DAY 199--ZEDER

Often described as a "thinking man's zombie film" (usually with an air of condescension, as if people who think are above living-dead fare), ZEDER is an atmospheric and frequently unnerving film, though I don't know if it'd ever give one's intellect a workout. This 1983 Italian production from Pupi Avati takes a scientific and mystery-oriented approach to the zombie tale--which had to've confounded early '80s audiences expecting the typical gut-munching extravaganza.

The film's prologue suggests either an EXORCIST or POLTERGEIST rip-off, with its undercurrent of unexplainable occurances, before shifting into giallo mode as a masked killer strikes down a frightened old woman. It turns out to be nothing of any of these as the main storyline takes over. A writer (Lino Capolicchio) discovers a secret within the ribbon of a second-hand typewriter, leading him on a quest in which he discovers K-zones, mysterious pockets of earth which defy the laws of aging and death, and can restore the dead to life if the deceased are buried there. Capolicchio also stumbles upon a French scientific group attempting to resurrect a long-dead priest.

While its focus on ambience over bloodletting is admirable--Avati earns points for his use of muted photography and Riz Ortolani score--ZEDER's mystery angle is poorly defined, making it difficult to tell exactly what's going on and how everything relates. The climax is an impressive display of Gothic-styled horror, and makes up for some of the more obtuse aspects of the narrative.

Many have mentioned this film's resemblance to Stephen King's novel PET SEMATARY (i.e. a story about a burial site that returns the dead to life), and both book and movie ends with a husband reviving his wife with disastrous results, but to imply that one has plagiarized the other is preposterous. Though both were released in 1983, Avati filmed ZEDER the year before, and King had written PET SEMATARY largely in 1979 (publishing it with great reluctance, and then only to free up a royalty dispute). Their similarity, while remarkable, is merely coincidence.

(Special thanks to Donna Williams for providing a copy of this film.)

DAY 198--SABBATH

Perhaps it was the particularly strong afterglow I still had from SARS WARS going in to SABBATH, but I was fully prepared to give this 2005 shot-on-video feature from director William Victor Schotten a good review. A zombie film with a truly apocalyptic scenario--we're talking Book of Revelations apocalyptic--and ambition on both a visual and story level, I had pretty high hopes that this would be that elusive diamond in the rough. However, my good will started to evaporate around the fifteen-minute mark, as SABBATH's numerous flaws came to the fore.

A solitary woman, a minister, a pair of brain-dead brothers, and a criminal band together when the living dead start roaming the earth. The earlier scenes of this premise are the most effective, as each individual character starts out--for the most part--on their own. Schotten captures the uneasy tension lying just beneath the bucolic surface of his setting, and by using very little dialogue he almost achieves a surreal quality for the first part of the film; however, any trance-like mood the long takes and repetitive score might have built is broken by too many moments of cheap gore, and by the time the characters have bunkered together in a rural farmhouse it becomes NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD Variation #258.

The zombies aren't the characters' only problem, as they're visited by shadowy demonic forces and the Grim Reaper hisownself, though what any of it has to do with the main plot, I have no idea, but it has to do with the last soul entering Heaven and the first sinner being shut out of Hell . . . which I assume is bad. Though they certainly elevate SABBATH beyond a mere Romero rehash, these additional elements don't really work. The Reaper in particular fails to generate any sense of fear or awe, probably because of the cherubic face poking out beneath the hood. The demons, on the other hand, are obviously guys in black leotards slithering around on their bellies, but there are a couple of moments--within their first couple of scenes--where they're very much an unsettling presence (check out the scene in which the minister delivers his backstory monologue, that's some damn creepy stuff). Schotten unfortunately doesn't keep them on the sidelines enough and their disturbing power soon wears thin, until they've got as little impact as the stock zombies approaching the house.

Missteps like these keep SABBATH from reaching its frightening potential. Also hampering it are a cast littered with idiots and bad actors who can't deliver their lines without mumbling. When the climax has characters wrestling with zombies as cheesy death metal blares on the soundtrack, any hopes for SABBATH being a serious, intelligent film go right out the window.

