There are bound to be a host of cinematic explorations of our Covid year (hey, “Our Covid Year” is a promising title!), and, in fact, some have already appeared.  I think the early ones, like this film and Songbird, for instance, will illustrate just how bad things could have been, because our national situation was bad, but it could have become a real horror show had the virus been more deadly.  Before the Fire provides a glimpse into a land of deadly virus, martial law, frightened people and bad decisions.

Charlie Buhler’s film follows TV actress Ava Boone (Jenna Lyng Adams, who also wrote the pungent script) as she flees Los Angeles for America’s heartland, but rural South Dakota holds more terror for her than the big city.  Ava (also known as Amanda; Ava is her stage name) stays with her boyfriend’s family, avoiding her own, but eventually they learn she is back in town and try to persuade her to return home.  Meanwhile, the virus gets worse, martial law is declared and everyone ends up on their own.  The tense situation is only exacerbated as every character makes foolish mistakes and bad decisions.

The point of this nihilistic drama is that people’s inherent flaws and weaknesses are worse than any pandemic.  I think that is probably true, but I’m sick of it as a major dramatic point.  Aliens, zombies, plague — these are all really bad situations, but the movies would have us believe, often quite logically, that how people react to them is always going to be worse.  However true that would be, I’m tired of it.  There is nothing new about this point of view, and it is tiresome in the extreme.  Ava’s father Jasper (Charles Hubbell) proves to be much worse than any plague, which is why she left in the first place, but it takes the entire movie for her to finally break free forever.

Although the story moves slowly there is a lot to like about it as Ava accepts her new situation and does her best to help her adoptive family.  Yet every other decision that she or others make is a poor one, beginning with her boyfriend’s decision to send her home but continue his own work as a photojournalist as the pandemic worsens.  It’s tough to watch a film where you want to scream at the characters to do something else every ten minutes or so because you can see the trouble coming that they cannot.  At least this is an honest, sincere attempt (made before our own pandemic began) to capture the sense of a world in trouble.  Much of that sense seems prescient.  ☆ ☆.  25 April 2021.