The Living Dead Girl (La Morte Vivante) - review

1982 (France)

2012 Redemption Blu-ray R(All)

Contains spoilers. 

As with most low budget eighties euro nasties I'm torn. Undoubtedly, from acting to script to effects it's easy to pull Jean Rollin's effort apart; yet as has happened before, dare to peer beneath the rather mediocre, sleazy and derivative surface, and it could be argued there's perhaps quite the deep, brooding and entirely engaging angst ridden depth to sink ones teeth into. On the surface a tale of one child hood friend aiding and abetting a seemingly broken and damaged other with increasing disregard for laws or morality, it would be easy to dismiss the film as a cheap slasher with enough escalating violence and nudity to satisfy the braying mob. Yet I think, as is the way with European horror, to make the most of the film is to not bemoan and critique every minute detail, but to focus on the allegory and to ponder a deep and brave philosophical tragedy.

Take for instance the all rather by the numbers opening sequence; of toxic waste, incompetent handling and the inexplicable resurrection of star of the show Françoise Blanchard as Living Dead Girl Catherine Valmont followed by all the gory, excessive and highly choreographed blood shed you'd expect from a continental eighties video nasty. It has a certain nostalgic charm but its amateurish, shoddy and all rather derivative to the point of being easy to dismiss and deride. But I'm going to come to its defence. If one posits, as I do, that film is only really about Catherine, her child hood friend Hélène (Marina Pierro) and their increasingly twisted and morally transient relationship, it's ok that the background is grey and maybe deliberately immaterial and poor. Maybe I'm thinking too deeply, and too forgiving of the rather cheap and throwaway extra characters (especially US model Carina Barone as Barbara Simon and her lover Mike Marshall as Greg) and all the awkwardly drawn out superfluous scenes and sequences, but the core philosophical narrative encourages deeper thought, and it ensures the poignant story isn't lost in all the blood soaked noise.

Catherine and Hélène are more than best child hood buddies. With a blood oath theirs is a friendship that will defy and survive even death. Thus when Catherine reaches out and Hélène comes running it's only a matter of time until she's happy to be complicit in all that it takes to satiate the dead girls gruesome demands. For a fan of the genre the film is a fascinating study in deadness in a physical and hunger driven sense and deadness in a conscious ethical framework. Catherine comes back from the dead as a blood hungry zombie without will, conscious checks and balances and I'd argue no cognitive ability other than when the time is right to recognise her one true love (though I'd argue she'd have even attacked her the moment she returned.)

Hélène contrary, is alive, human, and fully reasoning, yet has her own issues, as drawn to Catherine's side she's immediately forced to make increasingly morally dubious snap decisions, in a surreal whirlwind of emotion and consequence. Their relationship, and the philosophical conundrum the film presents, is that with each brutal death and feeding, Catherine regains some of her will and self. Her memories, consciousness and conscience begin to return bringing with it an existential crisis and internal moral conflict as she comes to terms with the monster she's become. Counter to this, Hélène close to having back the friend that was lost; is increasingly desperate and single minded to the extreme in her determination; but she's also increasingly numb and ambivalent from and to the pain and death she's responsible for. I'm sure there's a fitting quote from Nietzsche I could use here, something about monsters and the abyss; save to say by the end Rollin's exquisite moral tragedy had come together with resonance and ambiguous devastation.

Living Dead Girl will perhaps be remembered for it's extremely graphic and shocking ending; a drawn out scene of zombie cannibalism more excessive and sobering, yet emotional and heavy than anything else I've seen. It will also be remembered for its ample nudity, though I'd argue it's not only rather more tastefully handled than Rollin's other films, notably Zombie Lake, it's even aesthetically and narratively coherent. For most it will probably be remembered but ultimately dismissed for all the above plus its amateurish eighties euro trash credentials; of poor acting, bad effects and awkward dialogue. However, I'd personally like it to be remembered for the audacity of Rollin to try and play with humanity, love and death in a deeply nuanced, respectful, unique and beautiful way - 8/10.

Steven@WTD.

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest - review

2006 (USA)

2011 Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment 1-4 Box Set Blu-ray R(A/1 B/2)

Contains spoilers.

  

One bloody monkey. That's all it took to dictate whether or not Gore Verbinski (director) and Jerry Bruckheimer's (producer) second hokey Pirates of the Caribbean adventure would make for a zombie movie review or not. One bloody monkey. You see, I don't think Davy Jones's crew, though gnarly, dark and ugly, really make the zombie cut. I know they're century old degenerates, in both mind and body, and forced to an eternal servitude of murder, rape and pillage across the high seas, but for the most part they're cognisant, and seem pretty enamoured with their whole predicament. Now, like in my review of the previous film there's certainly some zombie ambiguity to the crew what with all the immortality and curses, and it is the Caribbean and voodoo with priests with funny bones and what-not; but there's just not enough groaning and mindlessness. It all comes down to one bloody monkey and you probably, like me, even missed his zombification at the end of the first film, where the long credits fade and it's Barbossa’s pet back with the cursed gold coins of Cortés in Isla de Muerta's. A thirty odd second bit of throwaway fun with the little shit stealing a piece, and wham, a zombie-monkey and here we are.

What to say about the film? It's every bit the triple-A bombastic multi-million pound spectacular it's billed as. It's Johnny Depp , Orlando Bloom and Keira Knightley all doing what they're paid audaciously stupid amounts of money to do. It's wall to wall ridiculous and jaw dropping effects; an extravagant non-stop roller-coaster of fun, and a tremendous way to spend a family Sunday afternoon. It is perhaps a tad long, at two and a half hours and it's also perhaps a little more contrived and forced than the first; but the high jinx high-seas tale of treachery, redemption and friendship is strong and competent enough to deliver every bit the perfect level of low brain escapism.

