From past reviews, you would notice that two of the last three were about zombies.  I have no idea why that’s the case, but we may as well go with it.  After this review, it will be three out of four.  I do find myself now categorizing zombie films specific to the types of zombies and the perspective of the main characters.  Dead Snow (Død snø) is a film that encompasses everything that is right with film.  On a scholarly level it is a self aware film that revels in its homages to the genre.  On an entirely different level, holy shit it has Nazi zombies, hot chicks, and an intestine fetish. The plot is fairly easy to describe, group of thirty-somethings go for vacation in an isolate snowy area that is being patrolled by undead zombies.  Hilarity ensues.  The group is made up of grad students on vacation, except Sara (Ane Dahl Torp) who decides to ski to the cabin rather than ride in a car along with the rest of them.  I guess skiing to the vacation destination makes sense in the context of location, but I knew she was dead from the start.  The rest act like grad students on vacation with some alcohol and bad jokes.  We learn from a gruff traveler Hertzog (Ørjan Gamst), that the area was home to evil Nazis that stole and killed the people and then ran to the hills after the war to hide their spoils.  No one saw them again, except there have been reports of those Nazis still roaming the woods.  I’m really not sure what else you would need to know except that the hottest actress (Jenny Skavlan) in the film has sex with the overweight film geek in an outhouse right after he has announced to the group how big a shit he has to take.  Mild disgust to involuntary gagging should be overtaking you at this point.  However, it’s the little things like this that make Dead Snow such a fun film to watch. How in the hell is sex in an outhouse reflective of a fun film?  Mainly because it demonstrates the key factor in making Dead Snow worthwhile, it is self-aware.  While not a parody or even satire, the film recognizes that zombie and horror films have been using the same conventions over and over again.  Why not take those conventions and simply announce that the film will be following them while still playing around a bit.  In the vein of such films as the Evil Dead films, the humor comes from the tweaking of those conventions rather than anything being funny.  When the group first treks to the mountain cabin, the film geek Erland (Jeppe Beck Laursen) wonders just how many horror films begin with a group of people going to an isolate cabin.  Erland provides even more film references and quotes throughout the film, which are typically timely and add to the humor of a particular scene.  The film is not funny because it tries to be funny, it’s humorous because of the slight variations of conventions.  It does play like a straight horror film, but the self-aware nature creates a multi-layered romp through the zombie genre. Then there is the obsession with intestines.  Dead Snow is certainly not for the weak of stomach.  While you are given the typical gore of a zombie film, you are also given so much more.  The end of the film is an entire smorgasbord of ways to kill zombies and cause as much blood to spread as possible.  Cut-off hand and various impalements later, the snow becomes a blank canvas for the Jackson Pollock-esque blood splatter.  No problem you say, I can handle blood and gore.  How about various scenes that involve the repeated focus on intestines.  How about catching your intestines on a tree branch?  Ever use an intestines as a climbing rope?  Motif, yes.  Disturbing repetition of intestines, hell yes.  We even get a discussion on how you can be alive and still watch your intestines being ripped out.  Which then actually happens.  I’m not sure if you can have your intestines ache, but I certainly am now more aware of the possible ways in which intestines could get me killed or saved. Dead Snow gives viewers a fun trip into zombie filled woods where intestines abound and conventions become vehicles for humor.  While not being a particularly great film, it does vault itself beyond a bad film.  Or is it that the film is trying to be bad and therefore becomes a very good postmodern zombie film?  I think I will leave that up to you.  If you like zombie films (which apparently I do since I have now began classifying sub-genres of zombie films), you will find this fun and a less than serious stab at the genre.  If you do not like zombie films, go watch something else.  Not only will you be disturbed by the many uses for the intestines, the self-awareness will not make much sense.  Director Tommy Wirkola demonstrates his love of film and his ability to create a film that really could have been just another zombie film and takes it one step further.  He even names a character Hertzog, but that  in itself demonstrates why my enthusiasm for this film is a bit tarnished.  The same thing that makes the film watchable (being self-aware), can certainly come off as a bit of the egotistical film geek making a film vibe.  Future films by Wirkola will certainly prove which it actually was.

