Margot Robbie and Chris Pine's Sci-Fi Gem: A Hidden Treasure for Movie Buffs

“Z for Zachariah” paints a rather bleak picture of humanity's conclusion. In this lesser-known cinematic gem—which, let’s say, isn’t a laugh-a-minute comedy—we find ourselves sipping the last dregs of life with Margot Robbie, Chris Pine, and Chiwetel Ejiofor as the ultimate survivors in a post-apocalyptic world. It’s a rather dramatic affair, not your typical Saturday night movie. Robbie plays Ann, a faithful Christian woman whose luck seems to have outshined wisdom in this nuclear wasteland. Pine’s character, a rough cut coal miner, is cunning and difficult to trust; a pairing that could easily headline a Broadway show—one entitled “Jeopardy of Trust.”
And then there’s Ejiofor as John Loomis, who carries the somber title of “the last man.” Ah yes, we mustn't forget the delightful irony at play where the duo of Loomis and Ann starkly contrasts the tale of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Here, it’s rather reminiscent of those charming, albeit misguided, stories of life and love when it all comes full circle—perhaps to a more sinister close. In this narrative, “A” stands for Adam, and “Z” for Zachariah, who fittingly assumes the role of the last man on Earth—kind of a title you wouldn’t want at a party.
The film, loosely adapted from Robert C. O'Brien’s novel, admittedly chooses to take liberties with its source material. Cue Caleb, played by none other than Chris Pine, jumping into the fray and creating tension that would make a soap opera blush. The film lingers in that familiar territory of Eden—except now, the apples are radioactive and the stakes are far from mere temptation.
Set in a diabolical world where a nuclear disaster has left nearly everyone pushing daisies, we encounter Ann and her trusty canine companion as the last bastion of humanity. Ann initially lives a peaceful existence, blissfully ignoring her solitude—until she stumbles upon Loomis, a man who shows up next door, possibly as a cosmic joke. He’s an atheist scientist, and when their lives intertwine, we all know this is going to get complicated. The irony here is rich: here we have a hardcore Christian and a staunch atheist trying to navigate survival and companionship. It’s like mixing oil and water but somehow expecting a lovely vinaigrette.
Shortly after Loomis breaks the celestial barrier into Ann’s life, the inevitable happens—he needs saving from his own run-in with that ever-patient radiation waterfall. Ann pulls him from the brink of death, and their bond grows from the ashes of their world. But let’s not hold our breaths for a Hallmark card moment; the atmosphere thickens with jealousy, conflict, and the subtlety of a hand grenade tossed into their Edenic-like existence. Just when things start to mellow, what appears to be an incredibly good-looking coal miner absconds onto the scene like a knight in rugged armor. And wouldn’t you know it? Caleb—who is charming and shares Ann’s faith—sets off a spark that sends Loomis into a jealous tailspin.
The film’s exploration of jealousy turns quite tasty when Loomis and Caleb begin to share tales of their worst survival tactics. Here, we can practically hear the violins rising in dissonant harmony, accenting Ann's dilemma as she finds herself enamored with two very different men—one is broodingly protective, the other dashing and easily agreeable. The audience watches with bated breath as she leans toward the shiny new toy, leaving Loomis seething in his corner like a jilted prom date.
As the story progresses, it is evident that “Z for Zachariah” isn’t just about a romantic tangle; it is, at its core, a poignant commentary on self-destruction and the darker inclinations that dwell within us. The trio’s potential for a new world quickly devolves into a trio of distrust and unease, culminating in a conclusion that hits like a punchline to a devastating joke. The narrative twists like a pretzel, leaving us hanging after Loomis casually announces to Ann that Caleb has vanished from their midst.
The beauty of “Z for Zachariah” lies in its tantalizing ambiguity. It dares viewers to ponder—was Loomis a murderer? The filmmaker’s never quite spells it out, leaving you wondering if it was a calculated risk or simply a tragic accident brought on by human rivalry. One thing is for sure: the tension that led Loomis to respond the way he did was palpable, and the stakes have never felt so high in a love triangle.
Director Craig Zobel later mentioned in an interview that Loomis did indeed take Caleb's life, expertly weaving a web of moral ambiguity that won’t leave your mind anytime soon. Was it revenge? An accident? Or simply the unavoidable result of simmering resentment? In this tension-filled drama, we find ourselves staring into the void of human nature—dark and unflinching.
By the film's ambiguous finale, viewers are left oscillating between hope and despair. They wonder what happens next—not just in the story but in the lives of these fragile characters. Loomis, grappling with his own demons, finds himself contemplating his existence after Caleb's demise, leaving the door ajar for reconciliation or irreversible damage in his relationship with Ann. Can they truly rebuild in a world that's already swirling down the drain? The uncertainties weigh heavy as the credits roll.
So, there it is—the cycle of humanity from “A” for Adam to “Z” for Zachariah, punctuated by the eternal struggle of self-destruction. Loomis, embodying Zachariah, carries the burden of his choices—a fitting reminder that sometimes the most significant hardships come not from the end of the world, but from the fractures within our own souls.