It's also every bit the part of something greater. You see, Dead Man's Chest is part one of a two film story arc shot simultaneously with the third PoC instalment, At World's End. As such I've seen it compared to The Empire Strikes Back; an unresolved journey movie that leaves more questions than it answers. Whilst Davy Jones's heart is turned over to the East Indian Trading Company's Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander), and the Kraken is overcome so that Elizabeth, Will and the crew can make their escape the film is chock full of hanging threads, none more so than the fate of Captain Sparrow, last seen being dragged to the depths of the sea. We could also, if we wanted to be cynical, strip the film down and argue that there's actually very little meaningful content, and that the film is really just a rather drawn out two and half hour long tease for a climax we'd have to wait another year to get. Also, that a great many of the long elaborate sequences, such as Captain Sparrow's capture and on the island ruled by cannibals, or the extended three-way in-fight on Isla Cruces are rather unnecessary contrived filler, and if merged with the second film and given a rather frugal edit they'd both benefit. I'm not sure though, for as much as the critic in me agrees with all this, I did actually enjoy all the superfluous goofing about and maybe that's what the film is ultimately all about.

So this zombie monkey. As I stated in the previous film's review, the curse is actually more about looking undead than actually being undead, and though appearing as a ghastly ghoul when the moon is out might not be everyone's cup of tea, the immortality and a imperviousness that comes with the condition probably more than compensates. So perhaps he's not quite a zombie; but Jack clearly calls him undead and demonstrates his unique selling point with a close quarters gun shot during a trade with obeah priestess Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris) to discover the location of the Flying Dutchman. And its crew? Not really zombie either, with looks more akin to undersea creature hybrid mutants, and temperaments closer to the particular nasty and uncouth pirate crew their reputation alludes to. And also while they may well be under the command of Davy Jones, as said, they don't seem particularly upset about carrying out his wishes.

So not really a zombie film and even the undead monkey is perhaps probably a bit zombie suspect; still ambiguity is at the heart of zombie myth and Barbossa has come back, albeit briefly at the end, from a state that was most definitely dead. It's also the Caribbean and voodoo; and as I've said before, part four, On Stranger Tides does promise no question gut-munchers (well maybe not quite, as remember this is Disney and family friendly fun), and we're now at least one closer. Fully deserving of its accolade as fastest film ever to gross over $1 billion in the worldwide box office at the time, and fully deserving of all the popular plaudits I can't really fault it as a great pop-corn action spectacular, and recommend it wholeheartedly for a family treat. Albeit as said, have At World's End sat ready in the wing to finish the story, which I'll be no doubt doing too, and also hoping that bloody monkey has done one so I can skip another nearly zombie film - 7/10.

Steven@WTD.

Erotic (Sexy) Nights of the Living Dead - review

1980 (Italy)

2004 Shriek Show DVD R(1)

Contains spoilers.

Let's address the obvious. Notorious Italian Director Joe D'Amato's Erotic Nights of the Living Dead is a hard-core pornographic feature, with full penetration, oral, girl on girl and pop-shots, and we're not just talking about the original and now infamous scene with a bottle of champagne, and this factor alone is going to dictate to most whether this is a film for them. Well it is and perhaps it shouldn't. You see there are two versions. There's the 'uncut' one with all the aforementioned explicit squelching and twelve minutes of extra rudity, and there's a 'general' release without, and now having, ahem, educated myself with what one would be missing I can make the case that one would actually not only be not missing that much, but they'd perhaps actually be watching something that benefited directly because of it. Getting right to it, which is coincidentally, exactly what eighties Italians seem to do; unless you just have to watch pretty tame, lethargic and drawn out amateur vintage euro porn then the film benefits immensely with faster pacing, stronger cohesion and identity and a more consistent narrative for not being interrupted with it every five minutes. Don't get me wrong it's still wall to wall tits and arse but it's not quite so distracting.

It's a film about a zombie island and the trip to it, and we'll start with this. Larry (George Eastman) owns a boat. John (Mark Shannon), who made me think of Ron Burgandy, wants to hire the boat so he can scope Cat Island for a potential holiday resort, and Fiona (Dirce Funari) wants to take her clothes off. Larry, Mark and Fiona also like sex; a lot, and let's say they're all quite unreserved with who they have it with. It's your usual Zombie Flesh Eaters (Zombi 2) inspired, Italian styled drawn out zombie nonsense with dire legends and warnings, except here with a lot, and I mean a lot more nudity. There is a small zombie cameo, which acts as a small amuse-bouche for the action that will arrive a lot later; but it's a bit leveraged and never taken anywhere.  What we really have is a good hour of badly acted, terribly dubbed, nothingness, that's somehow entirely watchable and absorbing, perhaps both for its awfulness and a terrible voyeuristic perversion just to see what, and you just know it'll be next to little, reason Fiona will find to strip down to the altogether.

Arriving at the island they're met with more warnings, this time in person from mystic and teller of sooths Luna (Laura Gemser - Black Emanuelle) who by remarkable coincidence is also more than happy to get down and jiggly with it, and her grandfather, but instead of listening to tales of an evil zombie master cat, and certain death, choose instead to sunbathe, smoke, drink and frolic in the sun. And honestly, when the zombies start emerging and the weird monkey totems have been summarily cast aside, I had no sympathy for all the screaming, chasing and dying that occurred.

The best way of describing the zombies is 'mixed bag'. There's an attempt at the full fetid, maggot crusted Fulci undead; and they get close on occasion with elaborate make-up and prosthetics, but all too often it's just some fella with some rags and a vacant expression (all the zombies are male). For every confident, dark and uncomfortable, and some of them truly were, zombie sequence with raggedy soulless denizens crawling out from their shallow grave or the ocean forcing our now slightly less sex-obsessed survivors back like an endless surge; there was some guy with a night-shirt jumping out with his arms outstretched like a pathetic slightly uncertain panther. Overall though, and taking into account again that this film was one part zombie to two parts tits-out, the thirty or so minutes when the zombies do matter were surprisingly entertaining and bafflingly strong. Again though, for all the wrong reasons; as if the script and narrative were to be dissected in any way it would be found severely wanting in coherence, competence and substance.

