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May 12, 2007

1160: Not dead, just hungry for brains.

Apologies for the lack of updates yesterday -- interweb issues, you know how it is. I can't say that my mood has improved considerably since my last post, but I can say that this is helped...

Naturally.*

So has seeing 28 Weeks Later, which I was initially a little wary about seeing on account of the sour taste 28 Days Later left in my movie-loving mouth. On a whim, Pete and I opted to see it on opening night and unwittingly found ourselves surrounded by zombie enthusiasts. Fair enough. I've nothing against being a fan of something and I can totally understand going all-out for something you love, but, well, I didn't quite understand going all-out in the way these fans were. Here's a photo, featured on Gothamist, of some of the fans seated in our showing of 28 Weeks Later.

We first noticed them milling around in Union Square. Unable to get into see the showing of Spiderman 3 we wanted to see, we headed up to the north side of the park to see what else was playing in the neighborhood. Our path took us through a sizable crowd of people covered in fake blood and zombie costumes of varying success. (The girl in the above photo did, by the way, eventually put on a skirt. That she walked around in a thong and skank boots was unappealing in and of itself, but the idea of her sitting bare-butt on a never-cleaned movie theater seat makes my stomach turn faster than a zombiefied Robert Carlyle can run.) To some, there seemed to be a little confusion between "Mall Goth" and "Zombie" but I digress...

As we headed into the theater, following a little dinner, we found ourselves seated among the zombie-fans we'd seen in the park. More than a few plump Mall Goth princesses-of-the-night paraded up and down the aisle in their Hot Topic best as if gracefully weathering the stresses of hosting such an event, huffing and craning their chubby necks in an effort to be sure that boy they liked would finally arrive. He did, and he came dressed as The Crow, obviously -- but because this was a zombie movie, he added some red food coloring and corn syrup to the corner of his mouth. Of course, I'm writing from the dubious Goth-snob height of someone low enough to be snobby about this kind of thing, but whatever. Snob, yes, but look at what I'm being snobby about, folks. Come on.

Anyway.

The teenyboppers held court in the theater while I smirked, safe in the knowledge that because I wasn't wearing the prescribed and stereotyped uniform of a Goth Squad misfit, I could slip among them undetected; slithering around their inferior, blister-causing boots before screeching "BAUHAUS!" and sinking my aged Old Skool fangs right into their baby-bat fat. Actually, one girl showed up in a self-made Columbia costume, which I kind of enjoyed until it seemed she would keep that sparkling hat on throughout the film (she didn't). See -- I'm not all bad. I'm just 1337!

Just before the lights went down and we were shown trailers for -- among other things -- Transformers (yes!), one of the girls seated in front of us giggled to her friend, "Let's root for the zombies!" Pete and I winced.

Rooting for the zombies would seem like a totally obvious thing to do in most zombie movies, where zombies are stand-ins for, duh, mindless people. In those instances, they're scripted to do unintentionally humorous things or ordinary things made humorous by virtue of the fact that the people doing those things are zombies. That zombies mill about malls like overwhelmed, spending-fatigued shoppers is for yuks -- but there aren't any of those zombies in this particular zombie franchise. These zombies aren't funny in the least -- they're horrifying! They're like ravenous animals, running at insane speeds and offering absolutely no opportunity for escape. What's more, they seem to be in complete agony all the while. They're not, as many people in the audience seemed inclined to believe, prone to drooling and muttering "Braaaaaains!" They just want to rip you to shreds like cracked-out hyenas; they hiss, vomit blood, and shriek like eagles! There's nothing funny about these zombies!

That more than one person thought to yell "Braaaaaains!" before or during the movie (no one shouted it after someone from the other side of the room finally yelled, "SHUT UP!") was a little astounding. Some people love zombie movies -- I totally respect that, in fact, some of you lovely people love zombie movies. I wouldn't say that they're my favorite horror sub-genre, but I do like them and I totally understand the appeal. I think for Pete and me, the appeal lies in what L'Amoeba Incredible accurately described as being "survivalist." We like the against-all-(horrifying)-odds plight of the hero more than we like watching people's intestines being ripped out and consumed (although that has its own sick appeal). 28 Days Later, before it went to poop, was that sort of movie and 28 Weeks Later definitely is -- and I don't believe either ever aspired to be a straight-up, "Ha ha! Did you see that? Zombies are dumb, bro!" kind of movie.

Needless to say, as soon as the zombies showed up, there was no "rooting" to speak of; there was no Darth Vader moment where people like me applaud the film's villain announcing that he expects Mr. Bond to die. I like the villains. Hell, I love the villains. But the zombies in 28 Weeks Later are not the kinds of villains you can love -- they're not really villains at all. They're "infected" people, robbed of their humanity by a virus which seems to inflict a crazy amount of pain on each and every one of them. The mood of the audience, which had been giddy with each pre-show "Braaaaaains!" zombie groan, quickly snapped into one of collective fright and revulsion. This is a nasty movie! There were a few laughs, but not quite the laughs that many people in the audience seemed to anticipate. Did they not see 28 Days Later?

Despite our initial hesitation, Pete and I really liked this film. To say that it had some plot problems would be an understatement but as with most movies of this type, you have to forgive those issues, which is easy to do when the rest of the film rewards that forgiveness with out-and-out gore. In all fairness, I may not be able to excuse poor eyeliner application but I can excuse all kinds of plot issues in a movie I've already decided to enjoy. Pete likes to talk about the time Chris asked me to rate a movie on "a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being V for Vendetta." 28 Weeks Later has some big problems, which I won't blurt out here for fear of ruining anything about the movie for those of you who haven't seen it yet, but overall, I enjoyed it and we had a good time. And who knew that 2007 would be the year that so many zombies would get cut down by helicopter blades? (Do you think anyone involved with 28 Weeks Later saw Grindhouse and thought, "Doh!"?)

* And do you ever wish White Zombie would get back together? I do. Maybe I'll wish for that when I blow out my candles next week. Cross your zombie-loving, go-go girl fingers!

Posted by ashley at May 12, 2007 08:19 PM

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