Tag: zombies

Paradise Z

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★★½
“Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow”

This is all a bit confusing, not least because of the three different titles under which this is known. It also doesn’t help that it is one-third of an intended trilogy. This is the first part. I had previously seen the third, The Driver starring Mark Dacascos, a while ago (not GWG, but reviewed on my other site), and the second… hasn’t yet been made. Not quite the way I’d have gone about it. To be honest, you are probably better off having watched The Driver, since that explains a lot of stuff that this doesn’t. Which may well explain the eviscerating reviews on the IMDb. Though maybe it is the director: for a long time ago, he also made Ballistic: Ecks vs. Sever, which remains one of the worst-ever reviewed movies on Rotten Tomatoes.

There are really only two characters here: Sylvia (Gorum) and Rose (Tantayanon). They are the sole occupants of what seems to be a villa complex in Thailand, where they spend their days lying about and making yarn pictures. If you’ve seen The Driver, in which Sylvia and Rose appear at the end, you’ll know there’s a zombie apocalypse in progress, with these walking dead being particularly attracted to sound. Hence (because the film never explains it), S+R’s use of headphones, as well as a noise-cancelling toilet. Inevitably, it can’t last, and their idyll – “Another day in paradise,” as one of them sardonically comments – is eventually interrupted by a horde of fast-moving and extremely aggressive invaders.

Part of the reason I suspect it was critically eviscerated was that it’s fifty minutes or more before any zombies show up on screen, which is not what you’d expect from the trailer. It, quite deliberately, takes its time getting there, and depicts the boredom of our heroine’s daily life. Quite easy to mistake a portrayal of tedium as tedious itself, especially given the near-total lack of dialogue here. Even I, who was probably better prepared and informed than most, found this element severely overplayed. 10-15 minutes would have been fine, and done an equally good job of establishing the necessary atmosphere, rather than occupying the bulk of the film’s running time, as it does.

Eventually, and quite abruptly, it does kick into life, and there is an adequate amount of mayhem as the ladies realize their location has become untenable. It’s mostly close-combat, and in another interesting twist, the zombies are afraid of water (perhaps suggesting the disease here is akin to rabies?), something which can be used to humanity’s advantage. That said, it’s still not what I’d consider an acceptable payoff for the long lead-up, in which the sole point of note is probably some significant lesbian canoodling between Rose and Sylvia. This likely doesn’t count as enough, and as a standalone movie, falls short of satisfying. It might have worked as an episode of a long-running TV series, and is certainly different from your typical zombie film. Different, however, is not necessarily the same as good.

Dir: Wych Kaosayananda
Star: Milena Gorum, Alice Tantayanon, Brian Migliore
a.k.a. Two of Us or Dead Earth

Until Morning Comes boxed set, by J.T. Sawyer

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Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆½

This omnibus edition contains the first three volumes in Sawyer’s post-apocalyptic story: Until Morning Comes, In Too Deep, and The Way Back. The central character is 31-year-old Secret Service agent Carlie Simmons, who is on secondment to Tucson, Arizona to provide protection for the President’s daughter, Eliza Huntington, who is attending university there. Things take a sudden wrong turn, with the outbreak of a fast-spreading infection, which turns its victims into psychotic flesh-eating ghouls.

Yes, folks: this apocalypse is of the well-known zombie flavour. Carlie’s first task is to secure Miss Huntington, and take her to a secure location. Thereafter, she becomes part of the effort to find a cure, involving a trip first to New Orleans, then to a former Soviet research facility in Cuba – the latter mission going particularly wrong. Meanwhile, Eliza’s life is little better, after Air Force One goes down in a remote part of Idaho.

It’s a genre which has been more or less done to death over the past decade – regardless of whether you mean TV, movies, graphic novels or books. As such, there isn’t much here which is particularly new or interesting. The virus responsible appears to be of Russian origin; yet towards the end, there are hints a faction of the US government was also involved in its manufacture. But it’s mostly a fairly steady killing spree, with heads exploding from the liberal application of firepower, or when the ammo runs out, enthusiastic use of machetes and other sharp implements.