Joe D'Amato's Erotic Nights of the Living Dead is truly wanting, even when put up against other early eighties European horror, and that in itself is quite telling. And yet as a film and feature it's not as bad as it could have been; somehow providing enough intrigue to see things through. For as much as I can, and will, criticise it from top to bottom, from premise to production, I can honestly say I was never truly bored; enjoying the ride like a spellbound slightly uncomfortable voyeur watching a horrific multi-car pile-up, except where everyone was naked. I also found myself strangely forgiving of the obvious sexploitation as the women were not only always in control, but more often the ones with the perceived power, dictating the terms and timing of each sexual encounter, as if the men were just randy little teens always on standby to perform to command. And yes, it's a zombie movie; a real one, and not some half-hearted pornographic satirical swipe at the genre, with an earnest and revered attempt at getting things right. I'm neither going to recommend or reject this odd little Italian sleaze; more suggest it's not totally and summarily dismissed out of hand for, as I stated, the obvious reason - 4/10.

Steven@WTD.

Dylan Dog: Dead of Night - review

2010 (USA)

2013 Optimum Home Entertainment Blu-ray R(B/2)

Contains spoilers.

I really wanted to really like director Kevin Munroe's comic-book inspired crime-noir b-movie horror-comedy-thriller. A vast and complex web of vampires, werewolves and zombies all hidden in plain sight, ancient tensions and a fragile peace held in a precarious and perpetual balance, and a broken, disillusioned private investigator the only person with both the knowledge and will to redeem himself and hold it all together. It's all there. Underworld, Blade, Buffy, True Blood; even Twilight (ok maybe stretching it) found a way, and with the rich and abundant source material (Tiziano Sclavi's 80 odd Italian comics), and the budget to make it happen, it should be have been easy. Now I'm not going to make the case that Dead of Night is a bad film; far from, it; but as a woefully missed opportunity, I'll call it now. And what makes it worse and me genuinely quite angry is its problems are all its own making.

Cheesy crime-noir atmosphere with narration, a recognisable actor in Bradon Routh (Superman Returns and Ray Palmer / Atom in the DC comic reboots) as Dylan Dark and a fairly dark jumpy death discovery and werewolf encounter. Things actually start pretty well; the characters are interesting and the drip fed unveiling of the underworld engaging. We learn about New Orleans, as the undead Mecca, of werewolves that can control their transformation and of the vampire hierarchy and their subtle control of the vulnerable with the misuse of their blood as a narcotic. It's a world within the world with a rich history and complex dynamics; and the death of a local importer by an undead, and the bringing in of Dylan as lead investigator by his daughter Elizabeth (Anita Briem) has all the clans and tribes on edge.

As said, it all sounds good? So what went wrong? Two things. I first started having doubts when the zombies were introduced. While the set-up wasn't the most dark and macabre cinema I've yet watched it was still edgy, sombre and believable. With the death of Dylan's best friend Marcus (Sam Huntington) and his subsequent reintroduction I was soon to learn that in Dead of Night zombies were to directly equate to goofy light-relief, and nothing more. Now I understand that the film was also a bit of a comedy, and some of the gags were successful, but whether it's zombie cleaning regiments, zombie support groups, zombie cuisine or chop shops, it's as if the writers were given a bumper book of zombie jokes for Christmas and no one at any point told them they shouldn't try and include all of them. The humour becomes ultimately distracting and the sheer quantity of farce threatens to overwhelm all the other elements that were teased.

Which brings us on to the second main reason I think it unravelled the longer it went on. Last year I finished Tell Tales' The Wolf Among Us. It's another crime-noir with witches, vampires and werewolves and a less than perfect lone man trying to keep the peace. It's story was intricate and engaging and most importantly full of twists, surprises and nuance; and quite the opposite of what Dead of Night eventually becomes. Dead of Night has a cookie-cutter approach to story with every plot and sub-narrative playing out exactly as you think it will. An intriguing story is set-up then it's as if the writers and director hadn't planned in any detail what they'd do, so drop the mystery from the murder, resort to cliché vampire / zombie / werewolf scenes as if working from a tick sheet hoping the zombie gag show will save them. It's all rather a hodgepodge of albeit sometimes good, extraneous ideas that culminates in a grand finale that fails in to deliver either a surprise or any real satisfaction.

As stated and not quite as intended maybe Dylan Dog: Dead of Night inadvertently becomes more of a zombie comedy sketch show, than a vampire,  werewolf or undead hard-boiled movie. The zombies are dead but they're still exactly as they were though now rotting and rather more foul smelling. They can only eat human flesh and maggots though as cognisant and still with conscience they generally tend for the latter and as there's quite the active secret and lively social scene with jobs and help available being a zombie is more an inconvenience than a state of being. That is of course as long as you don't let it slide. One of the more intriguing ideas is that without due care and attention it can all slide Walking Dead, gnarly, and mindless flesh eating even with the additional predilection for zombie flesh. It's only briefly played with but from a zombie perspective an interesting one; again though as part of a whole film it was fun but was it really necessary or integral?

Maybe I'm being too harsh and maybe what Dead of Night suffers from was simply trying too hard; showing us too many things, playing with too many ideas with the consequence of seeing the narrative forced to accommodate, and dumbed down as a result. What we do have is a story of murder, betrayal and grand if twisted motives, which if extracted and looked at with a critical eye would unfortunately be found lacking in coherence, imagination and intelligence. Of course all this of course wasn't helped by, if I'm honest, quite the wooden one dimensional performance from a lead I thought at first would be ideally suited, and whilst it takes quite a lot for me to actually call out an actor, such is his and disinterested demeanour and forced chemistry with both Elizabeth and Brandon, he actually makes the film worse just by being in it.  A real missed opportunity, but not a wholly bad film; Mr Dog certainly deserved more though - 5/10.

Steven@WTD.

Practical Magic - review

1998 (USA / Australia)

1999 Warner Home Video DVD R(2)

Contains spoilers.

