Post-Apocalypse Kibbles and Bits

"It's a really cool film-one of the first of its kind. George Miller has acknowledged it as his inspiration for Mad Max and it was adapted into comics by the guy who did Den for Heavy Metal!"

"No kidding?!"

"It's set in year 2024 after a major World War and everything's been completely ravaged."

"Love those kinds of stories. And--?"

"Nomadic hunter/gatherers roam the wastelands, searching for The Promised Land they call Over The Hill. And they've got these companions that they share a telepathic mindlink with--"

"Psychic powers! Cool!"

"--called "Rovers". Genetically engineered for warfare, originally. The Rovers search out supplies, women, and scan for Screamers, these glowing green mutants. The lead character, Vic, has these hilarious conversations with his Rover, "Blood", who's played by the same dog that was "Tiger" on The Brady Bunch-"

"Hold it. Dog? Blood's a dog?"

CUT TO: Uncomfortable room tone.

Chances are some of you have had a similar conversation. Suddenly, you find yourself ostracized for life. Demi, can I buy a Scarlet Letter?

Let's face it, Tapeheads. There are only two camps: those who "get it", and those who don't. There are the chosen few amongst us who actually tap into the demented mindset of the geniuses who gave us such films as Blue Velvet, Dawn Of The Dead, or Naked Lunch. Yet others can see only what they term "bad" dialogue, "bad" acting, and "bad" writing because the often difficult narratives don't reinforce valuable social lessons or indulge in the sorts of derivative cliches in which your typical TV s.f. revels. The "good guys" and "bad guys" don't play by the rules. The music doesn't "cue" them what to feel. Subversive, surrealist, sometimes maddeningly opaque and other times wildly theatrical, some films-like some people--are special because they refuse to "fit in".

1975's A Boy And His Dog defies categorization, much like the brilliant author who penned its source novella. The outspoken Harlan Ellison has resisted the label "science fiction writer" for his entire 900+ short story career ("Call me a 'science fiction' writer, and I'll come to your house and nail your pet's head to the table", he's warned), and yet his rare collections are stacked alongside Sliders novels in most bookstores. A Boy On His Dog is loaded with talks of future World Wars, battles with (unseen) radioactive beasties, and even homicidal robots, but this ain't one for the Warriors Of The Wasteland / Metalstorm: The Destruction Of Jared-Syn crowd.

After Vic (Don Johnson) and Blood stop to check out a movie at a desert camp, the Rover sniffs out a disguised Quilla June (Susanne Benton), who soon finds herself forced into being Vic's evening bed mate. The trio flee some scavengers and the dangerous mutant "Screamers", and Quilla June convinces Vic to join her in her subterranean home "Topeka". Quilla June's father and community leader Lou Craddock (Jason Robards) enlists Vic to impregnate all of the women in the village and offers the boy all of the perks of this bizarro Pleasantville meets Body Snatchers hamlet. But Vic finds out that his stint and life in new Topeka will be extremely brief if he doesn't escape to the surface, where he finds his canine companion on the brink of death. Luckily, Quilla June has tagged along, and will provide Blood a restorative service in more ways than one...

Long before the advent of the current "indie" boom, A Boy And His Dog was a true guerilla project for several Hollywood veterans who craved to do something different outside of "The System", and many of them performed double and triple duty. Director/co-writer LQ Jones had to that point been known as a stuntman and actor in countless Westerns and TV shows (and still appears to this day in such current fare as The Edge and Walker, Texas Ranger) and had directed only one previous film, The Devil's Bedroom. He also cameos here in the mock porn-flick A Fistful Of Rawhide. The late Alvy Moore, another 70's television staple, produced the film and appeared as Robard's accomplice "Dr. Moore". Tim McIntyre provided the cynical voice of Blood, and composed the film's breezy, acoustic score.

Ellison was apparently disgusted with the film for its final spoken line (a morbid pun not from his short story, but an audience crowd-pleaser nonetheless) and offered to re-loop the dialogue out of his own pocket. But the film impressed his peers enough for them to award it the 1976 Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation

I passed on Milo And Otis. I never cried when Old Yeller got shot. But I admit it, I found the relationship here between Vic and Blood to be completely real and touching. When Blood confesses pleadingly "I'm scared" before Vic leaves him to venture underground with Quilla June, my eyes flooded over like Big Bird's when Mr. Hooper died (well, maybe HIS didn't flood over...). And don't get me started when Vic emerges to the surface to find Blood battered and on the verge of death. As voiced by McIntyre, reading dialogue more or less verbatim from Ellison's prose, "Blood" ranks as one of the most believable and three-dimensional non-human characters ever to share billing in a film's title.

The production values were obviously limited, but the story's demands are such that one wonders what MORE could have been done with additional funds. A section of desert, some derelict buildings, and a deliberately artificial underground civilization are perfectly-realized backdrops to the quirky satire. It's easy to see where George Miller got his inspiration for the saga of Max Rockatansky.

A Boy And His Dog regularly shows up on most lists of the Top 10 Science Fiction Films Of All Time (or the like), and it certainly has its rightful place in my top 5 alongside another homemade marvel Dark Star. It's the kind of daring genre effort that disappeared only a few years later after the advent of Star Wars and the Star Trek revival. Just don't expect an appearance by Fred Williamson and you'll be entertained, and even moved.

- Maxx Renn