Return of the Living Dead is now and always will be patently the most explodingly brilliant survival horror comedy since I can’t recall, largely because when I’m thinking about this movie all other silly comedy splatter spoofs looks like cheap plastic replicas.
ROTLD takes viciously wild punches at most all of the standard clichéd tools used in horrific monster movies, especially those featuring flimsy teen characters prone to vice. Those wacky teenagers, an endlessly excitable bunch prone to poor decisions and quick retribution. Meanwhile every character in Return of the Living Dead lacks all motivation outside the single goal of self satisfaction — sex, drugs, violence — shortly followed by self preservation. One exception: a particularly strange punk rocker played by Thom Mathews (Freddy). Pretty much the youthful protagonist of Dan O’Bannon‘s undead melodrama — the suddenly sympathetic Fred has to deal with a world of occult flesh eaters, government cover-ups and the desires of his recent girlfriend…all this on his first day at work.
Freddy still reveals himself as slightly dumber than a box of hammers, or maybe a bowl of screwdrivers. Whatever simple machine in a container, our friend Freddy ain’t smart and neither is his friendly superior (Frank) played by Clu Gulager. Their combined stupidity is exponential and ever-expanding, especially with the introduction of Frank’s boss (Burt) a selfish dick played by the always intimidating James Karen.
Half of the movie involves these stooges try their best to maintain composure while every piece of death flesh around them comes back to life, a distracting challenge when you work in a medical supply warehouse, next to a morgue…outside a cemetery.
Our friend Freddy is persecuted, not only by his punk pals, each of them pained by reality’s lack of chaos and sententious pleasures. Even though they’re technically protagonists, you pretty much delight when the punks get attacked by the viral zombie contagion, brewed by our rather incompetent military.
Consider this — our primary fear in the 20th century…you know it. Total nuclear oblivion. The final end of human life, the trigger pulled by a willing human hand. Grab your book, El, because the zombie weapon of self destruct was inspired by plagues…AIDS, small pox, Ebola virus, etc. Something about rapid decay. Our nightmare monster shrunk from the size of King Kong to the nanometer scale. In ROTLD our antagonist originates in a spray of weaponized gas created by the corrupt military industrial complex for which we, the uneducated voting public, are responsible. The best part of all this biting commentary is that the audience sees no heavy hand, just solid comedy and gore.
I saw this one during a Fantastic Fest 2010 pre-show at the Alamo Drafthouse. Simple stop-motion is sometimes so perfect. Z-props to the meticulous artist David King who did it one frame at a time (sexy) in the minimalist short animation ZZZZOMBIES.
Like whoa! Some talented nerd(s) used the software render engine from the video game Left 4 Dead and built out a complete level using my favorite movie theater as a playable map. Even the neighborhood karaoke bar Highball gets rendered in 3D, although I’m not sure how one plays bowling or skeeball with gun drawn.
If you don’t know, let me inform you. The Alamo Drafthouse is the best thing that ever happened to a movie nerd living in Austin, Texas. They schedule the rarest horror flicks with crazy pre-shows and intros from some of the most knowledgeable film experts on the block (which is really saying something in Austin). Obviously, the Alamo is run by true exploitation film fanatics, which is why every year the Alamo Drafthouse puts on the best damn film festival I’ve ever attended — an all genre movie explosion called Fantastic Fest. Nothing but gore, nudity and tantalizingly offensive cinema.
So what’s my beef with narrow interpretation of what qualifies for the zed word?
Haitian Voodoo Zombie: A spicy mix of whip-your-ass missionary technology and several different flavors of indigenous Latin/African religions. They don’t eat your brains but will labor endlessly for the benefit of their master(s). These O.Z. voodoo zombies can carry out complex tasks at the beckoning call. Seriously, you can get these zombies to wash your dirty undies and sell Amway to your neighbors.
Modern Cannibal Zombies: Quite different from the O.Z. (original zombies). These dead predators tend to become overwhelmed with the munchies for human intestines, brains, spleen, etc. Far less intelligent than his voodoo cousin, the modern zombie wanders aimlessly much like an awakened mummy.
Whether your zombie literature of choice dates back to religious mysticism or government-sponsored bioterrism, all zombies are weaponized with eternal existence and a powerful drive to live that most of us shabby humans can only afford after several cups of strong coffee.
Mummy types lay at rest under sand and large sculpture art. Zombie types ponder their dinner 6 feet deep in clay soil with a gravestone atop their heads. If the multitude of literary zombie myths adhere to the consistently singular premise of the medically deceased returning to a quasi-living state, then unequivocally, mummies and zombies exist in the same genus.
Stop hatin’ on my wrapped peeps! Mummies are zombies, too.
HURRAY! The rabid zombie-obsessed community has taken to the streets with public zombie art.
I suppose it was inevitable, as most of us humans generally get stuck on ever-anxious fantasies of death & questions of the afterlife. Modern zombism possibly seems like an ugly god fearing christian wet dream for those left behind…or maybe a purgatory (what with the catholic guilt involved with eating your family and friends).
Therefore, the constant obsession over dealing with “real live” zombies has pushed some of us have taken to stencils & wheat paste. Graffiti aka public art is hittin’ yo’ hood, block, street, gated community or whateva. Keep up the good work, deviant artists!
Whether your zombie literature of choice dates back to religious mysticism or government-sponsored bioterrism, all zombies are weaponized with eternal existence and a powerful drive to live that most of us shabby humans can only afford after several cups of strong coffee.