What? The Sandra Bullock, Nicole Kidman oestrogen fuelled whimsical nineties Wicca rom-com? The one with an ancient hereditary curse, husbands who die young leaving broken hearts and orphan girls with the often poor choice in boyfriends? That's the one. Okay, I was probably very much like you are now, a year or so ago, and despite owning this DVD the best part of fifteen years, and doing this here zombie thing, I'd always shrugged off the idea that it might be worth another look, even if the z word is on the back cover. Well enough is enough, as one, Jimmy Angelov (Goran Visnjic), said poor boyfriend of Gillian, the more feisty and independent of the Owens sisters (Nicole Kidman), does die and is resurrected as something dark and wicked, and two, and I'm not going to hide this, I've always held rather a soft spot for this flick.

  

Practical Magic is the story of condemned and thwarted love. Two hundred years ago, Maria Owens is exiled with her unborn child after a failed execution on the count of her being an active witch and her neighbours being judgemental and ignorant arseholes. When the father and her lover fails to show for the rescue, she throws down a curse so that she shall never know love again, only such was the heartfelt strength of her sorrow and anger that after she died it failed to lift, instead transferring down and condemning her bloodline forever. Jump forward to Gillian and Sally Owens (Sandra Bullock), two orphaned girls with the gift, forced to live with their Aunts Frances (Stockard Channing) and Jet (Dianne Wiest) after their parents too, succumb to the Owens curse.

Well, the girls grow up, they learn the craft, Gillian runs off to party, play and frolic with the sort of boys a good Christian mother wouldn't be happy about and Sally, the more down to earth stays and has a go at making house with all the dire consequences one would expect. This set-up is charming, the characters coherent and inviting and the world the perfect mix of real and magical; of a society full of intolerance and prejudice underpinned by fear, and by that fantastical belief that darkness can always be vanquished by the light of love. But what has this got to do with Zombies?

Well, Gilly's love of 'wrong 'uns' eventually catches up with her in the guise of Transylvanian heart-throb Jimmy Angelov. Not just into drinking, drugs and debauchery, Jimmy also has a bit of an obsessive compulsive disorder for keeping the object of his desire very much in check, both emotionally and physically. Out of her depth, Gilly calls on her deep bond with Sally, Sally comes to her aid and before the night is over they manage to poison Jimmy, resurrect him then kill him again. It's never a good idea to bring someone who's previously really tried to hurt you back to life, especially with the additional caveat they're going to come back even darker, but that's what the girls do. Jimmy, in his initial Zombie form, actually doesn't hang around long, mere seconds, before being dispatched again but he's definitely not the fully compos-mentis Jimmy that was alive, albeit very drunk, earlier that day. 

It's Jimmy, in his second Zombie form, that's occupies the most screen time and is arguably the more interesting. Though is he really a zombie? Though dispatched for the second time his spirit remains and it's neither happy or at rest. At first a nuisance he soon becomes quite attached once more Gilly, literally, and the story becomes one of possession, exorcism, and banishing lost souls and evil spirits (albeit in such a way to bring the townsfolk together, lifting the ancient curse, finding Sally her true love, and bringing harmony and love to all mankind.) I know I've previously stayed away from the subject of possessed souls and zombies; that of a person with their will suppressed, and another non-corporeal will imposed and in command, but in many ways it warrants that the question be asked. Back before Romero when zombies were New World, voodoo and mind control it was merely will over another to do as they commanded that justified the z moniker; and in many ways how is this different, other than the will is of someone / something specifically not of this world. Suffice it to say I don't think it's time to start to adding every possession film to the list just yet; there's a traditional and contemporary idiom that dictates what is or isn't zombie and I need to tread carefully. Here though, with an actual zombie a few moments earlier I do, finally, feel safe to at least include the film and touch on the subject.

Yes Practical Magic is slushy, romantic, emotional, does attempt an uplifting 'and they all lived happily ever after' moral finish, complete with lively country soundtrack, and you can watch it with your children (though some of the bringing back from the dead and possession stuff is perhaps a little much for little ones). Yet it's confident and successful in all that it sets out to achieve; harmless, fun, entertaining and full of feels. Practical Magic is in my opinion an exceedingly joyous way to spend an hour and a half of your family friendly time; that is as long as your black, cynical and miserable heart, or what's left of it, still has room - 8/10.

Steven@WTD.

Versus - review

2000 (Japan)

2003 Tartan Asia Extreme DVD R(0)

Contains spoilers.

Director and co-writer Ryûhei Kitamura's Versus is the story of life, death and resurrection; the eternal battle of light vs darkness made incarnate and flesh. It's a stunning visual tour de force; graphic, beautiful and indulgently crafted; and also breathtakingly unremitting, inviting the viewer to join with it to rejoice in a perpetual martial arts, sword and gun-play master class. It's also, when all is said and done, a tad boring.

One has to admire what Kitamura has put together. Versus really is a visual treat; dare I say it's visual art. Grand sweeping pan shots, extreme zoom in and outs, the great use of pausing and time, all help build a believable yet mysterious, ethereal other-worldly sand-box for the various characters to play in. The faultless display of highly choreographed, sumptuously stylised and captured martial arts, all of the highest calibre also makes Versus an absolute film making triumph; it's faultless; it's performance art.

There's a old adage though, that one can certainly have too much of a good thing and at two hours even the most hard-core fighting fan would start to find the endless barrage of video-game-esque dueling wearisome, however polished it all is. And that's the rub because outside the fighting, the narrative, such as there is, is so minimal, so enamoured with ambiguity, mystery and what hides in the shadows that the bust ups alone are relied on to solely to carry the film; and they just can't do it. That's not to say what little there is, is bad. Kitamura's esoteric mantra, the deliberate design to permeate intangibility across all two hours brings with it an alienness, a transcendentalism that one can't help but admire. But, critically, it rarely made perfect sense, seemed at times to contradict itself and more than once seemed forced so as to justify the next big duel.

Versus is the story of Prisoner KSC2-303 (Tak Sakaguchi) and his eternal struggle against The Man (Hideo Sakaki) and his undead cohort. There's also The Girl (Chieko Misaka), a gang of Yakuza goons, various assassins and some cops. In a what appears to be an endless cycle The Man keeps waiting for the The Girl and KSC2-303 to return resurrected to the world, or more precisely to the Forest of Resurrection, where he can hopefully, this time, perform a sacrifice or something, open one of the 666 portals 'to the other side' and gain some great unimaginable power. All the while the Forest of Resurrection behaves as one would expect bringing any others caught up indirectly in the manage-a-trois death party back as zombies. 

