The Setup: Astronauts, Apocalypse, and… Oh No, Mutants
Some sci-fi apocalypse films try to hide their budget in shadows, smoke, or metaphor. The Aftermath says “to hell with that” and just throws you straight into a nuclear hellscape where biological weapons have made the survivors uglier than the plot of Battlefield Earth. We open with three astronauts returning to Earth after the end of the world — one promptly dies in a crash landing, as if his agent read the script and pulled him out early. The survivors, Newman (Steve Barkett) and Matthews, step out onto a Los Angeles that’s been reduced to rubble, mutants, and the kind of property values you see in the “before” photo of a house-flipping show.
It’s the cinematic equivalent of finding your old hometown on Google Earth and realizing half of it has been replaced by a Spirit Halloween and a sinkhole.
The Hero: Steve Barkett, Star, Director, Producer, and Possibly Craft Services
Steve Barkett isn’t just the star — he’s also the director, writer, and, judging from how much screen time he gives himself, his own biggest fan. To his credit, he brings a gruff, grounded quality to Newman that actually works in this setting. He’s less the traditional action hero and more the weary neighbor who’d help you fix a fence post before reminding you the world’s ended and the mutants are coming for your canned beans.
Barkett’s direction gives us just enough scope to believe in the apocalypse without making the budget’s seams too obvious. That’s a rare trick in low-budget genre filmmaking, and it keeps The Aftermath from tipping over into unintentional parody.
Sid Haig as Cutter: The Bandit King of the Wasteland
And then we have Sid Haig — the man, the myth, the bald, bearded, leather-wearing post-apocalyptic nightmare. As Cutter, he’s the kind of villain who could gut you, steal your supplies, and still somehow charm your dog. He’s not just a generic bad guy; he’s the very face of chaotic, opportunistic evil in the wasteland, the human embodiment of “I was raised on bad whiskey and even worse intentions.”
Haig injects so much energy into his scenes that you almost wish the mutants would step aside and let him run the whole Earth. Sure, it’d be brutal, but at least it’d be efficient.
The Heart: Chris and the Museum Curator
One of the smartest moves The Aftermath makes is giving Newman something to care about besides survival. Enter Chris, a young boy hiding in a museum with the curator, played by none other than Forrest J Ackerman — the godfather of monster fandom himself. Ackerman’s cameo as the gentle, radiation-poisoned curator is both sweet and meta; here’s a man who spent his life celebrating monsters, now dying in a world overrun by them.
Chris becomes Newman’s responsibility after the curator’s death, and their relationship provides an emotional core the film desperately needs. It’s not saccharine — this is still a wasteland, after all — but it gives us stakes beyond “don’t get murdered.”
Sarah: The Woman Who Didn’t Deserve This
Lynne Margulies’ Sarah enters the story on the run from Cutter’s gang, only to end up meeting a fate that’s pure post-apocalyptic tragedy. She’s kind, resourceful, and clearly set up to be the love interest… until the script yanks her away in a brutal twist. Her death isn’t just there for shock value; it’s the push Newman needs to take the fight directly to Cutter.
Also, side note — between Sarah, Chris, and the museum curator, Newman seems cursed to lose literally anyone he cares about. If you meet him after the apocalypse, maybe just wave from a distance.
The Wasteland on a Dime
Given the $150,000 budget, The Aftermath actually looks surprisingly good. Robert Skotak’s matte paintings sell the devastation with the right mix of scale and decay, and while the mutants aren’t exactly The Thing-level grotesque, they’re creepy enough to feel like a genuine threat. The abandoned mansion, dusty roads, and skeletal cityscapes all have that lived-in quality you want from a post-nuclear setting.
Sure, you can tell some shots are doing the cinematic equivalent of holding their breath to hide the budget gaps, but Barkett knows where to point the camera. He gives you just enough apocalypse to let your imagination fill in the rest.
The Violence: Grit Over Gore
This isn’t a splatterfest. The violence is there — mutants attacking, gang fights, gunfire — but it’s handled in a way that feels more survivalist than sensational. When Sarah is killed, it’s ugly, not operatic; when Cutter’s gang dies, it’s cathartic without being cartoonish. Even Newman’s final injury feels grounded, which makes Chris’s act of vengeance all the more satisfying.
The most chilling moment? Chris walking off alone at the end. No music swelling, no safety net. Just a kid in a dead world, heading off into whatever fresh nightmare waits over the horizon.
Why It Works (Even If It Shouldn’t)
The Aftermath shouldn’t work as well as it does. On paper, it’s just another early-’80s low-budget apocalypse film with mutants, gangs, and moral-of-the-story grit. But Barkett’s sincerity, Sid Haig’s menace, and a surprisingly strong emotional throughline elevate it into something better.
It’s a movie made by people who cared — about the characters, about the setting, and about squeezing every drop of atmosphere out of the budget. And while it has its rough edges (some acting wobbles, pacing hiccups, and mutant makeup that sometimes looks like papier-mâché left in the sun), it’s got heart.