It’s probably Eliza’s arc which is rather more interesting, despite her story being the minor one over the three volumes. Carlie is a bad-ass from the get-go, and there’s not much development from there (to be fair, not much is needed). Eliza, however, has to transform from being the First Daughter into a zombie-killer, willing to survive by any means necessary. The question of what cost this transition has on her humanity is more implied than explicitly discussed, yet Sawyer manages it in a way that it’s considerably less implausible than it sounds. The author’s background as a survival teacher also helps give the more technical aspects additional credibility, and I’m always pleased to see any locally-set entertainment; Arizona is hard done-by there!

Working against these positive aspects, however, is the sheer predictability of it all. Simply depicting a zombie apocalypse isn’t enough, especially not given the extent to which they have dominated the horror landscape over the past fifteen years. The Dawn of the Dead remake in 2004 probably kicked things off, with Season 5 of The Walking Dead in 2014 probably the point at which I reached my personal fill. The first of these books was originally published in October that year. But the five years since have not been kind, and I suspect even at the time, this would have seemed lacking in inventiveness or originality. While good enough at what it does, what it does isn’t quite good enough.

Author: J.T. Sawyer
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, only as an e-book
Book 1-3 of 5 in the Carlie Simmons series.

No Safe Haven, by Kyla Stone

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Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆½

I’ve read enough action heroine novels now to be more than familiar with the tropes of the genre. For example, I can do without ever reading another novel which puts fantasy creatures like elves and magic into a modern-day setting. The zombie apocalypse is another scenario which has been done to death. I mean, we even abandoned The Walking Dead, and watching that was pretty much muscle memory. However, this novel proves there’s still life in the genre, offering some interesting twists on it.

Though, admittedly, it’s not strictly a zombie scenario. More a 28 Days Later one, with a highly-infectious global pandemic, transmitted by bites, etc. which cause the victims to become extremely aggressive. On the fringes of this is Raven Nakamura, a young girl who is rather disaffected with her current life. She lives in the middle of nowhere, helping her taciturn father run the Haven Wildlife Refuge, a private zoo in Northern Georgia. Mom has already bailed, and Raven is on the verge of doing the same.

Then terrorists release the Hydra virus, and when her father becomes among the infected. Raven is suddenly thrown onto her own resources. On the plus side, she had always been taught survival skills, so is in better shape than most people to survive the collapse of the food distribution network. On the other hand, most people don’t have to deal with a group of bikers, who descend on the Haven Wildlife Refuge. If they’d just looted the place and left, that might not have been too bad. But when they start shooting the animals, Raven have had enough. And so have the animals.

For, to mis-quote Chekhov, “If in the first act you have large, genetically engineered wolves and an irritable tiger, then in a following one they should be let loose.” Such is the case here: right from the moment Vlad the tiger arrives, you just know someone is going to end up becoming a gratifying buffet. The animals probably do more of the actual violence than Raven, which is why the kick-butt quotient is relatively low. However, this is made up for in its impact, particularly the emotional toll it taken on our heroine, who really just wants the bikers to leave her alone.

While set in the same universe as the author’s Lost Sanctuary series, it seems to operate as a standalone entity. I must admit, this was a story that crept up on me. I’m usually quite strict about how much I read in a sitting, but confess that this was one where “Just one more chapter” happened on a number of occasions. Seeing the entirety of Lost Sanctuary on sale for 99 cents, the day I write this review, became a no-brainer purchase, regardless of whether or not it qualifies for the site. Now, I just have to find the time to read it!

Author: Kyla Stone
Publisher: Paper Moon Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
A side story in the 5-volume Lost Sanctuary series.

Lust of the Dead 1-3

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★★★½
“The dead want women.”

Though it may be difficult to believe such a thing, the original Japanese title for this franchise of low-budget efforts was even more politically incorrect: Rape Zombie. If ever a title change was understandable… I went into this, largely on the basis of the covers, and braced for something awful. On that basis, I was pleasantly impressed: yes, this remains staggeringly offensive. Yet it’s clearly made by people who are familiar with, and love, zombie films. There are signs of actual brains being present – and not the kind normally found in the genre, being chewed on by the shambling antagonists. Five films have been made: for now, I’m covering the first three, which are the only ones available with subtitles [because, y’know, understanding the dialogue is so important here…]

The concept is more or less the standard one: a global outbreak of some kind of illness, turning the victims into mindless creatures, who attack any non-infected person they encounter. The difference here is that the disease affects only men, and turns them into sex-crazed rapists, who will sexually assault every woman they meet. [This does an amusing job of explaining the traditional slow, shuffling gait of the zombie – here, it’s because their pants are around their ankles.] Making things worse, their semen kills their victims. Needless to say, 50% of the population is less than happy with this situation, setting up a literal war of the sexes, with the now female-led military distributing weapons to its civilian colleagues, for the battle against those pesky rape zombies.

