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28 Years Later

George Romero invented the modern zombie film starting in 1968 with Night of the Living Dead. There had been zombie-themed horror films in the 1930s and ’40s, like White Zombie and I Walked with a Zombie, but they had been focused on the Haitian Vodou roots of the zombie myth, filtered through the era’s ubiquitous racism.

Night of the Living Dead is not about a witch doctor using magic to control a white woman. In Romero’s vision, an unknown cosmic force reanimates “the unburied dead” who kill and eat the living. The word “zombie” is never uttered in the film; Romero and co-writer John Russo called them “ghouls.” But by the time Romero filmed the sequel, 1978’s Dawn of the Dead, they were zombies, and his vision had replaced the original meaning of the word. 

The 21st century has seen a huge surge in zombie media. (How many seasons did The Walking Dead and its spinoffs run? Too many!) The zombie renaissance started in 2002 with 28 Days Later. Written by Alex Garland and directed by Danny Boyle, it captured the imagination with its opening sequence where Jim (Cillian Murphy) awakens from a coma and wanders through an empty London. While Romero’s zombies were shambling corpses who were easy to avoid but hard to escape, Boyle and Garland’s zombies were very fast and very mean — and not, technically speaking, dead. The highly infectious rage virus destroyed the thinking parts of the brain while amping up the victim’s fear and violence. 

Shot in the early days of digital, 28 Days Later was an early example of chaos cinema. Liberated from the cost of film stock, Boyle shot his action sequences handheld with lots of coverage, then jammed the whole thing together in the editing room, creating excitement out of the combination of shaky cam and quick cuts. It was a big factor in the film’s success and, along with The Bourne Identity, inspired a decade’s worth of disorienting and often sloppy action. 

The 2007 sequel, 28 Weeks Later, was produced by an entirely different team. Now, after a decade in development hell, Garland and Boyle have returned to zombieland with 28 Years Later. At the end of the last film, the rage virus had spread to Paris. But apparently, the Europeans had more luck combatting the zombies than the British did. Now, Britannia is a total quarantine zone. Anything that gets out is shot on sight by EU patrols, and if you go in, you’re on your own.

That’s not only EU policy; it’s also how they do things at Lindisfarne, an island off the Scottish coast connected to the mainland by a causeway which is only passable at low tide. That’s where 12-year-old Spike (Alfie Williams) lives with his father Jamie (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) and mother Isla (Jodie Comer). The survivors’ commune is pretty well protected by fortifications both natural and manmade, but they have virtually zero connection to the outside world. Isla is sick with an unknown ailment which leaves her confused and weak. When Jamie decides it’s time for 12-year-old Spike to come of age by killing his first zombie with a bow and arrow, Isla is terrified she’ll never see her son again. But she quickly forgets, and Spike reassures her he’s just going to school. The townsfolk give them a big sendoff, but not before the commune’s matriarch (Stella Gonet) reminds them, “No rescues. No exceptions.” 

Once on the mainland, Spike and Jamie loot houses that have been already picked over. In the forest, Jamie finds an obese rage zombie crawling on the ground eating worms. He goads a shaking Spike into putting an arrow in its jugular — and almost misses the second zombie sneaking up behind them. As they traipse through the ruined uplands, they attract the attention of an Alpha zombie (Chi Lewis-Parry). It seems that when some people are infected by the virus, their pituitary gland goes into overdrive, and they grow much larger and smarter than normal zombies. Since the ragers are mostly naked, we see that ALL of the Alpha’s bodily appendages have grown much larger than normal.  

While hiding in an attic from the Alpha and his minions, Spike sees a fire on the horizon. Jamie believes it belongs to Dr. Ian Kelson (Ralph Fiennes), another survivor whom the Lindisfarne folks believe has gone stark raving mad. But what Spike hears is “doctor.” The commune hasn’t had a physician in years, and he’s hopeful that a real MD could cure his mother’s mysterious disease. When they finally make it back to their island, Spike makes a plan to escape to Dr. Kelson’s with Isla in tow. But what chance does a 12-year-old and a sickly dementia patient have in a Scotland swarming with zombies? 

The most surprising thing about 28 Years Later is how retro it is. Boyle and cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle shot the bulk of the movie on an iPhone 15 Pro Max — a much more advanced camera than the Canon XL1 they used on 28 Days Later. The edit is a blast of full frontal chaos cinema, circa 2003. The inhabitants of the British Isles have been reduced to a medieval state, while their European neighbors across the channel enjoy iPhones and cosmetic surgery. Editor Jon Harris gets the point across by intercutting Spike’s longbow practice sessions with scenes from Laurence Olivier’s wartime masterpiece Henry V. If you liked Natural Born Killers for the editing, this film is for you. 

