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When a global outbreak turns most of humanity into undead, the last survivor must become a reluctant vampire hunter.
What is a cult classic movie? As the “cult” part hints, it’s a film that awakes profound devotion in a small but enthusiastic audience. There is a redemptive quality in this. It usually applies to disreputable products that go against the reigning concepts of quality and good taste. They might begin their lives as critical and economic failures. The mainstream hates them or, worse, ignores them. But we, who know better, love it. Maybe they are just too odd. They are more at ease at the Art House than at the Multiplex.
There is something slightly comedic in the opening of “Last Man on Earth,” as Vincent Price goes about his early routine in a dilapidated house. You can tell it was once a well-appointed home, and the man was an upscale citizen. The wood planks crossing the windows hint at menace that must be kept out of the premises. No explanation is given, but Price is the kind of actor that is compelling by the sheer power of his presence. The man makes coffee, and you must see how he goes about it. Once he opens the front door, we get more information: a huge garlic wreath and a mirror nailed to the entrance looking out tells you everything you need to know about the looming menace, except not really. This is not one of those old vampire movies, although it invokes some of their conventions.