“I have been both touched and depressed whenever I’ve watched the filming”

As a survivor who has witnessed the grim aftermath of nuclear war, I cannot help but feel a deep sense of despair and foreboding for the future. The horrors I have seen have left an indelible mark on my soul, and I fear that the world we live in today is but a prelude to the devastation that awaits us all.

Add Threads to your watchlist or Reweaving Threads, 40 Years On to your collection.

Regrettably, today is exceptionally bright at Curbar Edge in the Peak District national park, which isn’t ideal for filming ‘Threads’. A gloomy day with a dense layer of low cloud would have been more suitable. The camera team has added filters to diminish the harsh sunlight and scattered stage snow thinly over rocks and heather as props.

In a chilling first-hand account as a dedicated moviegoer, I’m witnessing the bleak, icy, post-Holocaust nightscape of PH1, the desolate Britain of the year following global catastrophe. The geopolitical landscape has crumbled, with Russia and the Western powers clashing over tensions in Iran, leading to a devastating war. Britain, once a beacon of hope, is now reeling from the detonation of 200 megatons of nuclear force – equivalent to 10,000 Hiroshima bombs. The remnants of two Soviet warheads have exploded in close proximity to Curbar and Finningley Airfield, with another detonating over Sheffield, leaving an indelible mark on this once bustling city.

Mick Jackson, the producer and director, asks for serious expressions instead of smiles from his group of volunteers and hired professionals as they happily gaze at the sun or admire the view of Chatsworth Park and the town of Eyam, which appears to be a “plague village.

Keep in mind that everyone here is survivors from the city of Sheffield, six weeks post-bombing. At this point, many are experiencing the highest levels of radiation sickness, and some may succumb to it or other hardships like cold, hunger, and exhaustion. This situation is reminiscent of Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow; you’re enduring freezing temperatures that will push some to collapse due to a mix of radiation sickness, hypothermia, starvation, and fatigue. I must warn you, it’s not a pleasant scenario. And, please, don’t forget to shiver as a natural response to the cold.

Earnestly, the refugees trudge ahead, shutting out the sun and the faint sound of weekend traffic, moving in their thrift-store shoes, threadbare coats, and heaviest blankets. They cling to their valuables in grocery bags or pull them along in homemade carts: a cherished can of processed peas, an extra pair of gloves, the remaining cigarettes. An unemployed toolmaker from Sheffield, who has never publicly feigned anything before, seemingly floats into a wet depression and “perishes.” A teenage girl collapses to her knees every few strides and then rises as if carrying an unwieldy burden. A teacher, burdened by a dying child on his back, gasps and labors to breathe.

Every countenance seems to express a sense of resignation, despair, apathy, or confusion. It’s eerie and somewhat disheartening to see how effortlessly these volunteers have embraced their duties. They require minimal training regarding the hardships of post-apocalyptic Britain.

According to Barry Hines, the author behind Threads, he was impressed by the dedication of the amateur actors. He says, “When we gathered volunteers for a meeting at Sheffield City Hall, we were prepared for a small turnout, but over 1,100 people attended. Their performances have been nothing short of remarkable. Watching them during filming has filled me with both admiration and sadness. I’ve felt a chill run down my spine and tears in my eyes.

People will not have seen a film which is as factual as this

Hines deliberately chose not to create a film that would evoke strong emotions, instead focusing on being impartial and factual. As he stated, “My aim was to be as unbiased and objective as possible.” He wanted this film to be as truthful as any movie could be. Many people have watched films like “The Day After” but were able to distance themselves because it depicted an American experience. In contrast, “The War Game” was well-received, however, it is now outdated.

Keeping abreast of the latest developments can prove challenging, as Hines found out when he had to frequently update his script due to new findings. On this particular day of filming at Curbar, a report has emerged from the World Health Organisation. This report, compiled by a team of experts that includes scientists from London, Boston, and Moscow, suggests that if a one-megaton bomb were to detonate over London, it would instantly claim 1.8 million lives. In the event of a full-scale conflict (estimated at around 10,000 megatons), “over half the world’s population, more than 2.2 billion people, would be immediate casualties.

