{"id":82414,"date":"2015-02-05T13:30:27","date_gmt":"2015-02-05T18:30:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=82414"},"modified":"2015-02-06T15:10:32","modified_gmt":"2015-02-06T20:10:32","slug":"the-way-the-world-ends","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/","title":{"rendered":"The Way the World Ends"},"content":{"rendered":"

Being the last man on Earth.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

From In the Mouth of Madness<\/i>, 1981.<\/p><\/div>\n

On a recent Sunday evening, trying to relax, I turned on the television and saw an ad for a new comedy series called The Last Man on Earth. <\/em>It wasn\u2019t clear how everyone else had died.<\/p>\n

I had learned what I needed to know, or had remembered it: television does not relax me. I turned the television off, took an Ativan, and listened to The Teddy Charles Tentet<\/em>, a terrific jazz record.<\/p>\n

\n

Phil Miller is the last man on earth\u2014which makes him the world\u2019s greatest handyman\u2014world\u2019s greatest athlete\u2014[etc<\/em>.]<\/p>\n

The last man on earth.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

But of course one is not<\/em> the Last Man on Earth. There are other people, equal claimants to the Earth. It can be vexing to share it with them. <\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

The Last Man on Earth<\/em>, 1964. Crumpled bodies, emptied streets. A sign reads: COMMUNITY CHURCH THE END HAS COME<\/small>; Vincent Price speaks: \u201cI own the world. An empty, dead, silent world.\u201d<\/p>\n

A plague has slain all of humanity\u2014all but Price, as Richard Morgan. The afflicted went blind before dying. The government insisted on burning the corpses to slow contagion. Morgan\u2019s daughter died, and her body was thrown into the pit at the edge of town and burned. When his wife died, he hid her body and buried it. That was how he learned the dead come back. It is a vampire plague, and each night after dark, Morgan\u2019s former friends and neighbors hammer at his windows: \u201cMorgan, come out. Come out.\u201d<\/p>\n

By day, Morgan methodically hunts for and slays sleeping vampires and drags as-yet unresurrected bodies into the pit to burn. By night, he listens to records and defends his home with garlic and mirrors: \u201cThey can\u2019t bear to see their image,\u201d he says in a voice-over. \u201cIt repels them. I need more mirrors. And this garlic\u2019s lost its pungency.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan falls asleep in the community church and must fight his way home after dark through crowds of incompetent vampires. Once inside, he reminisces about his wife by watching old film reels of good times they had. He laughs until he cries. We see the happy times, the birthday party and the children playing together, the worldwide spread of the disease, the blindness and surprisingly affecting deaths of Morgan\u2019s neighbors and his own daughter: \u201cMommy, where are you? Mommy, I can\u2019t see. Mommy \u2026 Mommy, help me. Mommy. Mommy, please help me \u2026 Mommy. Mommy. Mommy, where are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Why \u201csurprisingly affecting\u201d? Because this movie is shit. Which is not to claim that shit is not interesting. We eat, food nourishes our bodies, shit is a byproduct of that process that gives certain indications. Fecal occult blood tests are an important diagnostic tool. Let\u2019s get into the bullshit and see what the bull ate.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

From The Last Man on Earth<\/i>, 1964.<\/p><\/div>\n

Morgan finds dead vampires with strange stakes in their bodies, not manufactured by him. He decides other humans must exist. \u201cWhere did they come from? Where are they hiding? Why haven\u2019t I seen them?\u201d<\/p>\n

Burying a dog on the outskirts of town, he meets another human, Ruth Collins. She is infected, but she and her community have found a way to hold the illness at bay with a vaccine. So there are three kinds of last men on Earth: vampires who spread disease, half-vampires who manage their illness and slay evil vampires, and Richard Morgan, an uninfected singleton, who is surprised to discover that he has been killing them all indiscriminately.<\/p>\n

\n

You\u2019re a legend in the city, moving by day instead of night, leaving as evidence of your existence bloodless corpses. Many of the people you destroyed were still alive. Many of them were loved ones of the people in my group.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Collins, armed, has been sent to keep Morgan in place while her group attacks his house to kill him\u2014tonight. \u201cYou can\u2019t join us,\u201d she tells him. \u201cYou\u2019re a monster.\u201d Attempting to prove his worth, Morgan uses his immunity to create a new vaccine for the half-infected Collins. Now she can tolerate garlic and she can face herself in the mirror.<\/p>\n

\n

Look. Look! You see? It worked, Ruth. The antibodies in my blood worked. My blood has saved you, Ruth. Do you know what this means? You and I can save all the others.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