The sex is actually the least interesting thing here – though I note, up until the very end of part 3, there is apparently no such thing as a gay zombie, who goes after other men. What is far more entertaining is the shotgun social satire at play, with the makers turning the heat up on just about everyone. Feminists. Male rights activists. The media. Politicians. Women. Men (for once, “toxic masculinity” is not hyperbole). Social networking. Idol culture. For instance, the rapidly appointed female Prime Minister proclaims, “We’re only in this situation because we allowed men to run wild with their perverted fantasies!” – then high-tails it to Hawaii, immediately she finds out North Korea has launched a nuke at Japan. When that missile flies across the skies of Tokyo, everyone just whips out their phones to take video of it.

There are four heroines in the series: two pairs, who team up following some initial distrust. Momoko (Kobayashi) ends up in hospital as the crisis breaks, after slashing her wrists at work. There, she’s befriended by nurse Nozomi (Ozawa), and when all hell breaks loose, the pair flee the hospital, and end up taking refuge in a Shinto shrine. There, they meet Kanae (Asami) and Tomoe (Aikawa), a battered housewife and a schoolgirl who have also been trying to survive the carnage. The actresses portraying all four, incidentally, are best known for their adult work, though seem to acquit themselves credibly enough with the (admittedly, fairly limited) acting required here.

The main…ah, thrust of the trilogy is that men’s vulnerability to the virus (or whatever it is), is dependent on their pre-epidemic sexual appetite and activity. So, the jocks and pretty boys of society are pretty much toast: who inherit the earth are the otaku. That word is probably best translated as the Japanese version of nerds/fanboys, though more derogatory in connotation there, with a particular lack of social skills. When things settle down, they form the “Akiba Empire”, blaming women for the collapse of society. They hunt the remaining “3D women” with the air of domesticated zombies. On the other side are the “Amazons”, consisting of women soldiers from the Japanese Self-Defense Forces, and other survivors, including our four heroines and scientists working on a cure.

There are a couple of further wrinkles to this scenario. Momoe ended up pregnant by her husband, but is also raped by a zombie, though survives. The resulting child – born remarkably quickly – is apparently seen as some kind of saviour by the zombies and th Akiba Empitre, who won’t attack it or Momoe. She ends up apparently driven insane, a crypto-divine figure to the otaku, worshipped as an idol – in the J-pop sense at least, performing excruciatingly bad (deliberately, I sense) musical routines for them. Meanwhile, Tomoe – spoiler – dies at the end of part one, but comes back in two and three as an American combat robot, complete with laser eyes and lightning-producing fingers. She’s sent to Japan, both to gather data and carry out something called “Project Herod”. Which is what you would expect: part three ends in a cliff-hanger, with her and Momoe in a face-off.

It would have been very easy for this to simply be a porn film with zombies in it, which I’m sure exist. As I hope the above makes clear, it isn’t. Horror fans will have fun spotting the riffs on other genre entries, such as the twist on Return of the Living Dead where a captive zombie is quizzed to its motivation: the answer here, naturally, being “More… pussy.” [As an aside, certain words are bleeped out on the Japanese soundtrack, which seems surprisingly prurient, given the nature of these films!] The second also introduces Shinji, a non-otaku seemingly unaffected by the epidemic, and his girlfriend, Maki; he becomes a key part of the scientific research, though it turns out his immunity isn’t quite what it seems. Despite the copious nudity, it all feels not dissimilar to George Romero’s Day of the Dead, located at the shadowy nexus of science and the military-industrial complex.

Overall, the trilogy manages to cram in more invention than entire later seasons of The Walking Dead. It’s especially impressive considering each film runs barely an hour – less if you discount the “Previously…” opener and closing credits. I’m not entirely convinced there needs to have been five of these films; with editing, you could likely condense them all into two, maybe two and a half, hours and lose little or no impact. There are certainly times where the intent far outstrips the available resources, to an almost painful degree, and I’m no fan of the CGI splatter which is used more often that I’d like. It remains a rare case where exploitation comes with actual smarts, and that’s a combination you just don’t see very often.

