No Blade of Grass

Directed by Cornel Wilde, No Blade of Grass follows several characters as they attempt to make their way towards sanctuary after London is ravaged by a plague. It’s compelling subject matter that’s employed to promising yet increasingly tiresome effect by Wilde, which is a shame, ultimately, given that the filmmaker, working from Sean Forestal and Jefferson Pascal’s screenplay, does a relatively effective job of initially drawing the viewer into the proceedings – with the decidedly bold opening stretch going a long way towards initially capturing the viewer’s interest. (Wilde’s penchant for juxtaposing images of starving babies with piles of food is less-than-subtle, to say the least, but effective.) It’s clear, then, that No Blade of Grass‘ impact takes a serious nosedive once it progresses into a repetitive and mostly uninvolving midsection, as the emphasis on said characters’ hopelessly dull travels through the English countryside slowly-but-surely transforms the picture into a tedious, interminable endeavor – with the dimly-lit and frustratingly underwhelming climax doing little to alleviate the now-crushingly uninvolving atmosphere. By the time the silly, freeze-frame final shot rolls around, No Blade of Grass, anchored by a series of forgettable, bland performances, has confirmed its place as a woefully inept piece of work that squanders an admittedly compelling setup.

* out of ****