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Dis­cov­er the post-apoc­a­lyp­tic night­mare of this land­mark social drama

09 Apr 2018

Words by Anton Bitel

A man in a traditional Middle Eastern headscarf, sitting on what appears to be a market stall, with other people in the background.
A man in a traditional Middle Eastern headscarf, sitting on what appears to be a market stall, with other people in the background.
Mick Jackson’s BBC tele­movie Threads imag­ines the dev­as­tat­ing fall­out of nuclear war.

Threads first aired on BBC2 on 23 Sep­tem­ber, 1984, and had much the same – albeit vic­ar­i­ous – impact of instant and last­ing trau­ma on its mil­lions of view­ers (6.9 mil­lion, to be pre­cise) as a mega­tonne bomb hit­ting a major city. Mick Jackson’s tele­movie opens as a sort of soap opera of ordi­nary Sheffield lives – with South York­shire cho­sen as the focus because of its nuclear-free pol­i­cy at the time under local Labour gov­er­nance – and then traces the ram­i­fy­ing, radi­al effects of a mas­sive nuclear strike against Eng­land (and the rest of the world) from the dev­as­tat­ing moment of the ini­tial blasts through 13 sub­se­quent years of degen­er­a­tion and despair.

Dur­ing the 1980s, even pre-apoc­a­lyp­tic Sheffield, with its indus­try rav­aged by Thatch­erism, already looked a lit­tle bit post-apoc­a­lyp­tic. The on-set fric­tion report­ed to have bro­ken out between mid­dle-class direc­tor Jack­son and his work­ing-class screen­writer Bar­ry Hines is reflect­ed in the vis­i­bly dif­fer­ent social back­grounds of young cou­ple Jim­my Kemp (Reece Dins­dale) and Ruth Beck­ett (Karen Meagher), sud­den­ly fac­ing mar­riage after Ruth acci­den­tal­ly falls pregnant.

Once the bombs have dropped, the class con­flict con­tin­ues. Ruth’s rel­a­tive­ly well-to-do par­ents have the advan­tage of an actu­al base­ment in their home into which they can retreat, and come off rather bet­ter than the Kemps (pre­cur­sors to the hope­less cou­ple from Jim­my T Murakami’s 1986 film When The Wind Blows) in the ini­tial blast – although post-nuclear death proves to have a fun­ny way of fail­ing to dis­crim­i­nate between the pro­le­tari­at and the bour­geoisie. There are also divi­sions drawn between civil­ians stripped of all civ­il struc­tures and the ever more author­i­tar­i­an author­i­ties, shoot­ing loot­ers only to req­ui­si­tion the spoils for themselves.

Riot police and protesters confronting each other on a snowy street, with protesters raising their arms in defiance.

Of course, the tropes of imag­ined atom­ic apoc­a­lypse have his­to­ry. The imme­di­ate antecedent for Threads was The Day After, which sim­i­lar­ly presents a bleak­ly real­ist drama­ti­sa­tion of the build-up to and fall­out from a widescale nuclear attack (on Amer­i­ca) from the ground up, and which had screened on the ABC tele­vi­sion net­work the year before. From this Threads bor­rows the idea of allow­ing the glob­al events lead­ing to the airstrikes to be medi­at­ed through tele­vi­sion and radio reports in the background.

It is even more indebt­ed to Peter Watkins’ The War Game, which was intend­ed to be screened on the BBC in 1965, but pulled from the sched­ule because of fears that it might pro­voke pan­ic or depres­sion on a nation­al scale – but still screened abroad, and won the Best Doc­u­men­tary Fea­ture Oscar in 1966 (The War Game had its first ever BBC screen­ing two decades lat­er in 1985, the day before a repeat screen­ing of Threads lead­ing up to the for­ti­eth anniver­sary of the Hiroshi­ma bombing).

Watkins’ para­dox­i­cal faux-doc­u­men­tary style is here appro­pri­at­ed, as events are punc­tu­at­ed not only by cold facts and sta­tis­tics pre­sent­ed in text form on screen, but also by a clipped voice of author­i­ty’, famil­iar from any num­ber of infor­ma­tion cam­paigns, offer­ing nar­ra­tive expo­si­tion as though the dis­as­ter unrav­el­ling on screen were a nature doc­u­men­tary or anthro­po­log­i­cal trans­mis­sion from the Open Uni­ver­si­ty. Threads pur­ports to be a doc­u­men­tary that can­not, giv­en the ces­sa­tion of all tele­vi­sion with the explo­sion of the bombs, exist – but its for­mat­ting as reportage anchors the film’s fic­tions to data drawn very much from the real world.

If The War Game end­ed, one year after the bombs fall, with a heav­i­ly iro­nised Christ­mas scene stripped of all hope, Threads includes a sim­i­lar NAtiv­i­ty tableau, but then marks its depar­ture from Watkins’ film by going on, over a decade into the future, as it fol­lows Ruth’s bare­ly artic­u­late young daugh­ter Jane (Vic­to­ria O’Keefe), now orphaned, on her own jour­ney into grim moth­er­hood of her own in an agrar­i­an semi-soci­ety of the shell-shocked, the thievish, the rape-hap­py and the can­cer­ous. Threads also dis­tin­guish­es itself from all its pre­de­ces­sors by being the first film to por­tray a nuclear winter.

Threads vivid­ly con­jures the very worst anx­i­eties of the Cold War – and that Cold War, viewed now when a still-nuclear Britain is once more engaged in esca­lat­ing tit-for-tat reprisals with an equal­ly still-nuclear Rus­sia, seems not entire­ly to have lost its cur­ren­cy. This, how­ev­er, is not the film’s only con­tem­po­rary res­o­nance. For it also paints its night­mar­ish pic­ture of a Britain woe­ful­ly unpre­pared for what is com­ing, and reduced, when it does come, to iso­la­tion, col­lapse and medieval regres­sion, with a failed health ser­vice, very lit­tle food being har­vest­ed, mass home­less­ness, and the pound and the pen­ny los­ing all value.

In oth­er words, seen through the prism of the present, it also plays out all the nation’s deep­est fears about the impend­ing Brex­it apoc­a­lypse. In this regard, note espe­cial­ly the scene in which a union leader call­ing for a nation­al strike is shown try­ing to get on side with the angry crowd at an iron­i­cal­ly bel­li­cose peace ral­ly by appeal­ing to his own nationalism.

Lis­ten, mate, there’s nobody more patri­ot­ic than I am,” he says, I’ve been try­ing to get us out of the com­mon mar­ket for bloody years.” This is just one thread’ of British – or, more specif­i­cal­ly, of Eng­lish – anti-Euro­pean iden­ti­ty that can be traced from the 70s to its explo­sion in our own times.

Threads is released by the BBC and Sim­ply Media on DVD in a 2K restora­tion on 9 April.

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