But it\u2019s too late to call off the scheduled attack. Morgan is pursued by his half-human assailants through the streets. \u201cThere he is\u2014in the church!\u201d Wounded, he rails at them: \u201cYou\u2019re freaks. All of you. All of you. Freaks, mutations. You\u2019re freaks. I\u2019m a man. The last man!\u201d<\/p>\n

He is killed on the altar of the community church. It is unclear whether his last words express puzzlement or pride: \u201cThey were afraid of me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"the-omega-man-photos-3\"<\/a>

From The Omega Man<\/i>, 1971.<\/p><\/div>\n

1971\u2019s The Omega Man <\/em>is, like The Last Man on Earth, <\/em>based on Richard Matheson\u2019s 1954 story \u201cI Am Legend,\u201d on which more shortly.<\/p>\n

Charlton Heston is Robert Neville. Again the lonely watching of the film of happiness and community: this time it\u2019s not home movies of children at a birthday party, but the Woodstock <\/em>documentary. Again the rush home, combat with the infected adversaries. Again the flashback that explains the plague. This time it\u2019s germ warfare: \u201cAbort firings. Interception will fragment bacilli-carrying missiles.\u201d<\/p>\n

Again the sounds of group laughter from outside, calling him to join, and again the refusal. \u201cNeville.\u201d \u201cShut up! Why the hell can\u2019t you leave me alone?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Omega Man<\/em> is more straightforward than The Last Man on Earth <\/em>about what membership in groups means, reminds us of, and feels like. This is a melodrama, with a hero and a villain\u2014Matthias, leader of the infected Family. \u201cThe Family is one \u2026 Neville will come down, down to the Family and to judgment,\u201d he says. \u201cOutside the Family, there is nothing at all.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Family captures Neville and puts him on trial. \u201cDoes he have a family? Is he of the sacred society? Then what is he?\u201d Neville is what the Family does not wish to know. \u201cYou are the angel of death, doctor, not us \u2026 and when you die, the last living reminder of hell will be gone.\u201d The Family assigns the role of \u201cknowledge-of-the-past\u201d\u00a0to Neville and seeks to destroy that knowledge, in a comically obvious way: they aim to immolate him on a pile of paintings and books.<\/p>\n

A band of half-infected survivors rescue Neville from being burnt alive by the Family, and he explains himself to them.<\/p>\n

\n

Neville:\u00a0I don\u2019t have it.<\/p>\n

Lisa:\u00a0Have what?<\/p>\n

Neville:\u00a0The plague. I\u2019m immune.<\/p>\n

Dutch:\u00a0Everybody has it!<\/p>\n

Neville:\u00a0Everybody but me. There was a vaccine \u2026 My blood might be a serum. The stage that boy\u2019s in, my antibodies could reverse the whole process, stop it.<\/p>\n

Dutch:\u00a0Christ, you could save the world.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

And, as if that weren\u2019t Christified enough:<\/p>\n

\n

Child:\u00a0They say the Family comes in the night when it\u2019s dark. They say they\u2019re going to come some night and take Ritchie\u2019s soul, and tie it all up in a bag, and give it to the Devil. Is that really true? Do you know if that\u2019s really true?<\/p>\n

Neville:\u00a0Oh, we wouldn\u2019t let that happen. Not a chance.<\/p>\n

Child:\u00a0Are you God?<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

And if that still<\/em> weren\u2019t enough, in the end Neville dies in a fountain of his own healing blood, pierced by a spear in his side and hanging from a sculpture, no old rugged cross having been available from the props department.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

These murders in churches, these fantasies of saving by the blood, are not accidental; they are intrinsic to the fantasy of The Last Man on Earth. They are the fantasy itself.<\/p>\n

\n

The alpha animal, who is subordinate to none, and the omega animal, who is dominant over none \u2026 The highest-ranking individual is the alpha animal; the lowest-ranking, the omega animal.
\u2014Klaus Immelmann and Colin Beer\u2019s Dictionary of Ethology<\/em>, 1992<\/p>\n

I am<\/em> the first, and I am the last; and beside me there is<\/em> no God.
\u2014Isaiah 44:6<\/p>\n

I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.
\u2014Revelation 22:13<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

A film called The Last Man on Earth<\/em> or The Omega Man<\/em> could only be an apocalypse scenario film. \u0391\u03a0\u039f\u039a\u0391\u039b\u03a5\u03a8\u0399\u03a3 is the original Greek for the book we call Revelation.<\/p>\n

Sometimes we ask, What would Jesus do? But we know the answer. He would be the alpha male and the omega man, both king and scapegoat. He would take on the sins of the world, then die, saving the world with his blood, and be resurrected in glory. But Jesus could do magic tricks because he was God in a beautiful story, and you aren\u2019t God and this is reality, so try to relax.<\/p>\n