Combine sadistic Yakuza, blood thirsty undead and an ultimate samurai driven callous by the ravages of immortality, but in possession of a really big sword and a plethora of modern weaponry, and you have quite the recipe for an excessive blood bath and Versus delivers, in bucket loads. Whether it's heads, hands, innards or all three, exorbitant but delightful attention has been given to making the zombie or human deaths as memorable and colourful as possible. Scenes are audacious and shocking, and even a bit daft at times, but this is never a Dead Alive (Brain Dead) or Dead Snow; the melancholic atmosphere is always dutifully adhered too, even as twisted zombie caricatures are literally sliced and diced Fruit Ninja style in laughably long and exaggerated set pieces.

Sublime, surreal; Versus is a hard film to judge. A hyper-stylised excess of violence; as a Japanese close combat film it excels in all areas. Except, when your first twenty drawn out duels are as good as the last, when it does get to the big finale where immortal fights immortal and the fate of mankind hangs in the balance, it just fails to deliver the kind of punch you'd expect it to; especially when you'd already enjoyed them going at it together a good few times before. Certainly a zombie high-octane experience, there's much to recommend with Versus and certainly I can understand many shouting it's the best film evar; I'd also go as far as proclaiming it art in both form and function; and yet as a complete cinematic feature it just didn't quite do it for me with just too much, well, everything, 7/10.

Steven@WTD.

Zombies of Mora Tau (The Dead that Walk) - review

1957 (USA)

2007 Sony Pictures Home Entertainment - Icons of Horror Collection: Sam Katzman DVD R(1) with The Giant Claw, Creature with the Atom Brain & The Werewolf. 

Contains spoilers.

'In the darkness of an ancient world - on a shore that time has forgotten there is a twilight zone between life and death. There dwell those nameless creatures who are condemned to prowl the land eternally - The Walking Dead."

Director Edward L. Cahn's oldie worldly African adventure presents somewhat of a dilemma. Undoubtedly an important milestone in zombie cinema, ambitious with a remarkably high body count for a film of its time and ilk, and well-presented and put together, there's a lot to admire. Yet as a whole it just doesn't quite hold together, even taking into account a three-quarters of century shift in cultural appetite. Firmly a serious horror-action adventure the film gets straight to the point, the zombies are front and centre occupying plenty of screen time and action, and deaths come quick and fast; the film does everything right even by today's attention-deficit standards. But this is perhaps it's failing. With a narrative that feels harried, and interaction that while often delightful, more often feels forced and presumptive; the films comes across as just trying that bit too hard without the requisite nuance or subtlety. A scene to scene action film can work but the script has to be tight, cohesive and constantly self-invigorating and sadly The Zombies of Mora Tau fails on all three counts.

It's deepest darkest colonial Africa; not quite Conrad's Heart of Darkness but certainly a jumping off point. Just off the lake shore, a stone's throw from widow Grandmother Peters (Marjorie Eaton) grand colonial house sits the wreck of the Susan B, its cursed diamond treasure, and what should be the corpses of the twenty or so souls that perished as it was returning its ill-gotten gains to the new world. Except the scuttled ship lies uninhabited and the souls who perished aren't at rest. As the preface informed us; they're the walking dead, condemned to prowl the earth and waters, in this case to protect the diamond cargo and punish all who try to claim it as their own.

This is of course is where captain and mission underwriter George Harrison (Joel Ashley) and his crew fit in, as they intend to complete what all else have failed. It's a good story; Harrison, his coquettish wife Mona (Allison Hayes), the target of her wayward affections, lead diver Jeff Clark (Gregg Palmer) and African archaeologist Dr. Jonathan Eggert (Morris Ankrum) take refuge in Granny Peters and her recently returned granddaughter Jan's (Autumn Russell) house, and start to unravel the mystery. Along the way Jan gets carried off into the jungle by a zombie, Mona runs off into the jungle and the men drink brandy, do breakfast,  squabble about who should have what, and and forge ahead regardless of all the warnings.

The zombies are the walking dead, some seven years before The Last Man of Earth, some eleven years before Romero and a full half decade before its namesake series debuted and changed zombies and popular culture forever. Whilst voodoo is mentioned, here though there's no life and death ambiguity, nor, no priest or priestess enslaving the living as eternal servants; the walking dead are dead, are-no-more, ceased-to-be... They don't breathe, have no pulse, have no free-will and no morality. They are shells, echoes of their former selves and one of the first instances of the zombie untethered from another's will. As with other zombie films, there is still of course a guiding drive; though here it's not hunger, reproduction or blood-lust but the curse to ensure the diamonds aren't taken away, which in many ways makes them more akin to draugr, ancient ghouls tasked with protecting their treasure, and a mythology more Norse and Germanic than African. Also, it's the 1950s so there's no gouging or teeth sinking and certainly no unquenchable hunger for human flesh in the efforts to carry out their calling, so the zombies have to resort to strangling, stabbing and punching, though in a way that's still for its time quite dark and edgy. There's also an imperviousness to gun-shots, and other physical damage, with only a weakness to fire, again rather forward thinking.

An important and rather unheralded part of the zombie story, The Zombies of Mora Tau plays around with many tropes that eventually become main-stays. Yet while certainly not a bad film, the effects haven't weathered the passage of time, the script and acting, especially the role of the women of the film; primarily as hysterical victim, wanton floozy or doting or grieving wife all seems rather uncomfortably outdated, and, or hokey. With a set-up, story and narrative that had the potential to be gripping, enthralling and immensely original, that it ended up feeling so laboured, forced, repetitious and most disappointingly, merely adequate is a shame; especially for something so pivotal - 5/10.

Steven@WTD.

Undead or Alive - review

 

2007 (USA)

2009 Lions Gate Home Entertainment DVD R(2)

Contains mild spoilers.

