I admit it. I had it in for this film early on. No, not because it's a remake of the Romero zombie flick. The words "A Steve Miner Film" popped up on the screen, and I was tempted to switch the movie off right then and there. With the exception of Warlock, the guy has basically directed the same horror film for 20 years. Then my misplaced optimism kicked in, "Give him another chance. You've found some gems in unlikely places. After all, you hated Romero's Day up until the very end when it blasted you with genius and completely reversed your opinion." Okay, okay, fine.
And so the film opens with two young couples making out in some backwoods cabin not unlike the trademarks of some other movies Steve Miner has directed. You might have heard of them. They're called "Friday the 13th parts 2 and 3." Zombies meet cheesy 80s slasher clichés? Uh, huh. At this point I banged my head against my laptop's keyboard and muttered, "I hate being right." Again, the temptation to axe the Netflix stream beckoned for me. The movie has made its thesis statement it's declared it's intentions and it's planning on indulging in my pet peeves within the genre.
Turn it off, Jay! Make everyone happy! Why, oh why, keep watching a movie you know you'll hate? Answer: sometimes in genre crap you find something special. Like Sleepaway Camp 2, April Fool's Day, and Wolf Creek. Optimism must prevail ... even if I am a pessimist.
Thus, I descended into a small town on the brink of a zombie epidemic. A long line of cars await at a blockade, trying to escape a quarantine. Many people have fallen ill, an ominous sign in this genre. A few wandering corpses litter the forest and dark alleys. But the full blown undead outbreak has yet to occur, and I couldn't help but wonder, "why not take a cue from Romero, and just start the movie post-zombie apocalypse?" I mean, what part of discovering a zombie infestation is still interesting? Nevermind.
We meet Sarah, played by the petite Mena Suvari whose acting ability might be able to convince us this blond bright eyed woman has not only been through boot camp but is a commanding officer if only the script didn't undermine her performance with lines that suggest she's a still a little girl in high school. Then there's Nick Canon, whose acting talent has no prayer of convincing us that he would have survived basic training with his "gangsta bad self" attitude. Nick, I hope the zombie of Lucio Fulci bites your testicles off and eats them. Don't worry, though, you'll have company because the staple dorky white vegetarian played by Stark Sands really needs a violent castration too.
But what am I saying? That would be creative gore. It's not like a movie like this would have the balls to oh wow, a zombie just ate his own eye. Huh. Okay, maybe an appropriate gruesome end will befall them after all.
Films of these nature require at least one scene of utter undead chaos, and Day of the Dead sets up the bulk of its carnage in a hospital where all the zombies-to-be have congregated. As the mayhem revved up and zombies went wild on the survivors with the frenzied intensity of an epileptic seizure enhanced by an LCD overdose, I couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblances to the genre crap parodied by Robert Rodriguez's half of the GrindHouse doublebill. Then it struck me: this movie would be an absolute blast if it had a sense of humor. What's that? A vegetarian Zombie? Right. Give me sec so I can revise my previous statement: "this movie would be an absolute blast if it had a *good* sense of humor." (and a chick with a gun for a leg couldn't hurt either.)
For the climax of the film, the leftover fodder descend into an underground lab for the obligatory explanation behind the current situation. Cool. Now I know a scientific experiment went awry causing all this chaos. Thanks. But, I don't suppose there's also an explanation as to how this lab can go unnoticed under a seemingly secluded building in the middle of the woods where kids dare each other to enter so they can spy on big brother and his girlfriend who come here for sex all the time.
Believe it or not, there is such a thing as being an optimistic pessimist someone who continues to watch out of hope while knowing it's only a matter of time before Super Zombie shows up to do battle with the hormonal Veggie-burger Zombie. Of course, you probably know us optimistic pessimists by our more common title: morons.
And so the film opens with two young couples making out in some backwoods cabin not unlike the trademarks of some other movies Steve Miner has directed. You might have heard of them. They're called "Friday the 13th parts 2 and 3." Zombies meet cheesy 80s slasher clichés? Uh, huh. At this point I banged my head against my laptop's keyboard and muttered, "I hate being right." Again, the temptation to axe the Netflix stream beckoned for me. The movie has made its thesis statement it's declared it's intentions and it's planning on indulging in my pet peeves within the genre.
Turn it off, Jay! Make everyone happy! Why, oh why, keep watching a movie you know you'll hate? Answer: sometimes in genre crap you find something special. Like Sleepaway Camp 2, April Fool's Day, and Wolf Creek. Optimism must prevail ... even if I am a pessimist.
Thus, I descended into a small town on the brink of a zombie epidemic. A long line of cars await at a blockade, trying to escape a quarantine. Many people have fallen ill, an ominous sign in this genre. A few wandering corpses litter the forest and dark alleys. But the full blown undead outbreak has yet to occur, and I couldn't help but wonder, "why not take a cue from Romero, and just start the movie post-zombie apocalypse?" I mean, what part of discovering a zombie infestation is still interesting? Nevermind.
We meet Sarah, played by the petite Mena Suvari whose acting ability might be able to convince us this blond bright eyed woman has not only been through boot camp but is a commanding officer if only the script didn't undermine her performance with lines that suggest she's a still a little girl in high school. Then there's Nick Canon, whose acting talent has no prayer of convincing us that he would have survived basic training with his "gangsta bad self" attitude. Nick, I hope the zombie of Lucio Fulci bites your testicles off and eats them. Don't worry, though, you'll have company because the staple dorky white vegetarian played by Stark Sands really needs a violent castration too.
But what am I saying? That would be creative gore. It's not like a movie like this would have the balls to oh wow, a zombie just ate his own eye. Huh. Okay, maybe an appropriate gruesome end will befall them after all.
Films of these nature require at least one scene of utter undead chaos, and Day of the Dead sets up the bulk of its carnage in a hospital where all the zombies-to-be have congregated. As the mayhem revved up and zombies went wild on the survivors with the frenzied intensity of an epileptic seizure enhanced by an LCD overdose, I couldn't help but notice the uncanny resemblances to the genre crap parodied by Robert Rodriguez's half of the GrindHouse doublebill. Then it struck me: this movie would be an absolute blast if it had a sense of humor. What's that? A vegetarian Zombie? Right. Give me sec so I can revise my previous statement: "this movie would be an absolute blast if it had a *good* sense of humor." (and a chick with a gun for a leg couldn't hurt either.)
For the climax of the film, the leftover fodder descend into an underground lab for the obligatory explanation behind the current situation. Cool. Now I know a scientific experiment went awry causing all this chaos. Thanks. But, I don't suppose there's also an explanation as to how this lab can go unnoticed under a seemingly secluded building in the middle of the woods where kids dare each other to enter so they can spy on big brother and his girlfriend who come here for sex all the time.
Believe it or not, there is such a thing as being an optimistic pessimist someone who continues to watch out of hope while knowing it's only a matter of time before Super Zombie shows up to do battle with the hormonal Veggie-burger Zombie. Of course, you probably know us optimistic pessimists by our more common title: morons.