Director Jonathan Levine has managed to follow up his acclaimed 2011 film 50/50 with another daring foray into fresh, original comedy. Like 50/50 which delved into the comedic side of cancer, Levine bravely attempts a comedic allegory that discusses human detachment and confusion, as seen through the metaphorical eyes of the undead. The result is slow to break through audience reservations but once it catches fire, will easily warm observer hearts along with the zombies.
Premise: The strange post-apocalyptic world as seen through the eyes of the undead. Result: A funny, interesting allegory with a refreshing point-of-view.
The film begins with the narration of R (Nicholas Hoult), a zombie, in a post-apocalyptic world where most people are walking dead known as “corpses”, and some have even transformed into horrifying mega-horrors, ravenous creatures known as “Bonies”.The introduction gives vague explanations for the present world as everyone have devolved into reanimated cadavers.
R gives us a sad, somber tale of his disconnection from the world as a result of his newfound state of undeadness. Images are splashed over the screen of mindless creatures wandering along, endlessly shuffling in search of nothing in particular.
But R is different, it would appear, somehow able to think more than the average undead; we have no way of knowing that since only R’s narration informs us but this ultimately doesn’t matter. We do follow R and his “life” as he explains his loneliness and purposelessness, through the humorous lens of a creature previously supposed to have no lingering human traits. This even with his “best friend” M (Rob Corddry), another barely animated creature, with whom he shares endless hours of grunting and awkward, empty stares.
But everything changes for R when he is confronted by a band of humans looking for supplies led by Perry (Dave Franco) and including Julie (Teresa Palmer) and Nora (Analeigh Tipton). R and an impromptu mass of zombies discover their exploits and attack them; in this monstrous assault, two important developments take place: R notices Julie, which awakens something inside of him and he consumes Perry’s brains, whose memories as Julie’s boyfriend, strength a strange attraction he has to the girl.
He can’t explain why, but there is something inside him that wants to be human, awakened by Julie. A concept thought impossible, especially by Julie’s father and leader of the Human resistance, Grigio (John Malkovich), who declares the zombies to no longer be human and ultimately lost.
There are several key choices Levine makes that allow this storyline to somehow work. First, he is in on the joke from moment one, never distracted by offering too much explanation or takes the work too seriously. There are countless moments where observers might reproach him for what appear like plot holes but instead Levine is intent on using humor to spackle these breaches and connect us firmly to the irony.
The film is an allegory for human disconnection, how we might truly be the walking dead despite our ever beating hearts. The zombie experience is filled with longing and isolation; despite a world that literally bumps into you, as a walking corpse, you don’t and further can’t make contact.
Levine clearly connects this state to people today: early in the film, R laments the passing of the previous “living” world filled with associations and intimate communication (yet, the scenes we witness as observers are familiar images of people on their cell phones texting or searching, completely ignoring one another.)
And the connection to memories, and their links to humanity, is a very interesting topic; not only does this serve as thought-provoking conversation about the stage of humanity now and what makes us human, but also advances the zombie dialogue; if memories link us to humanity, and the hunger that zombies experience leads them to inadvertently reacquire this relationship through feeding, has nature given us a subtle cure to our own tragic fate?
All this is cleverly constructed through adept use of humor, direct dialogue, comedic timing, music, irony and even proper foreshadowing. Levine knows that in making a film like this, where audience suspension of disbelief is not only required, but required in heavier doses than usual, the obstacles to audience acceptance make his success tenuous at best. With this in mind, Levine never betrays this trust, giving audiences a solid, coherent, and most importantly, entertaining experience.
The casting served Levine well also. Hoult manages his leading role with remarkable aplomb, using his facial expressions and sharp comedic timing to keep audiences rooting for him until the end. Corddry, for his part, is well known in comedic circles and so his success in this sphere should not have come as much of a surprise; yet his role also asked him to approach the role with notable restraint, something foreign to his typical comedic style and so elevates him both in this role as well as in the esteem of audiences.
Palmer holds her own in this role, mixing very real sadness and fear while still keeping this within the context of a comedy. This type of balance is rare in actresses and she keeps us believing throughout. And Tipton, as the quirky best friend, is strong enough in her role to keep from falling into the void of shallow comic relief, a pit from which actors rarely return.
Overall, this film is worth watching. It isn’t hilarious, laugh-out-loud funny all the time or even incontinence-inducing. But those familiar with similar types of movies will understand the truly magnificent accomplishment; films that take unconventional topics and play with it, often do not work because either the screenwriter or the director somehow do not understand the fragile audience-film connection to the unconventional. But Levine, brilliantly adapting the Isaac Marion novel, is fearless and spot on. And so, despite a slow start, he delivers a film worth remembering.
Rating: 8 – An expensive red wine and juicy steak
*** See the first 4 minutes ****