Undead or Alive is the zombie genres nod to Blazing Saddles and The Three Amigos. It's a Western cinematic farce, full of slapstick and silly one-liners; it's a film of unlikely friendship, full of warmth, loyalty; it's an over the top action flick, indulgent and excessive, and it's a film with really great moustaches. It's also a movie that could easily have gone awry, but under the direction of Glasgow Phillips, and this may be personal, I genuinely believe it accomplished all it set out to.

The great frontier was sparse, brutal and life was painfully simple and great Westerns understand the need for a narrative that matches it's barren home. Unlikely companions Elmer Windslow (James Denton) and Luke Rudd (Chris Kattan) find themselves teamed up, and on the run from corrupt Sheriff Claypool (Matt Besser) and his posse. It's simple, straight-forward and the whys and wheres aren't particularly important, though the preamble is light, airy and fun. What is important, and the only extra layer or complexity, is that New Mexican el-supremo hunter is now quite the undead gut muncher and his hunger for retrieving the money the boys stole, is as insatiable as it is for their brains.

What elevates Undead or Alive from being dismissed as just another low budget comedy, cashing in on the zombie fad, is the quality of the dialogue and acting, and the rather witty and satisfying story. Windslow and Rudd who are soon joined by the entirely endearing Sioux Sue (Navi Rawat) are a joy to watch. As they all come together there's genuine on-screen warmth and aided by a clever script they very quickly become characters you feel invested in. Likewise Claypool and his incompetent Deputy Cletus (Chris Coppola) play the western villain caricatures convincingly with just the right amount of intimidation and ham. For the reasonably low budget it's all very professionally put together, with great scene composition, good camera work and actors who seem more than willing to go that extra mile knowing the script and story are solid. I also especially enjoyed the switches back to the town long after it was ever going to be relevant again, to see it descend further and further down the zombie rabbit hole with as much humour as they could get away with. These interludes, again, despite being superfluous to the main story, helped cement the world and demonstrate a real enthusiasm that can't help but rub off on the viewer.

Sheriff Claypool, Cletus, their posse and the unfortunate collateral damage (townsfolk, army, etc.) have Native Indian Geronimo to thank for their Zombification, or White Man's Curse. How farmer Ben first contracted the infection is a mystery; the last and world famous Apache medicine man waved his magic sticks, spoke some powerful ancient words and the next thing poor old Ben was groaning, shuffling and tucking into a chicken aperitif before turning to his wife and daughter. The zombie infection despite starting as a curse soon turns into the tried and tested one bite and you're it infection game and before you can say Geronimo's your uncle, Ben's back at town and the majority are queueing up to join the brain eating club.

Now Glasgow Phillips doesn't hold back when it comes to gore, blood and the general excessive zombie silliness when it comes to either them despatching their victims or their prey getting the axe in first. He also doesn't hold back from genre disruption by allowing the recently departed their full cognitive abilities. They can talk, ride horses; they 're really just red eyed decaying versions of themselves though maybe now with less empathy, and the ever present yearning to eat people which dictates their behaviour. If one was to over-think them, sure there are inconsistencies and choices that would make the genre-purist shudder, but it's a comedy, and a farcical one, and there should be some licence to play.

Undead or alive might be cheesy, and it might all be a bit amateurish and silly, but it's charming, darn well likeable and can't fail to maintain a smile on your face. Well shot with a great sound track it has everything you'd want from Western Zom-rom-com; well-choreographed shoot-outs, immature and excessive slapstick and throwaway one-liners from two actors who play cowboy dumb and dumber to perfection. It's well-paced, thoroughly entertaining and hard not to recommend. Also, that there was found a genuinely consistent and cohesive reason for someone to wear a comedy arrow through the head prop for almost the entirety of the film is Oscar worthy and reason enough to give it a - 7/10.

Steven@WTD.

The Ghoul - review

1933 (UK)

2010 Included on Ultimate Horror Classics SD Blu-ray R(All)

Contains spoilers.

The story of The Ghoul's release, preservation and eventual VHS / DVD release is perhaps as interesting as the film itself. After the film's theatre release in the UK in 1933, the US in 1934, then one final reissue in 1938, the film was for all intents and purposes lost. Not even a trailer existed. In 1969 a virtually inaudible but subtitled version was uncovered in Czechoslovakia, and though it was missing eight minutes of what would have been considered at the time, excessive brutal savagery, it allowed fans to actually get to see Boris Karloff strutting about in his prime. Finally in the early 1980s behind a forgotten Shepperton Studios door a perfect negative was found, The British Film Institute was able to make a clean new print and we're all now able to appreciate this 1933 gothic horror in all its glory.

Director T. Hayes Hunter's The Ghoul is a low budget film of its era. The story is hokey, full of cliché and a little convoluted, the acting stilted, with dialogue on more than one occasion forced and exaggerated. Scene by scene it would be easy to pick holes, yet as whole entity The Ghoul still today, in all its black and white glory, oozes atmosphere and style, with a narrative that stays remarkably on point, pacing that feels unforced and at ease, unlike many horrors of the day, and the myriad of twists and turns does keep the film feeling fresh and interesting.

It's all about The Eternal Light™. Esteemed Egyptologist and soon to be dead Prof. Henry Morlant (Boris Karloff) wanted it, his solicitor Broughton (Cedric Hardwicke) when he discovers how much he paid for it, wants it, Egyptian Sheik Aga Ben Dragore (Harold Huth) wants it back, Ralph Morlant (Anthony Bushell) and cousin Betty Harlon (Dorothy Hyson) want to inherit it, Nigel Hartley (Ralph Richardson) wants to steal it; heck, even the police know about it and want to return it. The thing is servant and most trusted confidant, Laing (Ernest Thesiger) has it and the person this has most annoyed died earlier that day.

It maybe tries a little too hard with the ambitious number of characters all vying for control, and okay, the film does labour a bit over the first thirty or so minutes as it contrives to fill the back story, introduce and give reason to get all the interested parties to Morlant's late night Egyptian slumber party right on time. But once in attendance, and with Morlant ready to make his grand after-death appearance the film flows, with characters and action bouncing off each with spirit and finesse; and it's the perfect vehicle for Karloff to once again work his screen presence.