There's something especially painful about a film that toys with your expectations, promising to be an undiscovered gem but in reality is just the same old schlock. SABBATH belongs in that category, another squandering of talent and skill taking up valuable space on video shelves.

DAY 197--SARS WARS: BANGKOK ZOMBIE CRISIS

I've never understood people who need to get high in order to enjoy a movie. Sure, I can see firing one up before a Cheech and Chong marathon to get in the right frame of mind, but for the life of me I don't get those who can't sit down to watch films--particularly horror or science fiction/fantasy films--without a proper buzz. Maybe it's a lack of imaginative capabilities on their part, but why would you spend good money on drugs when there are movies like SARS WARS: BANGKOK ZOMBIE CRISIS which do all the work for you.

A supremely delirious action/horror/comedy with a generous dollop of romance, this 2004 Thai film comes from the feverish mind of director Taweewat Wantha (who recently followed up this film with something called THE SPERM--Lord, I can't wait to see that). A movie this chaotic defies a mere synopsis--think a everything-but-the-kitchen-sink plot like WILD ZERO filtered through influences such as Peter Jackson's BRAINDEAD, David Cronenberg's SHIVERS, and the films of Stephen Chow and, naturally, George Romero--so let's just say it takes a distinctly non-traditional approach to some of the standard elements of the zombie genre.

A mutated strain of the deadly Sars virus travels from Africa by a poorly-rendered CGI mosquito (all of the digital effects here are pretty lousy, saved only by the picture's anything-goes mentality) to Bangkok, immediately turning those infected into snarling, flesh-hungry zombies. A ruthless FEMA-like agency quarantines them in a downtown high-rise, where earnest young warrior Khun Krabii (Supakorn Kitsuwon) and his master (Suthep Po-ngam) are trying to rescue a kidnapped girl named Liu (the relentlessly adorable Phintusuda Tunphairao) from the clutches of a criminal gang.

And that, my friends, is just the set-up. The thugs responsible for Liu's kidnapping would make for an entertaining flick on their own--a colorful bunch with a, shall we say, flexible grip on their sexuality (their mastermind even sends the most homoerotic ransom demand in cinematic history)--but Wantha keeps throwing in Thai drag queens, coercion by tickling, even an enormous digital snake, until your mind threatens to boggle. Though not every joke works, and some of the humor may not translate well to these shores, but there's some extremely hilarious moments here--an inspired bullet ricochet in a crowded elevator, the master's lightsaber-ish sword that needs fresh batteries, and a vengeful CGI fetus are definite highlights (I haven't laughed this hard at a movie--at least, a movie where I was supposed to--in quite some time).

The problem with such a creatively erratic first act is that the action tends to peak too soon, leaving the film to lull a bit during its midsection; here is where Khun Krabii and Liu explore their feelings, leading to one of the most hilariously inappropriate lovemaking scenes in recent memory (Wantha pulls a fast one, playing the scene straight, with a little of SPIDER-MAN's rain-swept flavor, before going balls-out with the humor; maybe he didn't realize that he'd struck just the right balance of zaniness and character, and actually damaged what could have been a very moving scene. Oh well, "Crouching Tiger Eats Noodles" makes up for it.)

SARS WARS picks up plenty of steam for its final act, chugging along nicely to a climactic CRYING GAME-inspired reveal, as well as a deus ex machina remote control gag that, even with all the insanity preceding it, is still an incredibly stupid way to close a picture.

The good far outweighs the bad in this ready-made fanboy favorite. Wantha even spices things with a quirky visual style (including energetic anime sequence-flashbacks) and a catchy-as-hell heavy metal theme song (which you can check out the video for below, after the trailer). SARS WARS: BANGKOK ZOMBIE CRISIS is not to be missed. Highly recommended.

DAY 196--THE WALKING DEAD

Just what this blog needs, another shot-in-the-backyard short film. This time around, it's director Chad Koeller's 2006 presentation THE WALKING DEAD, which is a literal example of the "Hey! I've got a video camera! Let's make a movie!" school of filmmaking. I wish I could say Koeller makes up in enthusiasm what he lacks in directorial prowess, but whatever creative urge might've spurred him on never translates to the screen. Like so many of these types of "productions," it's a home movie with a liberal use of Karo syrup.

