Unforgettables: Cinematic Milestones #35 – Night of the Comet (1984)

Forty years later, the end of the world remains as satirically prescient as ever. Bitchin’, isn’t it?

Back in 1984, I thought Night of the Comet was one of the greatest films I’d ever seen. My parents hated it. My best friend who went with us thought it was “too girly, but the cannibal mutants were cool.” But I loved it. Two teenage girls surviving the apocalypse by going to a mall and playing dress-up, arming themselves with semiautomatic weapons (“Daddy would have gotten us Uzis”) to defeat evil scientists and save the human race from extinction? It was perfect.

Over the last 40 years, I’ve repeatedly returned to writer-director Thom Eberhardt’s magnum opus. It’s a transformational fantasy I find easy to relate to. Not the apocalyptic aspects (although, based on the current political climate, it’s terrifying to say that that could quickly change), but more the core story of two sisters discovering who they are in an ever-shifting landscape that only allows them precious few moments of tranquility. Facing these obstacles together, their familial bonds grow stronger as they realize they’re far more powerful and capable of handling this messed-up situation than they could have dreamt was possible.

After a comet turns most of humanity into piles of dust, siblings Regina (Catherine Mary Stewart) and Samantha Belmont (Kelli Maroney) discover they may be the last two women on earth. They are soon joined by young truck driver Hector Gomez (Robert Beltran), and three of them start figuring out why they survived while everyone else tragically did not.

As outlandish as that scenario may be, overall, it’s a rather tried and true science fiction premise. Richard Matheson’s classic 1951 novel I Am Legend arguably covered this idea best, although it’s more of a viral pandemic thriller with vampire lore allusions than a tale of interstellar calamity. The book has been adapted multiple times for film and television, most notably with 1964’s The Last Man on Earth starring Vincent Price, 1971’s The Omega Man with Charlton Heston, and in 2007 under the book’s original title and with Will Smith as hero Robert Neville.

Eberhardt has playful fun with the concept yet also doesn’t steer clear of the darker repercussions that are integral to tales of humanity’s downfall. He throws in sly consumerist satire pointed directly at the Reagan era’s capitalistic and militaristic excesses, while adding subtle diversity to the surviving ensemble that allows them to construct their own “found family” free of racial, class, and economic dividing lines.

Admittedly, I did not notice a lot of those themes when I was wearing out multiple VHS copies during the 1980s. I was more concerned with Regina and Samantha: the way they talked, how they dressed, their one-liners, their makeup, the way their hair was always immaculate — even when they were running through an underground bunker with two children in tow, trying to escape zombified scientists who wanted to steal their blood. It was all terrific, and I wanted to be like both of them (not that I could tell anyone that).

I was particularly obsessed with Maroney during this period. While I loved Stewart in The Last Starfighter as much as anyone, it was her vivacious costar I was wholly drawn to. Between Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Chopping Mall, and this, Maroney played young, vivacious characters who seemingly always embodied the type of girl I wished I could be but sadly knew was likely impossible. Her characters were stronger, more resilient, and far more intelligent than they appeared on the surface. Yet they also never gave away an ounce of their femininity. They were girly girls who could proudly fend for themselves and even save the day, when the moment required them to do it. I thought that was unquestionably the greatest thing ever.

Night of the Comet is  a pure example of how time is the only true arbiter of artistic longevity. While some, like New York Times legend Vincent Canby, were open to what Eberhardt was doing (stating that it was a “good-natured, end-of-the-world B-movie” with a “sense of humor [that] augments rather than upstages the mechanics of the melodrama”), critics on the whole roundly dismissed the picture, many calling it out for its low-budget, independent origins, and minimalistic cinematic techniques.

But four decades later? Those items help make this weirdly acerbic gem an unforgettable cult classic. Eberhardt channels 1950s sci-fi auteurs like Jack Arnold (Creature from the Black Lagoon, The Incredible Shrinking Man), Gordon Douglas (Them!), Fred M. Wilcox (Forbidden Planet), and Kurt Neumann (The Fly) but with an assuredly ‘80s sense of humor and POV. He uses his tiny cast, which includes the likes of Mary Woronov and Geoffrey Lewis in scene-stealing supporting roles, with deft skill. Eberhardt also allows production designer John Muto (Home Alone) and cinematographer Arthur Albert (Happy Gilmore) the freedom to give the picture a sense of a massive scale and a weightiness that inventively conceals the production’s minuscule budget.

It is admittedly a little weird revisiting Night of the Comet now. The film is 40 years old, and while we’d expect some of the humor to be dated (although not as badly as one might think) and costume choices to look a little silly when subjected to modern sensibilities, what’s strange is feeling like we’re about to relive many of the political, social, and economic realities of the 1980s that Eberhardt was satirizing. Like so much great science fiction, there is an uncanny timelessness to this tale that is surprisingly informative and disturbingly sad. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

This doesn’t change my love for Night of the Comet one iota, however. As current as some aspects of the story may still be, it doesn’t minimize how much fun it is. Watching it remains a euphorically goofy joy. Heck, after recent events at the ballot box, the burden of civilization might be on us right now. For all this film’s Valley girl aesthetics, being reminded of what could happen if we don’t listen to science but do take one another for granted seems fairly essential. Bitchin’, isn’t it?

Now celebrating its 40th anniversary, Night of the Comet is available on DVD, Blu-ray, and 4K-Ultra HD, and can be purchased digitally on multiple platforms.