Documentary. Starring Michael Ruppert. Directed by Chris Smith. (Not rated. 82 minutes. At Bay Area theaters.)

Michael Ruppert looks cornered in a gritty Los Angeles meat locker, ranting to an unseen documentarian and smoking as if there was no tomorrow.

And that's exactly his belief: There will be no tomorrow because of our alarming dependence on oil, which is about to dry up, and because our economic system has become one big pyramid scheme. Electric cars are a smoke screen, clean coal is a joke and ethanol is an even bigger joke. You better start saving organic seeds, because they'll be the real currency when (not if) the apocalypse hits.

Ruppert may seem like a kook, but he's the Cadillac of conspiracy theorists - looking and dressing like the guy who does your taxes, while delivering his beliefs in nonpartisan assaultive bursts that defy the possibility of selfish interest. Who would want to buy this guy's book or visit his Web site? After hearing 82 minutes of Ruppert, who would want to do anything except hug the kids extra tight and start tilling whatever land you have in the backyard?

"Collapse" has a double meaning - the collapse of society and the collapse of the film's subject. Shot with two cameras that circle Ruppert like vultures (shades of Errol Morris' "The Fog of War"), the former Los Angeles cop vents nonstop, interrupted only by spare video clips and the occasional semi-skeptical query from director Chris Smith. These questions are like water on a grease fire, often sending Ruppert into frustrated fits. It's almost a relief when the film's subject finally breaks down into tears. At least he didn't have an aneurysm.

Smith, who directed the brilliant "American Movie," has a knack for exposing the weaknesses of his subjects, while championing their nobility. "Collapse" will leave you shaken about the future of the planet, and saddened about the shattered life of the messenger.

-- Advisory: Strong language.