WARM BODIES softens the zombie genre

         With the hit zombie-thon of the Walking Dead, and Twilight fan-girls tossing their panties at Robert Pattinson, American pop-culture is embracing the undead subgenres like never before.  Hell, there’s even a network commercial, which implements a gory zombie theme. After the success of Shaun of the Dead (2004), which is a brilliant parody of Romero’s zombie trilogy, I didn’t think it was possible to poke fun at the undead and still remain fresh and original. Zombieland (2009) fared well, but the laughs were few and far between.  Now there’s Warm Bodies, a zombie romance geared toward teenage audiences.
       I was pleasantly surprised with the film’s endless charm. The story is a Romeo and Juliet spinoff—a modern romantic comedy between a 20-something zombie and the girl he’s protecting, amidst the zombie apocalypse.  I thought to myself, how can a PG-13 rated film about zombies still remain slightly violent and gory (which the genre calls for) without crossing the horror line? The director, Jonathan Levine, knows how to create a likable hero, even when we see him partake in a human flesh cuisine. Even then, there’s still an air of cuteness about a zombie named “R.”
       Nicolas Hoult began his career in About a Boy (2002), playing opposite Hugh Grant. It was a child performance full of energy and heart.  Now all grown up, actor Hoult conveys a strong likability through his zombie character’s dry humor, witty internal monologue, subtle spark, and most important, the various elements in his makeup. Yes, “R” looks like the undead—blue skin, black circles under his eyes, and blood dripping from his mouth. However, there’s a key element into bringing a pleasant appearance to this particular zombie. “R” can eat all the human brains he wants, but as long as his eyeliner accentuates his striking green eyes, teeth white and aligned, then it’s easier for teenage girls to melt and giggle. Surely, they’re not taking off their panties like they do for Robert Pattinson, but the British actor is slowly making a name for himself.
       For my money, I’d prefer an all-out, grotesque zombie hero, teeth rotten to the root. However, I understand that the target audience is teenagers, and for what it is, and how the story develops, Warm Bodies works unlike any other zombie riff. The story even reinvents the subgenre; new biological insight into the zombie race allows for a glimmer of hope for everyone.
       Although I found Warm Bodies to be an effective installment in the zombie fad, I’d rather spend the night with acclaimed horror filmmaker George A. Romero and his metaphorical Dead films. First off, the special make-up effects in Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Day of the Dead (1985) put CGI gore to shame.  Romero’s social commentary and satirical overtones in all three films, starting with Night of the Living Dead (1968), reflect the era in which they were made.
       I have a profound appreciation for the older zombie films, even the cheapie grindhouses, which made Italian filmmaker, Lucio Fulci, a cult favorite.  The writer-and-director of Warm Bodies makes a reference to Fulci’s Zombie (1979), which is a gross-out, borderline exploitation zombie picture. Lucio Fulci’s style is very cheeky and in-your-face—the audience is either delighted or repulsed by the unhurried gore effects. I’m the critic that’s delighted. It takes you back to a time when special make-up effects took place before your eyes, rather than created on a computer.
      If you’re not a fan of the zombie genre and squeamish when it comes to the undead, then the sweet humor and charisma of the two leads will make Warm Bodies a beguiling affair. The film is the first enjoyable, mainstream-flesh-eating comedy of the year. Bon appetite.

 *** (out of four stars)

OSCAR GLORY: Yale's Favorite Nominated Films of 2012

The Academy Awards are just around the corner, and I was most enthused to see that Beasts of the Southern Wild was nominated for Best Picture. The other nominees—Argo, Zero Dark Thirty, Lincoln, Django Unchained, Life of Pi, Les Miserables, Amour, Silver Linings Playbook—are all terrific motion pictures. However, I’d replace Les Miserables with Skyfall, which is an invigorating installment in the James Bond franchise. However, Bond doesn’t equate Oscar gold. Helmed by acclaimed filmmaker, Sam Mendes (American Beauty), I think voters need to focus on the attributes that matter the most—content, direction, style—rather than “franchise” or “blockbuster.” Here’s a recap of some of the best films that are nominated for Best Picture.

        Prepared to be wowed.  Beasts of the Southern Wild is a poetic, southern gothic tale that pushes the limits of the viewer’s imagination. Real locations and visual fantasy blend seamlessly together. The creation is sweetly startling. The narrative is simple, but the visual scope is endless. The story focuses on the tumultuous relationship between 6-year-old hushpuppy and her sickly, hard-drinking father. They reside in the poor town of “Bathtub,” which is a swampy, tucked-away gem, located in the Louisiana bayou. Bathtub is a place where the locals decorate their stilted shacks and river rafts with spare car parts and driftwood. They indulge in an endless supply of crawfish, crabs and liquor.
          The filmmakers bring an unknown subculture to life. I’d love to buy a ticket to Louisiana and visit Bathtub, but my bet is, I’ll never find it. The location is drawn upon the meager lives of a post-Katrina society. In the course of the film, a storm breaks the levees, flooding the backwoods town. Little Hushpuppy learns that the ice poles are melting (which they are) and it causes a herd of gigantic aroch’s (mythical creatures) to migrate through Bathtub.
          First-time screen actress, Quvenshane Wallis, gives a genius performance, full of fire and gut-intuition. Every aspect of her physical feature—the shredded clothing, loud afro, and wide eyes bring out her determination to survive in a tragic, yet beautifully captured landscape. Her father, Wink, is harsh, stern and all-together, unfit to be a father in modern America, but the audience sympathizes with his relationship with his daughter. Remember, this isn’t America as we know it—the cars, the mortgage, and the 2.5 kids—this is the southern wild. He raises Hushpuppy to survive, rather than to fit it.
         The camerawork is handheld (constrained to the budget), but the images exude a calendar-like appeal, similar to the films of Terrance Malick (Days of Heaven, Tree of Life). Beasts of the Southern Wild is one of the best films I’ve seen this year. I hope mainstream audiences take a chance and see what all the fuss is about.  **** (out of four stars)