Morlant wants The Eternal Light™ because he believes it will ultimately grant him eternal life. On his death bed he instructs Laing to wrap the gold-gem-broach-thing to his hand ready for him to be buried in his newly constructed faux-Egyptian tomb where, when the next full moon's light reaches the door, the hand of the nearby statue of Anubis will, if he's done well, clasp it and transfer immortality. Should however The Eternal Light™ be missing he informs him, he will come back to kill! Morlant may be a heathen and a bit self-centred, spending all his inheritance unscrupulously acquiring  the light, but he is at least a man of his word.

Now Morlant wasn't looking great before he died. With heavy eyes, broken deteriorated skin he certainly possessed the right zombie face to immediately fit straight in should there have been a sudden modern outbreak. Up and about, he appears angry, desperate and increasingly gruesome with both deteriorating body and mind. Now, it is suggested near the end that rather than actually being returned from the dead (back to life is a term never mentioned) he was in fact suffering from catalepsy. Whether or not right, there's still a lot of ambiguity. Morlant on returning never speaks, his cognitive functioning appears to be degrading and he appears to possess unnatural strength. His compulsion to reacquire the Light is also all consuming with parallels to the Draugr / Revenant mythology; undead creatures returned from the dead to protect their ill-gotten treasure. Yes he's not the Romero or modern zombie, with memory, and ability to function and interact with the world, but he's not the Morlant that died in bed demonstrable and absolute.

A middle quarter aside that rather drags out and convolutes the set-up, The Ghoul is tight claustrophobic death house gothic horror that remarkably, some 80 years after being made still retains charm, style, atmosphere, and the ability to surprise. Egypt and curses is a trope that's been done to death, but here there's a real early play with the ambiguity of the zombie, or the walking-dead; a play with the life-death dissonance that resonates uncomfortableness on the viewer. Surround this in a solid crime drama with interesting characters all vying to win the prize, and even a bit of light comedy, with the eccentric and exaggerated Kaney (Kathleen Harrison) and the film is a very solid early horror treat that should be sought out. Whether Morlant is a zombie or not, that'll have to be up to you, 7/10.

Steven@WTD.

Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead - review

2014 (Norway)

2015 Entertainment One Blu-ray R(B/2)

Contains spoilers.

Dead Snow was a brilliant film, but it was also a bit of a confusing one. Not confusing in terms of plot and story; the way it told the derivative cabin in the woods cum Friday 13th albeit with Nazi zombies not Jason pick em off slasher was entirely gettable. But confusing in terms of identity, starting all dark with jumpy horror and switching half way through to full on Bruce Campbell at his audacious zany best. I reviewed it very early for the blog and this was enough to see it relatively down marked. It's the one review that has always sat heavy on me though. While confident to go against the crowd I couldn't help but notice it's appearance on many greatest zombie film lists, so with more (hopefully) insight with the genre I decided to use this look at Dead Snow 2 as an excuse to watch it again.

I ended up re-rating the film coming to the opinion that while there was still a spot of stylistic schizophrenia, if one was pull the whimsy and humour from the second half into the first rather than what I did last time being disappointed that the tension and fear was so eagerly brushed aside then the film held up far better. Go read my review but it's safe to say I'm now rather fond of the film. Anyway...

What of Dead Snow 2? Well, first off it doesn't make these mistakes. In fact Dead Snow 2 doesn't really make any mistakes at all. Cementing itself purely as a black comedy it continues the manic adventures that concluded Dead Snow, dials it up to max and is quite frankly nigh on perfect, and easily one of the best zombie films ever made. In fact, and I may get some criticism for this, in my opinion it perhaps more perfectly than most also captures the look and feel of Evil Dead since Campbell fought the Army of Darkness than any other film since.

Ørjan Gamst is back as Nazi commander Standartenführer (Oberst) Herzog, a Draugr (aptrganga or aptrgangr transl. again-walker) aka Revenant; an undead creature from Norse mythology up and about to protect his ill-gotten treasure. Except with the Nazi gold reclaimed (Dead Snow), and for a narrative excuse for him to expand his remit from just the barren tundra near Øksfjord, Norway into the town itself, he recalls Hitler's last order to raze the place and its population to the ground in a petty act of revenge for their acts of sabotage some, now seventy years ago.

Cue, death, destruction, blood, intestines, tanks blowing up babies and a general lack of any taste and decency and one of the best laughs I've had in years. Now cut from the shackles of the early part of the first film to at least attempt to stay sensible and rational, Director (and also one of the writers) Tommy WirkolaIt is free to indulge any and all ideas, however absurd or non-canon, and not break the film's overall coherence. Herzog is now the slightly more cognizant, talkative and able commander, the brainless zombie horde under his control has been expanded to include exaggerated comic roles such as a medic, tank driver and navigator, and his opposition have been heavily upgraded from traditional cabin-in-the-woods / Friday 13th sent to die trope.

Vegar Hoel is Martin, sole survivor from the first. Beaten, bloody, and now armed with not just his new found extreme zombie survival skills, but Herzog's arm, is the new Bruce Campbell. Armed with all the same quirks and qualities, though maybe not quite the charm, he's manic, desperate, slightly insane from all he's experienced, and most importantly, he's up for the fight. Switch chainsaw for magic arm, with the ability to raise the dead, he now also has the same iconic tools and mentality to challenge a foe which on first appearance was unchallengeable. Demonstrating real flare, vision and imagination WirkolaIt Martin isn't left alone for the task, soon picking up an assortment of companions, from the Zombie Squad™, three young US geeks with a love of all things Z, an out of his depth, introverted WW2 museum curator and the new Bub, who's bound to be a cult favourite: Sidekick Zombie (Kristoffer Joner). Their interaction is witty, natural, and despite being caricatures, their addition is a welcome addition opening up avenues to daft scenes and jokes that are masterfully taken, while never exploited.