Although a St John Ambulance Brigade volunteer on set suggested that he would play an essential medical role post-war, most specialists believe no health service worldwide could operate effectively. Meanwhile, within just a few days, another report arrived – this time from British farmers – depicting agriculture following the bombings: the land was left in ruins by tidal waves, grain stores were looted and depleted, while weeds and pests (surviving nature’s strongest) reclaimed the countryside.

Hines suggests that while there would indeed be survivors following a nuclear disaster, their lives would be drastically different and challenging. They might suffer from severe, untreated injuries, radiation sickness, and leukemia. Agriculture could resemble a mix of third-world conditions and medieval peasant farming. Bartering would become common, as would the need to relearn old manual skills due to the lack of standardizing influences like schools, newspapers, and television. Children might even develop their own language. The concept of loving parents may be difficult in such a harsh environment, as children would likely have to work and fend for themselves at an early age. The generation that follows ours, he implies, could grow up to be brutal, stunted both physically and emotionally.

As a movie enthusiast reminiscing about my past projects, I’d say: During the creation of my documentary, Q.E.D., I stumbled upon a wealth of scientific data that hadn’t seen the light of day. It wasn’t hidden away in secrecy, but rather buried deep within scholarly journals. Mostly, it revolved around the psychological effects of nuclear warfare. There was this overly positive assumption among European and American officials that after the initial phase, survivors would emerge from their shelters, brimming with determination akin to the Seven Dwarfs with picks on their shoulders, ready to start rebuilding Britain.

Despite vast financial aid from the Allies following the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, survivors did not experience any psychological healing. This gives us a glimpse into the potential mental anguish in a global nuclear conflict where no external help would be available. We should anticipate deep and enduring psychological trauma.

The generation that would follow nuclear war would be brutal, stunted both physically, emotionally… and mentally

Even those officials and top brass who are designated to govern Britain during the PH years from their regional bunkers may not maintain their psychological well-being, especially if they’ve been assigned to a shelter under a city hall with its single restroom on ground level. Both Jackson and Hines spent a week at the Home Office training center for “surviving officials” located in Easingwold, Yorkshire.

I had the privilege of attending one of their training sessions, as Barry Hines puts it,” I’d say. “They placed us in control rooms and allowed us to manage survivors’ situations. It was an eye-opening experience to witness such disarray. Initially, we found their methods overly optimistic, but isn’t that necessary? After all, they offered breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a clean shirt each day—not to mention a healthy dose of cheerful humor reminiscent of the First World War. One participant was a smoker, and his colleagues would tease him playfully: ‘Put it out, old chap. Smoking’s not good for you. You won’t last long.’

However, at Easingwold, Hines perceived a subdued unease among the participants; they were all aware that their activities were merely war simulations. Yet, in actual warfare, would they forsake their families to seek shelter in bunkers? Could their jovial banter endure the oppressive months of confinement? Would they be capable leaders? Some participants dismissed these concerns with a casual “It won’t happen,” while others adopted a more common stance: “I’d rather not think about it. Let me be drunk and directly under the first bomb.” However, as the course progressed, their perspectives shifted, and no one emerged from that week unaltered.

Moreover, neither the main cast nor the supporting actors were left unaffected by the filming process. They had arguably come as close as any British individuals to living through a Third World War. Their faces bore the hardened scars of simulated radiation burns, resembling the texture of congealed custard. Presently, they are shooting scenes a few miles east of Curbar Edge, at a farm aptly named Spitewinter. Its fields have recently been adorned with props to mimic the skeletal trees of a denuded forest. It’s now time for the initial, risky reaping in this PH2 scenario.

In simpler terms, the strongest and healthiest volunteers haul the bales, much like working horses, while those who are less strong or ill collect any remaining seeds. About a quarter of a mile off in the valley, the hunters are out with their dogs and distinctive clothing. One of the background actors quips, “It seems the aristocrats are still enjoying themselves after the tragedy,” referring to the event that occurred post-holocaust.

Far beyond the area labeled “Nuclear Free Sheffield,” as decreed by the city council, the slender, silent streak left by a jet from Finningley can be seen tracing the sky.

2024-09-18 15:06

Read More