         Director David O’ Russell scored gold with Silver Linings Playbook, which is both a funny and gut-wrenching look at mental illness. Silver Linings Playbook is an “actors” film; the vibrant ensemble brings the dysfunctional characters to a highly emotional level. The term, “silver lining,” means finding something good from a bad situation. The film is very perceptive and nonjudgmental. When Bradley Cooper’s character was able to take a step back and perceive his family for what they are, the more he was able to accept his past. Bradley Cooper is always on the run.  As soon as his mother, played by Jacki Weaver, checks him out of the mental hospital, his manic energy causes him to chase his own tail. The scenes of him jogging relate to the most important theme of the film; moving on with your life. It’s about accepting the past and finding happiness in the present and future. In the beginning, Cooper chases around the people that brought him distress, but once he forms a bond with Jennifer Lawrence, an equally unstable character, he’s able to shut one door and open a new one. A dysfunctional family is a familiar theme in David O’ Russell’s films. The acclaimed filmmaker dealt with a Freudian incest relationship in his debut, Spanking the Monkey (1994). In the hilarious, Flirting with Disaster (1996), an adopted man goes on a screwball road trip in search of his biological parents, and in The Fighter (2010), we get a sense of Mark Walberg’s large and loud, Boston-based, blue-collar family.  *** 1/2 (out of four stars)

          Iconic filmmaker, Steven Spielberg takes a slightly different directorial approach to Lincoln; sober, thoughtful and dialogue-driven. Lincoln is a poignant portrait of an American president that’s been the center of satire and mythmaking. While I was watching the magnificently helmed narrative, I kept waiting for those kinetic camera close-ups that Spielberg is known for; the camera smoothly leaps into an important face or object, which lays out exposition. There wasn’t a single sweeping camera movement. Spielberg’s visual grammar isn’t necessarily pretentious, but he pulls the viewer into the kinetic energy of the camerawork. For example, in Minority Report (2002), I was in awe of the visceral top-view shot, which maps out an entire apartment complex; the camera moves in-and-out, rotating through the various rooms. Another exciting camera shot I recall is in Munich (2005), where two different groups surprise one another at gunpoint, and the camera moves through the corners of the hostel as all of the characters grab their weapons. However, in Lincoln, the camera is still and calm, absorbing the mis-en-scene. The wide shots convey the grandness of the old-time political offices, courtrooms and the candle-lit White House. The film is a smartly written period piece and actor Daniel Day-Lewis gives another Oscar-worthy performance. ***1/2 (out of four stars)

          Quentin Tarantino’s most linear narrative is now, I think, one of his most explosive. Django Unchained recycles spaghetti westerns and the blaxploitation genre and creates one of the most daring and funniest films; a slavery revenge fantasy—so kitschy, so cool. This is Tarantino as his most playful and at a running time of 2 hrs and 45 minutes, I was craving more. Scenes build-up with his signature, witty dialogue, and then pays-off with a violent outcome that’ll make Sam Peckinpah roll-over in his grave. Everything I love about spaghetti westerns—the griminess of life, high-priced bounties, and stylish visual grammar—are evident in Django Unchained.  Once Jamie Foxx and Christoph Waltz enter into the plantation called Candieland, it’s like I’d entered into an untapped world of cinema. That world belongs to the notorious 70s exploitation melodrama, Mandingo (1975). Mandingo has been labeled “racist” in its portrayal of slavery, but sometimes, and Tarantino understands this, there are some things in our culture that Americans are afraid to face. This is one of them. In Mandingo, the audience relishes the exploitive gore and sex of plantation life, but in Django Unchained, Tarantino is unearthing elements of evil that history books are careful to exclude. It’s not the fact that slaves are fighting to the death, but the fact that the slave owner, Calvin Candie, watches the murder for his own living-room entertainment, which makes it all-the-more disturbing. Tarantino rattles the cage with this thrilling opus, and his only weapon is a pencil and a camera. **** (out of four stars)

