I will fully admit that I still to this day let my head get the best of me while watching films. That is my favorite part of wanting to watch and be immersed in film, the total suspension of disbelief on my part. I get so wrapped up in movies at times that it actually scares me, excites me, inspires me, depresses me, etc. And against my better judgment, last night I turned off all the lights and popped in the dvd of "Dawn of the Dead."
Now, if you know me at all, you know I am a devout zombie fan and a sucker for classic horror. The Romero "Dead" trilogy (soon to be quadrilogy - what is the word for that anyway?) is classic zombie paranoia that spoke volumes for the time periods in which they were produced. The original "Dawn" is hands down one of the best zombie films ever made and one of the best commentaries on consumerism ever made. All that aside, when the remake was announced, I was jazzed. I love horror movies, plain and simple. Bring it on! For some reason I never made it to the theatre to see the film, but last night it wrecked havoc on my living room.
This new "Dawn" does not have any form of social commentary, the relationships represented never pull you in and the bonds formed never resonate as they did in the '78 original. But, for a zombie film, this thing kicks some major ass. The reinvisioning of zombies over the last year (starting with "28 Days Later") has taken a frightening and more modern, maddening, paranoid take on our old oafish fiends. Gone are the days of the sluggish gray-faced zombie that may or may not get you. If you ran, you could get away. This new breed of zombie brings such intensity and immediacy to the survival game that if you run, you're done. They can jump and sprint better than a track and field star. The rushing and thrashing of it all is scary as fuck. It gives you a sense that if this really did happen, you have no chance of survival. Back in '78, you had a chance as long as you weren't barricaded into a corner. When I watch the original film, I get a sense that I possibly could have made it out of that situation alive. I mean, they couldn't get off the escalator let along catch you as you ran for the hills. A Krishna would not have killed me, I'll let that be known right here and now.
I will admit that half way through I had to turn on the lights because I couldn't deal with the complete blackness of my house. If something was coming at me from the kitchen, I at least wanted a visual warning. I know, don't... I'm a jackass.
This morning, I watched "United States of Leland" which was a sobering look at the sadness and despair of the world and how one boy takes steps to remove that feeling from his life. This one was a 2 hanky. I cried twice. This is the story of death and redemption in selfish forms. Leland kills his ex-girlfriends retarded brother for no apparent reason at all. Don Cheadle is an aspiring writer and teacher at the detention center Leland is sent. He uses Leland and the tragedy to write a book. Chris Klein woodenly acts his way through what he thinks will be the resolution to his girlfriend’s family's pain. Leland's father (Kevin Spacey) is a famous writer yet detached figure that too is using his son's tragedy to milk another novel. Everyone is selfish, even if they think they are acting under a bigger guise.
Leland killed the retarded boy because he saw hopelessness, sadness, and so much pain in his eyes that he wanted to make everything better for the retarded boy. He killed him to spare him anymore of this torture; he killed him because all he was being taught was the cautions of the world, no one was teaching him words like strawberry or kisses. Leland thought he was sparing the boy this bleak world but in reality Leland was sparing himself the pain around him by removing it from the equation. It was a heartbreaking tale, incredibly well acted and truthfully told. I thoroughly recommend.
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