] And his last known film in 1993, "Sissyboy." [Nicho simply disappeared sometime after this.] Our attention here will be focused on a mid-period work, "On Top Of The World."

To say that "On Top Of The World" is "low-budget" is an understatement. To refer to Nicho's extensive "sampling" or "recycling" is gracious. Most of the material in Nicho's films is essentially stolden. But what magnificent theft! Scraps of old movies and television, "sets" constructed from plastic science fiction toys, magazine clippings pushed into motion. The soundtrack music is "borrowed." Tewa stands in for an unknown language. The image quality is rough. Nicho claims to have shot most of the footage with a stolen security camera [ ! ] Nonetheless, every frame is gorgeous. [He also claims to have "hand colorized" his work with crayolas.]

"On Top Of The World," is set in an unspecified future. We know only this much: Earth has suffered enormous environmental devastation. Most of the planet is a poisonous radioactive desert, inhabited by small bands of "degenerate" humanoids. There are, however, a few survivors of the old "civilized" world. Floating on the fragmentary remains of the north polar ice cap sits a tiny community of the descendants of the world's elite. Enormous nuclear heat pumps maintain a Santa Barbara like climate, [and the ice cap below frozen solid.] This world is, of course, doomed. The machinery is aging. The gene pool is dangerously small. Everyone is incredibly bored.

But I'm jumping ahead. The story begins on an upbeat note: The announcement of the marriage of Muffy Gorbachev-Lodge to Mao Castro y Duvalier. It will be the party of the decade. They are rich and beautiful. [But then everyone here is.] Muffy and Mao are both a bit "eccentric." She works, and he knows how to have a good time, two things that most everyone else in this "final utopia" seem to have forgotten about. There can be such exquisite tedium in the day to day lives of the elite!

Muffy is employed at the Center for Genetic Salvation. Here, a small captive group of "lower world" humanoids are studied with the hope that these hideous creatures hold the answers to the genetic problems of the "upper world." Small glimpses of these creatures are enough for us to understand: The inhabitants of the lower world are not pretty, ["scaly" and "scabrous" come to mind.] But they have what it will take to survive.

Mao plays in a rock band, a rather good one in fact. And Mao loves Muffy. This love is not, however, destined to be fulfilled. The great machinery of the colony is about to fail. When the alarm sounds, almost everyone is paralyzed. Muffy, practical girl that she is, leaps into one of Centers mini-jets, points south and floors it. Mao, too far from the Center, grabs a tiny gyrocopter, in the desperate hope he'll get far enough before it all blows to smitherines.

They will never see each other again, but they are otherwise lucky. Her jet lands on the dry bed of what was once Lake Michigan as the sun sets. Kicking off her lovely heels, she takes off across the dunes. Hours later Mao just manages to land with a sputter on the shore of Hudson bay. The screen is black. The sound of the machinery is hideous. Then in silence, a devastating flash of white light, followed by the sound of nuclear detonation.

We are then again in a silent theater with a black screen. Eventually there is a bit of sound. and almost invisible, at first, on the screen, numbers. 2500, 3000, 3500---------------------- To some impossible date in the future. Finally, the numbers disappear, consumed by a gentle glow. A campfire? The flicker of a video screen? We can't tell. And by voices speaking a language we don't recognize. But we can easily recognize that these are the voices of an old man and a little child. We see their shadowy forms against the faint glow of what we now suspect is the sunrise.

By way of subtitles we learn the founding myth of a tribe. How for years the people wandered through the desert like animals. And then how the great sky mother Ma-Fe appeared and led the one tribe to The Center, where they met the other tribe of the great sky father Ma-O. And how with the marriage of the peoples of the two gods, that happiness returned to the earth. The two figures rise and go to join a gathering crowd.

In the growing light we see the beginnings of what looks something like a Taos eagle dance. Slowly building drums. The dancers' wings glisten as if they were silver. And then with the first direct ray of the sun we see the dancers' faces. The faces of the new people. Mutation beyond imagination. Another leap of evolution. The people of the new earth. Unbelievably beautiful, and unlike any humans we know.

In the final frames of the film, [no credits!] we see the dancers moving in wider and wider circles, and then [ ! ] we see them spread their wings and mount into the sky. And as their path of flight crosses the sun the screen goes white for the second time. The audience, slightly blinded, is left in a fully illumined space.

copyright Journal of Sustainability 2008 all rights reserved

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