\"Tq4kz\"<\/a>

From The Last Man on Earth<\/i>, 2015.<\/p><\/div>\n

\u201cIt has been a very fun show to shoot,\u201d said Will Forte, star of the new TV show The Last Man on Earth, <\/em>\u201cbecause I get to do a lot of wish fulfillment.\u201d But what are these wishes, and how have they been fulfilled?<\/p>\n

\n

The fantasy of complete destruction of the world does not include oneself \u2026 precisely because it is accomplished for the sole benefit of the self. The subject remains alone, united with the earth \u2026 The aim is to empty the mother\u2019s body in order to totally occupy it oneself, thus regaining one\u2019s place within \u2026 The contents of the body are so many obstacles to be swept away in order to reestablish the once perfect union with the mother. Because the contents of the mother\u2019s body represent reality,<\/em> this wish to rid her body of its contents is of a very crucial nature: destruction of these contents amounts to the destruction of reality <\/em>\u2026 a mysterious domain: the human wish to destroy reality and to be one with the Mother once more.
\u2014Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel, \u201cA Short Essay on the Apocalypse,\u201d 1988<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

*<\/p>\n

My favorite last-man-on-earth film is John Carpenter\u2019s In the Mouth of Madness<\/em>, from 1994: a horror movie about a man, John Trent, who goes mad and is locked in a padded cell when he realizes he\u2019s not in control of his life, but is really a character in an horror story written by Sutter Cane.<\/p>\n

Cane\u2019s supernatural fictions are, in turn, not written by him but by otherworldly creatures that control him: \u201cIt\u2019s funny, isn\u2019t it? For years, I thought I was making all this up. But they<\/em> were telling me what to write. Giving me the power to make it all real. And now it is. All those horrible, slimy things trying to get back in\u2014they\u2019re all true.\u201d His horror stories drive the people who read them insane, and his latest best seller, reaching his widest readership ever, will soon cause the apocalypse.<\/p>\n

Trent tells Cane\u2019s editor, Linda Styles, that he, like Cane, has contempt for humanity and doesn\u2019t mind if the earth is destroyed:<\/p>\n

\n

Trent:\u00a0Believe me, the sooner we\u2019re off the planet, the better.<\/p>\n

Styles:\u00a0Now you sound like Cane.<\/p>\n

Trent:\u00a0No, not me. You\u2019re the Cane lover.<\/p>\n

Styles:\u00a0I just like being scared. Cane\u2019s work scares me.<\/p>\n

Trent:\u00a0What\u2019s to be scared about? It\u2019s not like it\u2019s real, or anything.<\/p>\n

Styles:\u00a0It\u2019s not real from your point of view, and right now reality shares your point of view. But what scares me about Cane\u2019s work is what might happen if reality shared his point of view.<\/p>\n

Trent:\u00a0Whoa, whoa, whoa. We\u2019re not talking about reality here. We\u2019re talking about fiction. It\u2019s different.<\/p>\n

Styles:\u00a0Oh, reality is just what we tell each other it is. Sane and insane could easily switch places if the insane were to become the majority. You would find yourself locked in a padded cell, wondering what happened to the world.<\/p>\n

Trent:\u00a0No, that wouldn\u2019t happen to me.<\/p>\n

Styles:\u00a0It would if you realized everything you ever knew was gone. That\u2019d be pretty lonely\u2014being the last one left.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

John Trent transparently is<\/em> the horror-writer Sutter Cane: horrified by responsibility, by the realization that he is, in most cases, the author of his own life, Trent disowns his self-authorship and projects it into an author-adversary, Cane, who can be opposed, though never defeated. Trent is so horrified by his responsibility for his own life, and by the unending competition with his fellow human beings for control over our shared reality, that he uses Cane\u2019s creative powers to destroy the offending world\u2014by making it insane or unsanitary, by eating it all and reducing it to shit.<\/p>\n

The last scenes are in a deserted city, with no other group members. On this vacant and destroyed Mother Earth, all is undifferentiated unity with the dead mother (\u201call those horrible, slimy things trying to get back in\u201d) in a cruel fable of granted wishes.<\/p>\n

In the Mouth of Madness<\/em> ends with Trent watching the film adaptation made from the book of his life. \u201cI\u2019m God now,\u201d says Cane, \u201cyou understand?\u201d The Last Man on Earth stares at his own image, his own reflection, and laughs until he begins to sob.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

