At one point in time zombies were relegated to the back burner of horrordom. I know, crazy right? Why, because zombies have always been pretty awesome. Long before 28 days later 're-envisioned' the undead as some sort of macabre walking venereal case study gone awry, zombies have always been that one creature that was just as formidable as most death dealers, albeit in groups of a dozen or more, but one never given its just due. George Romero seemed to get it, and not only that, but treated these bad asses with proper bad assery. So as an adolescent, being treated to the release of the stellar first entry into the Resident Evil franchise, needless to say my mind was blown. There I was, older brother Gabe at my side, controller in hand, blasting away at the undead, while also trying to survive the onslaught and stave off running out of ammo. Needless to say it fucking great. When the sequel dropped, it was like the second coming. Then things kind of got stale, as series invariably do, and the zombie genre kind of limped further away from the mainstream, and closer to the fringe where it just seemed more comfortable. A few movies would emerge, a few comics, maybe a game or two, but not much life seemed to be left in this already lifeless vestibule of cranium craving cadavers.
Then all of a sudden, wham! Zombies where every where. George retold his vision of a zombie apocalypse in a none-too-great Dawn remake. Resident Evil 4 dropped and removed the zombie element in lieu of some poor man's excuse of a zombie knock off. Resident Evil the movie franchise was born, and well... We all know how that bullshit turns out. At least until then next completely unnecessary installment that no one is asking for, and that for some reason escapes the direct to dvd death sentence it deserves for its many crimes against humanity. Then came Call of Duty's Nazi zombies, "Dude, they're Nazis, and zombies!". I will take this moment to go on record and say that 28 Weeks Later was actually really good. The opening sequence alone was perhaps one of the most truly frightening scenes I've witnessed in recent cinema. It perfectly encapsulated the fear and tension, and sacrifice that would be required to survive a true zombie apocalypse. Plus it was my first introduction to Jeremy Renner for better, and begrudgingly (lately) for worse.
I have, of course skipped over a few less-than-mentionables, and I'm sure even a few brilliant entries also, sorry. But with the sudden influx of over saturation in the zombie realm its easy to do. Some how a movie like the dead manages theatrical release, yet is a perfect example of a shitty zombie movie. One could quite literally live comfortably in the scenario depicted in the movie, as it seems only possible to get bit if you simply stand still and allow it to happen, as does occur with every death in that piece of shit. Of course, when talking about zombies and feces, you must inevitably turn to the Walking Dead, a steamy pile of excrement. A clear case of ham-fisted sermonizing discussed as thrilling zombie fare.
I guess what I'm getting at is this, zombies have always been awesome, and for a while there it was a great time to be a zombie lover. But then the corporate machinery began to turn and it was evident that there was money to be made, and shit just got all out of hand. Plants vs Zombies, for the kiddies and casuals. That isn't to say that its completely hopeless, or that anything zombie related is going to be lousy. After all, like the zombies themselves, this a genre that just keeps trucking. But when left unchecked, like all things, its easy to lose sight of what makes zombies great, and even easier to press on until the very last dollar has been made, and even slightly beyond.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Friday, September 14, 2012
Some Guy Typing
I am a bit of a dick. The real life version of that dumb dog from late night television. I shit on most everything, but for a good reason. Well, okay, maybe just for A reason. Alright, I shit on most everything for no good Goddamn reason at all. But, that said, why not? Most things could use a coat of feces if for no other reason than to add a bit of texture and flavor that may otherwise be lacking. Poop is a natural thing; pooping a natural occurrence. Where am I going with this? Not sure. Nowhere really. This is just the first in what may prove to be a voluminous series of inane rants and or diatribes that will most likely culminate in a heap of dung. So I'm just gonna go with this motif and see where it takes me.
Now, I know what you may already be thinking, index finger hovering over that left mouse button highlighting the page back icon, "Great, just what I wanted to read, another idiot with a bad attitude. Some bastion of ill will, bloated by self loathing and a misguided holier than thou sense of moral perpetuity". But before you dismiss me outright, with all the justification in the world mind you, perhaps you should chill the fuck out and give me a second to get this ball rolling. Who knows, it may prove more fruitful than fawning over what some teeny bop tween asshole is wearing to the who gives a shit awards ceremony of the week. After all, this could save your life. Well, that's not true really. In fact that is a bold face lie on my part and I apologize. But if nothing else I do have a way with words.
So, back to whatever point it is that I'm floundering to make. Or at the very least, whatever point it is I assume I'm trying to make. I mean at this point I'm just milking the hell out of this introduction for all its worth. Which brings me surreptitiously to my next point. I've already used the word point a number of times and have yet to make one. How's that for talent? Of course I've also used the word reason a good deal, but don't seem to have one of those, either, so take that.
"Alright" I'm sure you're saying to yourself by now, "Why am I bothering to read this drivel?". That I can't answer. I can, however, point out that when I typed drivvle into Bing the fourth entry on the list was Rihanna's Wikipedia page, and that seem apropos. Unrelated? Perhaps, but fuck her. She's been poisoning the airwaves for years now, and that ain't no poop.
