The Dread of Isolation

It's hard to express exactly what this thought is in my head. It's more like a feeling I get when watching certain movies, or reading certain books. I'm going to name a few works, and then try to explain:

The Dark Tower series
The Mist
The works of Cormac McCarthy (specifically No Country for Old Men and The Road)
The works of Samuel Beckett
The Phantasm series
Silent Hill

The biggest theme of the Dark Tower series, and this tends to permeate a lot of King's work, is that the "world has moved on." Like what few people are left behind are stuck in a kind of limbo. This is a different feeling than what is provoked by post-Apocalyptic works, such as The Road Warrior, when the world has been bruised and broken but people are still around bickering at one another.

In The Mist, it's not just that a hole has been ripped in the space/time continuum, it's like a chunk of the earth fell into another dimension. When the people in that supermarket gaze out into the mist, it feels like there's nothing gazing back.

Now I only saw the movie NCFOM, but I swear the cinematography made me feel like Josh Brolin was the last man on earth at times. I did read The Road, and the repetitiveness of the dialogue ("What would you do if I died?" "I would want to die myself." "Okay." "Okay.") as well as the emptiness of the landscape lent the whole thing an almost supernatural air.

If you've ever read Waiting for Godot, you know what I'm talking about. Vladimir and Estragon are stuck in this loop, like they're damned, and there's a building sense of tension and dread as the play progresses.

The same can be said of the Phantasm series. The first felt like, due to budgetary constraints, the story really only followed the leads and we saw little of the town itself. By the second one, however, it felt like Coscarelli was purposefully leaving out stock characters. Mike and Reggie leave a motel, gazing out onto the barren landscape as they hop in the car, no extras in the background. When the priest comes into the picture, he's alone and stays that way for the duration of his storyline. It's like the Tall Man has already been across the U.S. and no one noticed.

Finally, the Silent Hill series, games and movie, literally come right out and say the characters have gotten lost in another world. It's that hazy sense of being lost in a dream, that feeling you get when you're driving to work on a Sunday morning and the roads are EMPTY.

Does anyone understand what I'm trying to say? It's one thing when you're watching a slasher flick and you know if the characters could just get away from the island/summer camp/old house they would be fine. It's another when the writer/director makes you feel like there's no longer any world outside your immediate surrounding.

Thanks darkmites. Desolation is a good word for it. It's a feeling I get often when plays are adapted into movies and there is a minimal cast. For that reason slasher films often work like plays for me due to the limited space and archetypal characters. The Descent, also, with the limited cast and sets. I'm thinking 4th wall breaking here, with the stage itself being the entirety of the world.

I read that other thread, DARKMITE, and although it's interesting it's not where I'm coming from. I'm thinking more of an isolation of the mind or spirit, which is then reflected in the landscape the hero is transversing.

Iggy, I had never heard of A Boy and his Dog but reading about it, it sounds chilling and probably what I'm talking about. I'm also reminded of Bradbury's There Will Come Soft Rains.

Basically it's the feeling the main character has of being completely alone, which is then confirmed by the end of the story. I haven't seen Moon yet, but from what I've heard (unfortunately, I've been spoiled), I think that fits the criteria.

Should this have been in the Movie Miscellany? Maybe, but I'm focusing mostly on the dread part, which is decidedly horror.

The script when Arnold Schwarzennegger was supposed to be in the lead?

I think a big part of this feeling is being confronted by infinity. Or maybe it's the absolute proof a higher power that exists, but is indifferent to the plight of man.

In King's case, with his Dark Tower metaverse, within the context of his books he was completely unaware that his characters actually existed. When Roland finally meets King in Song of Susannah, he's pretty pissed at King's ignorance.

This has gotten me thinking about works in which characters get to meet their maker. I'm thinking Neo meeting the Architect, Truman speaking to Christof in The Truman Show, or even Animal Man meeting Grant Morrison. Or even Angel finding out Earth was Wolfram & Hart's HQ.

The idea of time & space being uncontrollable is daunting.

Thank you DARKMITE, you and I seemed to be tuned in here. The setting doesn't matter, although post-Apocalyptic landscapes do help. The problem with those, like the aforementioned Mad Max, is that people keep running into each other! The isolation that haunts me is from the first half of 28 Days Later, with the shots of empty highways and city streets, when the characters are not sure if the rest of the world has been overwhelmed.

What intrigues me is how when these characters are confronted by absolute unknown/infinity/the absence of God, they continue on out of habit or willpower. For another example, I quote Billy the Kid from Young Guns II:

'You remember the stories John use to tell us about the the three chinamen playing Fantan? This guy runs up to them and says, "Hey, the world's coming to an end!" and the first one says, "Well, I best go to the mission and pray," and the second one says, "Well, hell, I'm gonna go and buy me a case of Mezcal and six whores," and the third one says "Well, I'm gonna finish the game." I shall finish the game, Doc.'