\"I_Am_Legend_1954.175441_large\"<\/a>

The first edition of I Am Legend<\/i>, 1954<\/p><\/div>\n

By now we know the basic scenes from Richard Matheson\u2019s story I Am Legend<\/em>.<\/p>\n

He sat in the living room, trying to read. He\u2019d made himself a whisky and soda at his small bar, and he held the cold glass as he read a physiology text. From the speaker over the hallway door, the music of Sch\u00f6nberg was playing.<\/p>\n

\n

Not loudly enough, though. He still heard them outside \u2026<\/p>\n

It was the women who made it so difficult, he thought, the women posing like lewd puppets in the night on the possibility that he\u2019d see them and decide to come out.<\/p>\n

He sat staring moodily at the bookcase, listening to Brahms\u2019 second piano concerto, a whisky sour in his right hand, a cigarette between his lips.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

Neville would rather stay at home with something in his mouth to suck on than go outside and play and fight on the social battleground. Oral cravings, oral violence\u2014mouths of madness:<\/p>\n

\n

I\u2019m an animal! he exulted. I\u2019m a dumb, stupid<\/em> animal and I\u2019m going to drink! \u2026<\/p>\n

He drank directly from the uptilted bottle, gulping furiously, hating himself, punishing himself with the whisky burning down his rapidly swallowing throat.<\/p>\n

I\u2019ll choke myself! he stormed. I\u2019ll strangle myself, I\u2019ll drown <\/em>myself in whisky!<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

When Neville is captured by the half-infected survivors, a woman takes pity on him and spares him public execution\u2014how else?\u2014by offering him, as Death-Mother, her poisoned breast.<\/p>\n

\n

She reached up quickly and unbuttoned her blouse. Reaching under her brassiere, she took out a tiny packet and pressed it into his right palm.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s all I can do, Robert,\u201d she whispered, \u201cto make it easier. I warned you, I told<\/em> you to go.\u201d Her voice broke a little. \u201cYou just can\u2019t fight so many, Robert.\u201d \u2026<\/p>\n

He thought, I\u2019m the abnormal one now. Normalcy was a majority concept, the standard of many and not the standard of just one man.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

*<\/p>\n

All of this raises certain questions about our leaping-off point, a new comedy series called The Last Man on Earth. <\/em>It is not obviously the stuff of comedy. Comedy celebrates love and friendship, joining a community and adding to it, eros, union, reproduction, social binding and incorporation. The Comedy of Errors<\/em>: \u201cWe came into the world like brother and brother; And now let\u2019s go hand in hand, not one before another.\u201d Measure for Measure<\/em>: \u201cWhat\u2019s mine is yours, and what is yours is mine.\u201d The Two Gentlemen of Verona<\/em>: \u201cOur day of marriage shall be yours, One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tragedy is about the breaking of those bonds, about decay, dissolution, isolation, and death\u2014the death that comes too late. Tragedy is about being the The Last Man on Earth.<\/p>\n

The Last Man on Earth can only be a \u201ccomedy\u201d of union, of reunion, with the mother\u2019s dead body. Mother Earth is destroyed, rival siblings are destroyed, the obstruction of the father is destroyed\u2014all the obstacles of reality are destroyed, and the ancient wish is fulfilled: The Last Man on Earth has his mother to himself.<\/p>\n

But the destruction of reality is psychosis, plain and simple\u2014just as Norman Bates in Psycho<\/em> destroys all other people he encounters, in order to have, and to be, his own dead mother.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Being The Last Man on Earth is a suicide mission. It is only attractive to the sick soul who, failed by his father, has had to destroy himself in an attempt to become a super-father, to be the first<\/em> man\u2014the poor soul who thinks that he is God the Father and the Son of God, and that his blood can save us.<\/p>\n

It won\u2019t. He can\u2019t. He is sick. We are not sick. And even if we are sick, we don\u2019t want to save or to be saved. We want to kill.<\/p>\n