Dead Snow 2 isn't a film, it's more an experience. A riotous explosion of guts, blood and fun; it's perfectly paced, perfectly formed and oozes style and imagination from a director and team that clearly understand how to approach the absurdness and inherent contradiction that lies at the heart of zombie cinema. With never a dull moment, never a distraction WirkolaIt, like Raimi, has managed that illusionist trick of presenting a world and story that is both laughable and preposterous in a way that is both coherent and tangible. Easily one of the top zombie films ever made we also finally have a worthy successor to Campbell, who now surely has entwined himself in such a way as a third without him would feel bereft. Dead Snow 2 is everything you'd want from an absurd splatter horror comedy. It's the best Evil Dead / Dead Alive (Brain Dead) film we've had in quite some time, and it's 10/10.

Steven@WTD.

The Boneyard - review

1991 (USA)

2004 It DVD R(2) 

Contains spoilers.

I'll put my hands straight up. Director / writer James Cummins' 1991 zombie horror yarn is delightful, dark, gory, intimidating and full of tension. The zombies are macabre menacing little shits that make you feel uncomfortable and the set-up that enables them to torment the small disparate group that find themselves stuck in the same cramped isolated morgue is inspired and gripping. It's zombie horror as good as you'd hope for and though maybe it could be accused of being a little ham fisted and cheesy at times, this doesn't detract, in many ways adding to the retro charm. There is the issue of the last twenty minutes though, and I'm still not quite sure exactly what I think of it, though I know I enjoyed myself. On the one hand I've got to applaud Cummins for his audacity and insanity. On the other, I've got to question the decision to turn sinister and brooding into farce and stoopid in such an abrupt and in your face way.

There's a good zombie story. Lt. Jersey Callum (Ed Nelson) and his partner Gordon Mullen (James Eustermann) recruit the reluctant psychic, Alley Oates (Deborah Rose) in help them solve what appears to be the grisly murder of three children found in the cellar of mortician Chen (Robert Yun Ju Ahn). Under questioning Chen tells a fantastical yarn that the children are actually an undead master-race, called the kyoshi, and that he and his ancestors have been protecting mankind by feeding them fresh human flesh keeping them dormant for the last three hundred years. Dismissing the story Jersey, Mullen and Alley head straight off, at night I'll add, to the boneyard (the colloquial name the staff have given to the city morgue) to check the bodies out and see if Alley's special gifts can unravel what's really going on. And wouldn't you just know it Chen just happened to be telling the truth; cue reanimating dead, running, screaming and dying.

Cummins' does a remarkable job establishing a coherent and believable reason for the small band of victims / survivors to find themselves in an inescapable claustrophobic survival / slaughter-box combating the forces of evil. There's no big gaping narrative hole or anyone acting in an overly stupid manner to get themselves in the trouble, as the evil begins to rise one isn't distracted by thoughts of what they should have done. Okay, there's not much sense to Dana (Denise Young) the young suicide who happens to not actually be dead, but the motley assortment of morticians along with the police and psychic make for some interesting dynamics as they seek to stay alive.

Romero zombies these are not. It's possession / reanimation / demons and ancient curses, and the three gnarly putrid little kids are disturbing, quick, smart and terrifying. They can climb, leap, hide and a headshot won't cut it. The make-up and effects team have done a great job with them and whether they're chasing, harrying or playing with their next meal or tucking into a cannibalistic all you can eat spare-rib buffet the young gut munchers are always the uncomfortable star of the show. Someone at some point comments that their weakness is the heart, i.e. vampire, but as they're final deaths come down chemical spills, electric blasts, concentrated bullet fire and being blown sky high I can't confirm; there's also the point that if it's so easy why didn't Chen or his grand-pappy stick a stake in years ago while they were asleep. So maybe a bit vampire, maybe possessed, maybe a bit straightforward zombie, they're evil, they're dead, they're hungry and they're deeply unpleasant.

Okay it's time to address the finale. With twenty minutes to go The Boneyard shifts gear up from fourth to crazy and goes all Dead Alive (Brain Dead) - a year before it I'll add, Resident Evil and super-mutant with some of the most ridiculous prosthetic costumes and animatronics I've seen. Whilst there was a hint things were at some point going to go loopy, with Alley finding loose pipe bombs in the record office and Mullen equipping some kind of experimental machine gun, I wasn't at all prepared for how the kyoshi curse would manifest itself in those infected. Shortly before wilting away into a large pool of green slime, one of the zombie children manages to shove a large handful of its own brains / skin into the mouth of Miss Poopinplatz (Phyllis Diller) the feisty, impudent morgue receptionist. At first it's groans, fever and decidedly looking a bit peaky, but minutes later it's eight foot prosthetic madness, large bulbous eyes and not only cackling laughter from her, but raucous bellows from myself.

As said, up till now it was tense survival horror and suddenly here was a large daft boss fight and a wholly unrealistic model flailing its long arms at all and sundry. I'm not sure whether there were doubts at whether the taut atmosphere would make the distance, whether there was suddenly a budget for more special effects or whether it was all meticulously planned but the result is a change in direction that takes your breath away. Also it's just the beginning as now firmly down the rabbit hole Cummins has only one place to go, turning his attention to Miss Poopinplatz's yappy little poodle and some scenes that will never leave me.

My wife commented once that she really doesn't like horror with children in and I can understand her disquiet. The zombie kids are disturbing, wholly unnatural and thus a brilliant construct, brutally realised. The survival horror sequences are a delight; scenes are well-constructed, well-shot and believably acted by people who bring authenticity to proceedings by not standing out. The action flows effortlessly from one scene to the next, everything feels cohesive and the film is thoroughly absorbing. The crazy prosthetic super mutant zombie climax is what it is. I can't say whether the film would have been better or worse if it hadn't decided to take such a left turn, all I can say is when it does it's a hoot. None of it makes any sense, the action is audaciously stupid and inexplicable but it's god damn entertaining. A zombie horror riot both despite, and because, of twelve foot zombie poodles, 8/10.

Steven@WTD.