Zombi Child blends voodoo, boarding school, pretty women, and some sort of avant-garde horror into a daub of mediocrity, painting in broad, superficial strokes that look pretty but ultimately amount to nothing of value. It tells two disconnected stories (or at least, that's what writer/director Bertrand Bonello wants you to think): one of a reanimated man forced to work in sugar plantations, and another of a young, high-school girl trying to fit into boarding school while pining for her boyfriend. The film lacks any tension, dramatic or otherwise; although being touted as a horror film it lacks suspense; and it lacks an engaging storyline and characters, making the almost two-hour film really feel its runtime.
Zombi Child suffers from various problems, although not all at once. It starts off promising, setting up the two storylines quite well with vivid imagery and fantastic cinematography. Almost immediately after, however, the endgame becomes painfully obvious and the rest of the film is merely a slog to that point, watching teen girls be angsty and sighing while speaking to each other in hushed tones under muted sepia lights. The writing is painfully lacklustre, with dialogue woefully inadequate and characters chewing the scenery more than anything else at any given time. Lack of dialogue doesn't bother me; after all, Beanpole does a fantastic job with sparse dialogue; however, the sparse dialogue in Zombi Child, designed to come off as artistic, only presents itself as shallow and vapid.
Unlike The Wave, however, Zombi Child is not a complete loss of cinema. The film works best when it completely gives itself up to the legend, with the mysterious, occult scenes where voodoo is performed a highlight in cinematography. The acting is brilliant: both women (Louise Labeque and Wislanda Louimat) perform admirably in the spotlight, doing the best with what they're given: Labeque playing the vapid, love-lorn teenager filled with angst and hormones, and Louimat playing what appears to be the only person of colour in the film.
The final third of the movie is its saving grace, with beautiful cinematography and displays of Haitian (or is it voodoo?) culture that almost make the slog through the first two-thirds worth it.
Zombi Child could have been so much more if it had focussed its attentions on the tale it was trying to tell. It wastes its time talking high-school romance and pining for faraway lovers, when it could have been trying to build interest and suspense. It also might have helped if we, the audience, weren't aware of how things were going to turn out in the first ten minutes or so. In fact, it might have been better if Zombi Child had been two movies: one exploring the life of a man returned from the grave and forced into slavery, and one where a young woman does everything in her power to keep herself together after her love falls apart.
Instead, what we have is two halves of slightly under-baked pies struggling to be one. I mean, I'd eat it, but I think I'd enjoy it a lot more if it had been something else. At least it looks pretty.
Zombi Child suffers from various problems, although not all at once. It starts off promising, setting up the two storylines quite well with vivid imagery and fantastic cinematography. Almost immediately after, however, the endgame becomes painfully obvious and the rest of the film is merely a slog to that point, watching teen girls be angsty and sighing while speaking to each other in hushed tones under muted sepia lights. The writing is painfully lacklustre, with dialogue woefully inadequate and characters chewing the scenery more than anything else at any given time. Lack of dialogue doesn't bother me; after all, Beanpole does a fantastic job with sparse dialogue; however, the sparse dialogue in Zombi Child, designed to come off as artistic, only presents itself as shallow and vapid.
Unlike The Wave, however, Zombi Child is not a complete loss of cinema. The film works best when it completely gives itself up to the legend, with the mysterious, occult scenes where voodoo is performed a highlight in cinematography. The acting is brilliant: both women (Louise Labeque and Wislanda Louimat) perform admirably in the spotlight, doing the best with what they're given: Labeque playing the vapid, love-lorn teenager filled with angst and hormones, and Louimat playing what appears to be the only person of colour in the film.
The final third of the movie is its saving grace, with beautiful cinematography and displays of Haitian (or is it voodoo?) culture that almost make the slog through the first two-thirds worth it.
Zombi Child could have been so much more if it had focussed its attentions on the tale it was trying to tell. It wastes its time talking high-school romance and pining for faraway lovers, when it could have been trying to build interest and suspense. It also might have helped if we, the audience, weren't aware of how things were going to turn out in the first ten minutes or so. In fact, it might have been better if Zombi Child had been two movies: one exploring the life of a man returned from the grave and forced into slavery, and one where a young woman does everything in her power to keep herself together after her love falls apart.
Instead, what we have is two halves of slightly under-baked pies struggling to be one. I mean, I'd eat it, but I think I'd enjoy it a lot more if it had been something else. At least it looks pretty.