But if you’re not into being pummeled by a W-era digital image flood, you might come away from 28 Years Later with a headache. Let’s just say the post-screening conversation in the Malco Studio on the Square men’s room grew quite heated. 

I was on the “pro” side of the argument. Boyle and Garland are all out of fucks to give, and I found their big swings exhilarating. At age 14, Alfie Williams is already a breakout talent; he and Jodi Corner are grounding presences amidst the chaos. Then Ralph Fiennes shows up painted red from head to toe, looking like things have gotten out of hand at the Grand Budapest Hotel. The British Isles isolated from the European Union, crawling with infected people who are too stupefied to help themselves, feels eerily familiar in our post-Brexit, post-Covid world, and that’s no coincidence. As George Romero taught us, the real villains are always the humans. 

28 Years Later

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Horrortober: Night Of The Living Dead (1968)


OZ: Original Zombie


FILM TITLE:
Night of the Living Dead (1968)

ELAPSED TIME: 13:22

WHY DID I STOP WATCHING? Blonde lady discovered desiccated body

If there is one reigning moral in horror movies that I can really get behind, it is that a certain amount of forbearance when it comes scary shit will pay off in the end. See: the different between Barbra (Judith O’Dea) and her rube of a brother in the opening scene of Night of the Living Dead (1968.) Barbra and bro drive up to a rural cemetery in order to place a wreath on the grave of a dead relative. It’s a dreary scene, and Barbra’s hapless brother is all complaints: “A lot of good the extra daylight does us,” he says. “You think I want to blow Sunday on a scene like this?”

Judith O’Dea as Barbara.

Barbra, on the other hand, is reverent at the grave. Her brother teases her, recalling a time when they were kids and he scared her. Haha, he says when she winces, “You’re still scared.” Barbra demurs, but she easily could have responded, “No shit. There are fucking zombies in this cemetery, and they are about to kill you, you worthless scrub,” because that is the direction that everything goes. A big ole zombie, a sentient member of the 1960s undead (you can tell it’s the 60s because the zombie wears a suit and has nicely coiffed hair), emerges from over the hill and knocks out broseph. Barbra escapes the cemetery, at least for long enough to barricade herself in an old farmhouse.

The point here is that if you don’t tempt the undead by being a sarcastic jerk, you have a better chance of escaping when they come for you. So why — why?? — would I exercise anything but utmost caution and fear while reviewing a movie about zombies. “Ha ha, zombies are fake,” another critic might write, flaunting their critical thinking skills and rational brains. Not me. Memo to zombies: I think you’re very scary. Leave me alone, please.

So Barbra makes it to this half-lit farmhouse, where she grabs a knife from the kitchen. Nothing comforting about this place at all, except that it temporarily contains no zombies. (Aside about these zombies: they seem smarter, in general, than zombies do now. A little more expressive and mobile. The scariest contemporary zombie movie I’ve seen is Shaun of the Dead, but I can tell you that those zombies are dumber than 1960s zombies, which seems to bode ill for us as a culture. Even our nightmares are getting dumber.) Barbra makes her way around the farmhouse, climbs some stairs and sees a desiccated body, presumably of farmhouse owner. A body that is just eyes in a chewed out skull.

Our columnist did’t get this far into the movie.

For more information about this classic piece of cinema, I will refer you to the Rotten Tomatoes page, because I stopped watching at 13:22. “You’re so scared,” you might say, doing an impression of the guy who gets killed in the first 5 minutes of Night of the Living Dead. “I’m going to survive this horror movie we call life,” I say back to you as I stockpile peanut butter and duct tape in my cubicle. I’ll see you on the other side. 

Horrortober: Night Of The Living Dead (1968)

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Food & Drink Hungry Memphis

Harbor Town Dog Show Eats, and more

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Sunday’s Harbor Town Dog Show is open to all dogs. Any pooch, no matter how questionable his pedigree, can compete for the top prize in such categories as “Least Obedient” and “Best Tail Wagging.”

What does this have to do with food? The event is a fund-raiser for the Humane Society of Memphis and Shelby Country, and $20 gets you and your dog entry into its VIP area, where there will be a spread with food from Miss Cordelia’s, Paulette’s, Tug’s, and the Terrace. One Smart Pet Food will be donating treats for the dogs.