           Now, for the film that’s been sweeping all of the pre-Oscar awards, Argo is extremely enjoyable, suspenseful and masterfully crafted. Argo has been labeled as a spy thriller, but it’s more than that. The film also takes a look at the Hollywood industry in the late 70s, post-Star Wars. Both big-time and washed-out movie executives were lining up to produce their next blockbuster sci-fi film, so a fake production was a clever cover-up for the CIA.  Argo is a potent dramatization of a true event. The mission: a handful of American hostages need to be secretly smuggled out of Iran. Ben Affleck’s execution: chockfull of suspense techniques and peppered with retro show-biz humor. Argo is entertainment at the highest level. In the first twenty minutes, the exposition is thoughtfully laid out. The American Embassy has been overthrown, the Americans are in hiding, the CIA needs to figure out a solution, and it’s only a matter of time before the Iranian’s can piece together the shredded documents. All of the story’s dramatic elements intertwine in the final act of the film. The editing between the various locations had me at the edge of my seat. I found Argo to be a huge leap for Ben Affleck’s directing career. His previous effort, The Town (2010), was a thrilling heist film, but nothing like what he accomplishes here. ***1/2 (out of four stars)

           

                       

Take this movie as prescribed, the SIDE EFFECTS might be overwhelming

  

    Every time I turn on the T.V. there’s a commercial for a new, FDA-approved anti-depressant—Abilify, Cymbalta, Seroquel XR—we certainly live in a so-called “Prozac Nation.” The advertisements generally consist of a woman, mid-to-late thirties, sipping on a mug of hot tea and staring blankly out a living room window. I’m currently taking an anti-depressant called Zoloft. I trust my doctor, at least after seeing the numerous diplomas on his wall, but sometimes, I can’t help but think that the side effects could be detrimental to my overall health. Furthermore, Zoloft, along with Paxil, Effexor and Lexapro are repeatedly referred to in this penetrating thriller. In today’s culture, pharmacology is a popular topic among dinner dates. Remember when exercise, well-balanced meals and a brandy nightcap did the trick? Those days are long over, and the filmmakers behind Side Effects are well aware of that.  
    Director Steven Soderbergh has stated that Side Effects is his last film. It’s a shame. Ever since he snagged the coveted Palm D’ Or at the 1989 Cannes Film Festival for his tantalizing psychological bedroom drama, Sex, Lies, and Videotapes, he’s rarely hit a false note in his directing career. Soderbergh’s mainstream affair, such as the Ocean’s trilogy, is still sublimely cool and understated. With Side Effects, not only is he staying relevant with our ever-changing American culture, but he takes what seems like a standard progression in mental health care, and flipping it on its back. The filmmakers unravel the story with suspense, intrigue, and above all, cunning irony.
     Side Effects begins with a wide pan of Manhattan, followed by a slow zoom-in shot of a window. The opening shot instantly reminded me of the ominous beginning of Hitchock’s Psycho (1960); camera pans across Phoenix, Arizona and zooms into a window. Similar to Psycho, an unforeseen murder takes place. Side Effects opens and closes with camera movements from the perspective of looking into a home from a window, and conversely, looking out from a mental hospital. The placement of these two shots indirectly conveys the madhouse America is turning into.
     The film begins with Emily Taylor, played by Rooney Mara, greeting her husband Martin (Channing Tatum) from a stint in prison for insider trading. Seemingly depressed and suicidal, Emily is confronted by psychiatrist Jonathan Banks (Jude Law) after crashing her car into a concrete wall. Sodenbergh initiates the car crash by a visceral montage, comprised of extreme angles and close-ups. At one point, the camera shows her press the gas pedal; her foot literally steps on the lens of the camera. Montages are typically used to convey an action that would be less convincing if it were done with a single wide shot. Not only is the scene dramatically effective, it also establishes an important plot-point. The car wreck, along with other dramatic scenes, is flipped around towards the end, shedding new light to the story.
     Dr. Jonathan Banks is troubled by Emily’s diagnosis and investigates her past. He contacts Emily’s previous psychiatrist, Victoria Siebert, played with a sexy confidence by Catherine Zeta-Jones. Dr. Siebert reports she tried many drugs with Emily and encouraged him to try a new anti-depressant. Consequently, Emily’s side effects are bizarre; she begins to sleepwalk. Since the drug is working, despite the side effects, Dr. Banks keeps her on the drug. The subtext of the film shows how pharmaceutical companies manipulate consumers and physicians; the twist here is what happens when patients and psychiatrist manipulate the mental health care system. That’s as far as I’ll delve into the plot, anymore would spoil the experience.
     Side Effects starts off as a character-driven drama—a woman seeking help for her depression. Then, it progresses into a social expose of modern psychiatry, and somewhere along the line, the narrative turns into a steamy, potboiler of a murder mystery. The conclusion is riveting. It has the same tone and plot devices as other modern noirs, such as Body Heat (1981) and The Grifters (1990).
     I absolutely love the look of this film. Soderbergh has mastered HD technology and gives the film a cool and breezy undertone. The images are dripping with murky greens and yellows; a shadowy darkness is exposed underneath the seemingly professional New York socialites. Side Effects isn’t the kind of story that’s filmed these days. It’s a risky endeavor. The writer and director have to make sure that they’re one step ahead of the audience, and in the case of Side Effects, I was blindsided. The narrative contains old-school devices borrowed from the best of the mystery genre, and it kept building my interest until the very last shot.

***1/2 (out of four stars)