So here we are, you and I, staring into each other's eyes via this flowery prose I've taken precious few moments out my otherwise extremely non-busy life to secrete onto this blog post while watching Sons of Anarchy season 1 episode 5. A decent enough program that aside from it's awful intro sequence has managed to hold my attention long enough to continue plodding through it. All the while leaving me just enough spare brain power to jot down this drought ridden stream of conscience. But perhaps that is the point to all of this. Like an idiot driving a car while checking out the play list on his ipod; I may not be able to do either all that well, but yet I still somehow manage to do both at the same time anyway.
Still with me? Jesus. Well, I guess that's reason enough to continue. As a mission statement this is pretty lousy, but fuck it. Mission statements are for assholes. Highly polished bric-a-brac espoused by twats twiddling their thumbs. Hogwash etiquette. Mealy mouthed mish mash. Long story short, there is a rhyme to this reason and I suppose now is the perfect time to divulge what it whatever it may be. After all, if you've lasted this long I owe you that much at least.
This is just some guy typing, nothing special really. From time to time there may be an actual point of contention to be found within these musings of mine. It may not be profound, but profundities are for zealots and people that are legally blind. And although that last statement may not make a lick of sense, has anything you've read thus far managed to? Probably not, or maybe it has, who knows.
Short story long, from time to time I do manage to proffer gems of wisdom, however tarnished they may be. In fact, here is one such diamond in the proverbial rough right now; a bevy of movies any self respecting film lover should check out in no particular order: The Aura, La Moustache, The Yellow Sea, Animal Kingdom, Princess And The Warrior, Barking Dogs Never Bite, Winter's Bone, The Chaser, Julia, Intacto, Even The Rain, Missing Person, Fay Grim, Snowtown.
And so it goes. Until we meet again; keep America beautiful- Stop littering, there's a trash can on damn near every street corner you two bit crumb bum!
Now, I know what you may already be thinking, index finger hovering over that left mouse button highlighting the page back icon, "Great, just what I wanted to read, another idiot with a bad attitude. Some bastion of ill will, bloated by self loathing and a misguided holier than thou sense of moral perpetuity". But before you dismiss me outright, with all the justification in the world mind you, perhaps you should chill the fuck out and give me a second to get this ball rolling. Who knows, it may prove more fruitful than fawning over what some teeny bop tween asshole is wearing to the who gives a shit awards ceremony of the week. After all, this could save your life. Well, that's not true really. In fact that is a bold face lie on my part and I apologize. But if nothing else I do have a way with words.
So, back to whatever point it is that I'm floundering to make. Or at the very least, whatever point it is I assume I'm trying to make. I mean at this point I'm just milking the hell out of this introduction for all its worth. Which brings me surreptitiously to my next point. I've already used the word point a number of times and have yet to make one. How's that for talent? Of course I've also used the word reason a good deal, but don't seem to have one of those, either, so take that.
"Alright" I'm sure you're saying to yourself by now, "Why am I bothering to read this drivel?". That I can't answer. I can, however, point out that when I typed drivvle into Bing the fourth entry on the list was Rihanna's Wikipedia page, and that seem apropos. Unrelated? Perhaps, but fuck her. She's been poisoning the airwaves for years now, and that ain't no poop.
So here we are, you and I, staring into each other's eyes via this flowery prose I've taken precious few moments out my otherwise extremely non-busy life to secrete onto this blog post while watching Sons of Anarchy season 1 episode 5. A decent enough program that aside from it's awful intro sequence has managed to hold my attention long enough to continue plodding through it. All the while leaving me just enough spare brain power to jot down this drought ridden stream of conscience. But perhaps that is the point to all of this. Like an idiot driving a car while checking out the play list on his ipod; I may not be able to do either all that well, but yet I still somehow manage to do both at the same time anyway.
Still with me? Jesus. Well, I guess that's reason enough to continue. As a mission statement this is pretty lousy, but fuck it. Mission statements are for assholes. Highly polished bric-a-brac espoused by twats twiddling their thumbs. Hogwash etiquette. Mealy mouthed mish mash. Long story short, there is a rhyme to this reason and I suppose now is the perfect time to divulge what it whatever it may be. After all, if you've lasted this long I owe you that much at least.
This is just some guy typing, nothing special really. From time to time there may be an actual point of contention to be found within these musings of mine. It may not be profound, but profundities are for zealots and people that are legally blind. And although that last statement may not make a lick of sense, has anything you've read thus far managed to? Probably not, or maybe it has, who knows.
Short story long, from time to time I do manage to proffer gems of wisdom, however tarnished they may be. In fact, here is one such diamond in the proverbial rough right now; a bevy of movies any self respecting film lover should check out in no particular order: The Aura, La Moustache, The Yellow Sea, Animal Kingdom, Princess And The Warrior, Barking Dogs Never Bite, Winter's Bone, The Chaser, Julia, Intacto, Even The Rain, Missing Person, Fay Grim, Snowtown.
And so it goes. Until we meet again; keep America beautiful- Stop littering, there's a trash can on damn near every street corner you two bit crumb bum!
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