The story is simply--very simply--a young man's encounter with a handful of the living dead; the first six minutes are nothing but this guy plopping his ass in front of the TV and watching fake news footage of a zombie epidemic cribbed from the DAWN OF THE DEAD DVD Special Features (hey Chad, look up this phrase: in media res) until the undead finally lumber into his house. There's two points of contention here: the first, if somebody staggered into your home--slack-jawed, wide-eyed, moaning and covered in blood--are you really going to politely ask, "Can I help you?" Even if they weren't obviously fucked-up, would you? And second: they're dead, dude, they don't have sticks jammed up their asses.

Actually, this guy takes a spreading zombie outbreak pretty calmly (for those of you who enjoy people half-heartedly watching alarming news reports, I've found your movie); in fact, he's such a cool cucumber that when the zombies sneak into his house he casually goes upstairs, hides in a closet, and patiently waits for the danger to wander away. And if you know anything about effective horror films, you know that protagonists who act calm and collected probably aren't in a very good movie. (You know what else indicates a bad movie? Zombies that hiss like cats.) I don't care what your motivation for making a movie may be, if there isn't a sense of urgency--about anything, whatever's at the heart of your story's conflict--then nobody's going to care.

They'll laugh at it, sure, but they won't care.

DAY 195--THE LOST ZOMBIE

THE LOST ZOMBIE is a 2008 short film submitted to me for review by writer/director Marshaa Robinson. At two and a half minutes it barely qualifies as a vignette, much less a fully-developed story, but at least possesses the kernel of a premise that would benefit from a more fleshed-out take. (Marshaa didn't include any additional information on her short, but from what I could gather this seems like a student production, and the abbreviated length may have been a prerequisite.)

The threadbare story, told in narration by a thoroughly awful voice-over (note: make sure your actor can read from a script without stumbling over his words before hiring him), deals with a young man named Daniel who has a "pet" zombie--in the sketchily-drawn back story, the living dead are rather commonplace--and his troublesome relationship with bullying Jessica, who seems to resent his zombie. The reason for Jessica's behavior lies at the heart of the story's conflict, which could've been quite resonant if it had a chance to fully develop, and didn't suffer from a pat, tidy conclusion.

With any luck, Marshaa will be able to expand on this brief short and play upon some of the intriguing ideas she suggests; there's a chance here to explore the themes of loss, grief, and hope. What I think would be really interesting--and I'm being serious here--if this short were re-done as a children's story; it has just that right touch of sweetness to it that what make it work. And hey--wouldn't we all like to see more kids' stories about the living dead?

I've been having trouble getting the film to load, so I'm not posting it here, but maybe you'll have better luck: THE LOST ZOMBIE.

DAY 194--THE MUMMY'S HAND

Continuing with our inclusion of mummy pictures, we turn our attention to 1940's THE MUMMY'S HAND. There's been a smattering of debate over whether this film is a direct sequel to the 1932 classic starring Boris Karloff, or merely the start of an entirely different series of films that just so happened to come from the same studio and featured a mummy.

Maybe it's a little of both, though those who claim that HAND bears no relation to the original must not have noticed the snippets of footage lifted from Karl Freund's picture, nor have they realized that HAND recycles the Karloff backstory, splicing in new shots of Tom Tyler as the newly-dubbed Kharis. (And how could they not have, as these moments contain the only real style of the picture.)

Reused footage notwithstanding, it's pretty apparent that Universal had a new direction in mind for their new MUMMY films, and I'm sure the operative word was "cheap." Whereas all of the classic monsters suffered from diminishing returns with each additional sequel, the MUMMY films jumped straight into programmer mode with its very first follow-up. Gone are the mood-enhancing lighting schemes, the opulent sets (except for the temple scenes which borrowed the sets from GREEN HELL), and the high-caliber talent; behind the camera is Christy Cabanne, a prolific but undistinguished director, and in front a mixed bag of actors including the great George Zucco (standing out as the mummy's mortal henchman), Peggy Moran, and Wallace Ford (playing here a Joe Pesci prototype as the so-called comic relief). HAND may have had the advantage of a slick studio pedigree, but it's really just one notch above the typical Poverty Row potboiler, with too much time spent on stagebound banter that the mummy practically becomes an afterthought.

