It takes more than the end of the Cold War to deter film-makers from end-of-the world scenarios.
Unlike spy film, which have slipped discreetly from the screen, post-apocalyptic adventures are a going concern.
There is still plenty of free-floating anxiety out there (crime, social breakdown), along with the specific, stock-to-your-shoe variety (North Koreans with the bomb, Russian fascists). The Four Horsemen are not out to pasture yet.
Besides, the Holocaust makes such a great fashion statement - all those strapping leather-clad guys and gals, the ponytails, the mohawks, the punk attitudes.
Forget bourgeois decline, where everybody lives out their days at Shady Acres waring stretch Levi's, playing shuffle-board.
The people of the Apocalypse live fast and die young.
American Cyborg: Steel Warrior is the latest and a particularly lame specimen. It borrows its rags from The Road Warrior and its plot from The Terminator.