Pontypool is not so much a zombie film as it is a film about zombies, or at least some horrific equivalent.  I want to first start by saying that at no point did this film actually scare me.  If I based my review on this simple fact, it would fall into the category of horror films that suck because they do not scare you.  However, it’s not really a horror film just like it’s not really a zombie film.  This independent production takes the vantage point of characters that never really get into the full blown mix of a traditional zombie film.  This unique perspective allows the film to shine by demonstrating that if zombies were indeed walking the earth, there will be people not directly in the line of fire.  That’s not to say this film does not feature some direct relations between survivors and zombies (I need a better word than that since they are not your typical zombies).  Pontypool provides the viewer with tension and thrills, but also some quirkiness that elevates the film above B-movie. The basic story revolves around newly hired radio DJ Grant Mazzy (Stephen McHattie) that has found himself in the doldrums of winter while still trying to bring his fierce anti-persona to the airwaves.  He assisted by his smart yet vulnerable producer Sydney Briar (Lisa Houle) and his young just back from military duty technician Laurel-Ann Drummond (Georgina Reilly).  What begins as a simple day of weather related closings and community interviews (Lawrence of Arabia as a musical anyone?) turns into a potential world threatening cataclysm.  That is, if it’s not a hoax as Mazzy believes.  That hoax is quickly dispatched as the reality comes flooding in from first hand accounts and government involvement.  The twist is that these “zombies” are not zombies in the traditional sense.  Before you read the next paragraph, I am going to reveal a few plot points that may ruin the film for you.  So stop reading now and join us later in the review. The zombies are created by language and feed off other humans to find another host for what I can only describe as a word virus.  Dr. Mendez (Hrant Alianak) describes this in the film as becoming infected when you truly understand a word, hence the zombies being attracted to people talking and their continued repetition of words.  In fact, you know someone is infected when they begin repeating a word.  Scary concept, yet made less effectual by the virus only working for the English language.  Had this film been aiming at a serious plot, I’m quite sure it would have been a bi-lingual virus at the least.  However, English virus it is.  The reason for English is never explained, but I would think it is either due to the fact that it came from a secret MLA test facility created by Grammar Nazis or someone has a big problem with English.  You do just have to overlook this in the film, but it did give me a bit of a setback for my enjoyment.  I kept thinking about Neal Stephenson’s Snow Crash and how you can truly make words a virus.  While not a blockade to making Pontypool a good film, it did give me that feeling that the film missed a chance. At this point, you can rejoin our discussion. Pontypool had set itself up to linger in a B-movie hell, but then it rose from the ashes by providing viewers with acting and direction that elevates the film to almost A-movie material.  The characters of Grant Mazzy (Stephen McHattie) and Sydney Briar (Lisa Houle) work well to create a quirky and meaningful performance.  McHattie has the look of a man that has been around the block a few times (the cowboy certainly should remind you of another radio host).  His grouchy old man act gives the audience a great opportunity to experience the magic of casting.  Other actors may have run with the fear or desolation angle, but McHattie gives us the crazy element that opens the door for humor and seriousness.  Houle’s performance may not be wonderful on her own; but as a contrast to McHattie, she works well in providing his character with the needed grounding. All of the characters work because director Bruce McDonald forces them into a bubble.  The confining nature of the actual set and his cinematography isolates them, eventually allowing the viewer to experience the zombie phenomenon on a personal level.  I was surprised that we are really never shown anything beyond the studio (church basement).  However, it works to enhance would could have been a simple slash and gash zombie chase.  It served as the winter prison where emotions and actions become desperate. Pontypool never takes the viewer to the battlefield, only offering side notes to the greater story.  Yet, that’s what makes the film stand out from other films of this nature.  We are able to experience another side to your typical zombie film.  A side where helicopter weathermen drive station wagons and kill can mean kiss.  I found that Pontypool is entertaining and quirky, but that it will perhaps stay in a niche category.  Fans of zombie or horror  films may be disappointed, but this small little film does provide an entertaining experience.

Aside from the fact that Zombieland is a brilliant film that works on so many levels (mostly different levels of humor rather than meaning), it made me want Twinkies.  I now have an unquenchable desire to eat Twinkies, even though I despise Twinkies.  Even before I go into a review of this film, I [...]