As for the movie itself, it's a thin but often entertaining adventure masquerading as a fright film. A prologue of sorts sets to establish its own set of rules for the mummy Kharis, as Zucco is instructed by a high priest in the manner of the tana leaves that control Kharis (and a complicated set at that; owning a Mogwai is easier than keeping this bag of bones). It's Zucco's duty to protect Kharis's resting place from a group of Brooklyn-based archaeologists (Dick Foran and Ford, accompanied by Moran and her magician father) in search of treasure. Of course, if Zucco was any good at his job there wouldn't be a movie, so he unleashes Kharis on the treasure-hunters once they uncover the mummy's tomb.

Kharis stays off-screen for most of the movie, leaving Foran and Moran's budding desert romance and Ford's shtick to carry the story, and once the mummy finally walks he elicits more chuckles than chills. Ever mindful of his top-billed co-stars, Kharis is careful only to kill off the secondary characters (who must not've been very important, as Foran and company still sleep peacefully in their tents after discovering two bodies in their camp site, remaining disturbingly nonplussed), and appears more concerned with drinking tana brew than chasing our stars. (The idea to blacken Kharis's eyes--which involved hand-painting each individual frame--was a good one, giving his few close-ups a sorely-needed menacing feel.) The action is fairly rote, but I was surprised that second-banana Ford is the one who saves the day.

Some have argued that Stephen Sommers's 1999 version is ostensibly a remake of this film more than the 1932 original. I can certainly see the resemblance, with so-so computer effects distracting from the equally asinine humor and lightweight story. But at least THE MUMMY'S HAND still retains its nostalgic, Saturday afternoon matinee feel, a quality I doubt Sommers can boast in another sixty years.

(Here's a bunch of trailers for Universal's MUMMY films.)

DAY 193--HORROR RISES FROM THE TOMB

HORROR RISES FROM THE TOMB remains one of Paul Naschy's best-known films, perhaps because of its accessibility: this 1973 release from director Carlos Aured was one of the few of the actor's movies to receive a US video release (albeit in a heavily-edited form), but the film's emphasis on atmosphere and mood, along with a relative minimum of dialogue, made the uncut Spanish-language version a popular one on the bootleg circuit. It's also quintessential Naschy, a strange marriage of traditional Gothic elements and exploitation that works just enough to make it worthwhile viewing.

In a flashback to fifteenth-century France, Naschy (as sorceror Aleric du Marnac) and his mistress Helga Line are sentenced to death for practicing the black arts (and what a laundry list of offenses: drinking human blood, consuming human flesh, consorting with the Great Horned One, etc.). Before their deaths, Naschy places a curse on the descendants of his executioners. And then gets his head lopped off. Du Marnac's body and severed head, which is inexplicably still alive, are discovered in the modern day--well, the early '70s, anyway--by the attendees of a seance (including Naschy as the great-great-great-great-etc.-nephew of his earlier incarnation, along with frequent co-star Vic Winner). It isn't long until du Marnac's head is unearthed and it begins wreaking havoc on the cast.

TOMB strolls along at a fairly leisurely pace, but makes plenty of pit stops for crude gore (torn throats and ripped-out hearts seem to be a favorite here) and not-so-crude nudity (most notably in the bewitching form of Ms. Line). These baser elements, coupled with the lush European backdrop makes the movie feel like some sort of depraved comic book come to life. The half-hearted dubbing obscures some of the acting, but I doubt there's any Oscar-caliber performances here, even in its native Spanish (Naschy, who also scripted, was obviously looking out for number one here: he's either sitting behind an altar as a severed head or stripping his duds to get down with the females in the cast).

Far from a great film, TOMB is still a lot of fun, and would be worth checking out solely for the gloriously cheesy pipe-organ score (which Rob Zombie sampled for his HELLBILLY DELUXE album).