The event is from noon to 4 p.m.

Tickets for the VIP room can be purchased here.

The Memphis Farmers Market annual Barnyard Ball at the Central Station Pavilion is Saturday, from 4 to 7 p.m. There will be plenty of food from area restaurants plus beer and wine, but I’ve got my eye on that cake walk.

Get your tickets here.

But wait, there’s more …

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The Spellbound Halloween party, Halloween night, at the Madison Hotel will feature a Candy Corn Cocktail. It’s Kahlua, Licor 43, butterscotch schnapps, half & half, and OJ.

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Nuff said.

Nearby at Felicia Suzanne’s, also on Halloween, is the Zombies, Tacos, & Tunes. There will be $2 tacos, spooky cocktails, plus a costume contest, which is open to dogs.

On Saturday, starting at 1 p.m., Slider Inn will host Paws for a Cause, another event benefiting the Humane Society.

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Cover Feature News

Zombified

Some ironies are too delicious not to mention, no matter how obscure the points of reference might be. In 1987, on an episode of the awful Suzanne Somers sitcom She’s the Sheriff, daffy Deputy Max Rubin described a dire situation to dippy Sheriff Hildy Granger as being, “Just like in that old movie I Was a Zombie for the F.B.I.” As usual, Max had it wrong. Zombie, which will screen at this year’s Indie Memphis Film Festival as a part of its “Back in the Day” series, was shot by a crew of mostly unpaid Memphis State University students in 1982.

Although it had the look of a backlot studio screamer from the 1950s, Zombie had never received any kind of theatrical release. It entered the public consciousness on Halloween night in 1985 via the USA Network’s Night Flight programming. It was aired as part of a special fright-night double feature, paired with the schlock classic Attack of the Killer Tomatoes. Needless to say, Deputy Max’s ill-informed reference probably fell beyond the frame of reference of most She’s the Sheriff viewers.

But Zombie, which was director Marius Penczner’s first and only film, and which was only shown once in Memphis, six times on Night Flight, and nowhere else, somehow penetrated deeper into the American psyche than its too-brief provenance might suggest.

In December 1985, Spin magazine published a column slugged “Dylan on Dylan,” in which the iconic musician and occasional actor said I Was a Zombie for the F.B.I. was a movie he really wished he’d been in.

With Dylan’s mention, Penczner’s film, which was always “out there,” was now officially “out there.” Today, Penczner consults for political campaigns and makes commercials.

So what was it about Zombie, a film described by its creators as a parody of black-and-white science fiction films and serialized cop dramas, that helped it into the canon of cult cinema? The irresistibly wrongheaded title certainly helps, as does the film’s failure as a parody. I Was a Zombie for the FBI plays as straight as Reefer Madness, giving it a rare authenticity and deceptive charm.

Larry Raspberry, former lead singer of the Gentrys, and his cousin James Raspberry play a couple of agents investigating the alleged death of the infamous Brazzo brothers, who have disappeared in a UFO-related plane crash. But Bart (John Gillick) and Bert (Lawrence Hall) aren’t dead. They’re in the employ of aliens who intend to conquer the Earth by contaminating the soft-drink supply.

Zombie’s credits read like a who’s who of Memphis theater. Jim Ostrander, for whom the local theater awards are named, makes a brief but memorable appearance as a ruthless corporate executive. Award-winning actor/director Tony Isbell and character actor Rick Crow play a deadpan pair of alien henchmen. Raspberry was Memphis’ original Dr. Frankenfurter when Circuit Playhouse staged The Rocky Horror Show in 1976.

“There were times when I spent hours tied up with my arms over my head in a basement in July,” says Memphis theater veteran Christina Wellford Scott, confessing that all the suffering was worth it.

Scott plays Zombie‘s Penny Carson, an eternally imperiled heroine who isn’t afraid to slug a zombie with a piece of heavy equipment or fill the bad guys full of lead.

“They were making the story up as we went along. Marius would make up these wild stories and tell me I was going to have to jump from a building onto a bunch of mattresses. And I believed him.”

Penczner cut 33 minutes from his film prior to its 2005 release on Rykodisc, improving some effects and adding an omnipresent electronic soundtrack that moves things along to a raunchy porn groove. The result is faster paced, less confusing trash cinema that is still entirely too slow and completely confusing. And even for fans of bad film making, that’s a good thing.

I Was a Zombie for the FBI

Monday, October 22nd, 9:40 p.m.