These are the facts of the case, and they are undisputed.<\/p>\n

J.\u2009D. Daniels is the 2013 recipient of <\/em>The Paris Review\u2019s Terry Southern Prize. He will contribute an essay on group dynamics to the Spring 2015 issue of <\/em>The Paris Review.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Being the last man on Earth. On a recent Sunday evening, trying to relax, I turned on the television and saw an ad for a new comedy series called The Last Man on Earth. It wasn\u2019t clear how everyone else had died. I had learned what I needed to know, or had remembered it: television […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1186],"tags":[16920,9517,16915,16917,79,207,16919,16918,16921,16399,7481,81,16916,8656,16913,7592,997,16914],"class_list":["post-82414","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-on-film","tag-alpha-male","tag-apocalypse","tag-charlton-heston","tag-fantasies","tag-film","tag-freud","tag-i-am-legend","tag-in-the-mouth-of-madness","tag-janine-chasseguet-smirgel","tag-john-carpenter","tag-mothers","tag-movies","tag-omega-man","tag-richard-matheson","tag-the-last-man-on-earth","tag-tv","tag-vampires","tag-will-forte"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nBeing the Last Man on Earth<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Why do we want to be the last one alive? J. D. Daniels looks at three films about being the last man on earth, and the strange fantasy undergirding the concept.\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Way the World Ends by J. D. Daniels\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"February 5, 2015 \u2013 Being the last man on Earth. On a recent Sunday evening, trying to relax, I turned on the television and saw an ad for a new comedy series called The Last\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Paris Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"960\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"467\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"J. D. Daniels\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"J. D. Daniels\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"15 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"J. D. Daniels\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/8825d50c46e2ba4076fa272023a720d0\"},\"headline\":\"The Way the World Ends\",\"datePublished\":\"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\"},\"wordCount\":2961,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"alpha male\",\"apocalypse\",\"Charlton Heston\",\"fantasies\",\"film\",\"Freud\",\"I Am Legend\",\"In the Mouth of Madness\",\"Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel\",\"John Carpenter\",\"Mothers\",\"movies\",\"Omega Man\",\"Richard Matheson\",\"The Last Man on Earth\",\"TV\",\"vampires\",\"Will Forte\"],\"articleSection\":[\"On Film\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\",\"name\":\"Being the Last Man on Earth\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00\",\"description\":\"Why do we want to be the last one alive? J. D. Daniels looks at three films about being the last man on earth, and the strange fantasy undergirding the concept.\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"The Way the World Ends\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"description\":\"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"width\":696,\"height\":696,\"caption\":\"The Paris Review\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\",\"https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview\",\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview\"]},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/8825d50c46e2ba4076fa272023a720d0\",\"name\":\"J. D. Daniels\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/0966c84a74b6949faf0c7b4c5c9b25358a6c056a800acaa433910d75bedb6d5d?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/0966c84a74b6949faf0c7b4c5c9b25358a6c056a800acaa433910d75bedb6d5d?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"J. D. Daniels\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/jdaniels\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO Premium plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Being the Last Man on Earth","description":"Why do we want to be the last one alive? J. D. Daniels looks at three films about being the last man on earth, and the strange fantasy undergirding the concept.","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"The Way the World Ends by J. D. Daniels","og_description":"February 5, 2015 \u2013 Being the last man on Earth. On a recent Sunday evening, trying to relax, I turned on the television and saw an ad for a new comedy series called The Last","og_url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/","og_site_name":"The Paris Review","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","article_published_time":"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00","article_modified_time":"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00","og_image":[{"width":960,"height":467,"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"J. D. Daniels","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@parisreview","twitter_site":"@parisreview","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"J. D. Daniels","Est. reading time":"15 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/"},"author":{"name":"J. D. Daniels","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/8825d50c46e2ba4076fa272023a720d0"},"headline":"The Way the World Ends","datePublished":"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00","dateModified":"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/"},"wordCount":2961,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg","keywords":["alpha male","apocalypse","Charlton Heston","fantasies","film","Freud","I Am Legend","In the Mouth of Madness","Janine Chasseguet-Smirgel","John Carpenter","Mothers","movies","Omega Man","Richard Matheson","The Last Man on Earth","TV","vampires","Will Forte"],"articleSection":["On Film"],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/","name":"Being the Last Man on Earth","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg","datePublished":"2015-02-05T18:30:27+00:00","dateModified":"2015-02-06T20:10:32+00:00","description":"Why do we want to be the last one alive? J. D. Daniels looks at three films about being the last man on earth, and the strange fantasy undergirding the concept.","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/in-the-mouth-of-madness.jpg"},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2015\/02\/05\/the-way-the-world-ends\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"The Way the World Ends"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","name":"The Paris Review","description":"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization","name":"The Paris Review","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","width":696,"height":696,"caption":"The Paris Review"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview","https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview"]},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/8825d50c46e2ba4076fa272023a720d0","name":"J. D. Daniels","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/0966c84a74b6949faf0c7b4c5c9b25358a6c056a800acaa433910d75bedb6d5d?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/0966c84a74b6949faf0c7b4c5c9b25358a6c056a800acaa433910d75bedb6d5d?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"J. D. Daniels"},"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/jdaniels\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82414","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=82414"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82414\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":82440,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/82414\/revisions\/82440"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=82414"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=82414"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=82414"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}