Filmpocalypse #7: GAS-S-S-S!

It's weird to describe something as Sub-Corman, but this is it...

I don't do well with empathy.

I found Punishment Park an upsetting viewing experience for many reasons, not the least of which being its ability to force an emotional connection between myself and hippie culture. For a man with Cartmanian opinions on the movement, this was nothing short of a triumph in filmmaking. Longhairs and Commies, spouting free-love rhetoric and getting bashed over the head with nightsticks? "Comedy gold!" thought I. Two hours of man-weeping later, I feared Brock Wilbur might be broken.

Today is about correcting this discomfort, by diving into a film which celebrates my nightmare scenario: yippe take-over. Apocalyptic stakes indeed. Let's set the world right.

Gas! or Gas-s-s-s! or It Became Necessary to Destroy the World in Order to Save It was a 1971 film, and schlock-master Roger Corman's last directing credit for eighteen years. My love of Corman knows no bounds, so I revel in this excuse to watch him rip off Wild in the Streets, which was produced two years earlier by the same film studio, AIP. While that film shares a concept, and could easily have been a double-feature for this entry, Gas-s-s-s! projects a more post-apocalyptic vibe.

And... huh.

Change of plans, guys. I'm ten minutes in and I have little to no understanding of what's occurring. This is... just a disaster. Uh. Okay. Let's... I don't know. I'll just describe what I'm seeing and we'll put it together later? Continue reading...

Author: Brock Wilbur