'The End We Start From' Deadens Its Own Effectiveness

It’s unclear whether The End We Start From’s choice not to change the bland, ephemeral title of Megan Hunter’s 2018 novel is bold or unwise. Going into the survival film, you have to process your expectations of the soft-focus, overly minimalistic student relationship drama such a title implies. As it turns out, The End We Start From is a soft-focus, minimalist relationship drama, just one made by fully grown adults. In theory, this could be a great example to see a mature, delicate emotional side to apocalyptic fiction, abstracting recognizable archetypes and dynamics to give the story a universal appeal. In actuality, it’s an exercise in softening a compelling tale to the point of ineffectiveness.

When disastrous flooding hits Great Britain, a small family – a recent mother (Jodie Comer), her partner “R” (Joel Fry), and their days-old baby – join the huge swathes of people dispelled from city life, only to find their relationships fracturing whenever they get close to a new form of security. The mother clings to her child after she’s separated from her neighborhood, her in-laws, and even her partner – they are not two distinct entities but a symbiotic whole seeking the protection of their own definition. It’s refreshing to see an infant in post-apocalyptic fiction where they aren’t treated as a constant, dangerous liability.

Based on a book written pre-pandemic, The End We Start From has a certain prescience – clearly, seeing normality be distressingly upended without explosions, flesh-eating mobs, or gas-guzzling motorcades has a 2023 appeal after a few years of anxiety-inducing health updates, watching people in other rooms uneasily listen to phone calls, and feeling at risk even when our loved ones are close to us.