Dir: Naoyuki Tomomatsu
Star:  Saya Kobayashi, Alice Ozawa, Yui Aikawa, Asami 
a.k.a. Rape Zombie

Devour, by R.L. Blalock

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Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

Back when I was growing up in Britain during the eighties, I was a voracious reader of horror fiction. The two staples of my literary diet were the works of James Herbert, who occupied the more “literary” end of the spectrum, and Shaun Hutson, whose novels were about as subtle as a kick to the groin. This likely tends towards the latter end of the spectrum, being a straightforward tale of survival during the zombie apocalypse. It begins as Olivia Bennett is heading home from lunch with her husband, when the St. Louis freeway on which she is driving becomes one of the first killing zones.

With civilization rapidly imploding, and communications all but non-existent, Liv has to make her way through the increasingly dangerous cityscape toward Slag Stead, a farm on the outskirts which may (or may not) provide a safe haven, and where her husband may (or may not) be waiting. Making matters considerably more perilous, Liv also has to protect her toddler daughter Elli. On the one hand, Elli’s survival provides a considerable dose of maternal motivation. But on the other, she’s too young to understand that there are times when silence is not just golden, it’s essential for survival.

In the cyclical nature of horror, I can’t help wondering if we have passed Peak Zombie, as it were. The Walking Dead has now completed its eighth season, and seems increasingly to be struggling to keep things fresh. This goes back to the roots of the sub-genre: rather than man vs. man (or woman), against a zombie backdrop, the story here is almost entirely woman vs. zombie. Or, rather, zombieS, for the pack nature of the infected here is part of what makes them devastatingly lethal. They’re also fast, rather than the classic, slow-moving shufflers of the George A. Romero universe: zombie purists may be less than happy with that choice.

However, this approach does lead to a relatively repetitious approach to the story here: Sneak, slay, hide, rinse, repeat. There’s really only so many times you can describe Liv’s chosen weapon of a mallet, whacking a “feral” upside the head. While occasionally, Liv and Elli do cross paths with other survivors, I rarely felt that the subsequent interactions provided much in the way of additional depth: these additional characters felt dropped in merely to serve the plot. I did like Liv, and appreciated her relentless survival instincts – though for someone supposedly training to be a nurse, she seemed curiously squeamish, especially during the early stages [admittedly, she gets over it, and by the end is wielding that mallet with something bordering on enthusiasm].

Occasionally, Blalock does crib a bit too obviously from other genre entries. The sequence where the ferals attack and over-run a radio station closely parallels 1979’s Italian movie, Zombie, while the notion that they “sleep” at night was used in The Girl With All The Gifts. Admittedly, there’s precious little that’s truly new under the sun in the zombie world, but if you want to stand out from the rotting, flesh-gnawing masses, you need to offer something new, be it in content or style. This doesn’t do much of either, and while competent enough, is eminently forgettable.

Author: R.L. Blalock
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon as both an e-book and a paperback.
Book one in the Death & Decay series

Night of the Living Dead (1990)

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★★★½
“Better head(-shot) than dead.”

Important to note the year here, because the original Night of the Living Dead, for all its massive influence (without it, there’d be no The Walking Dead or World War Z) was very, very far from an action heroine film. Though it started off focusing on its female lead, Barbara, after she reaches sanctuary in the farmhouse, she spends virtually the rest of the movie in a near-catatonic state, and the film switches focus to Ben, who becomes the film’s hero. The change for this remake is one of a number of alterations, which are likely both necessary and helpful: when you are redoing a film widely regarded as a classic, you’d better bring something new to the party. That’s something largely forgotten by many horror remakes.

Even to non-horror fans, the plot likely doesn’t need much description. On a visit to her mother’s grave with her brother, Barbara (Tallman) finds herself the target for first one, then multiple, crazed attackers. She takes refuge nearby, along with others seeking shelter. They include Ben (Todd), a no-nonsense type, who repeatedly and at increasing volume crosses swords with Harry (Towles) over whether or not everyone would be better off sheltering in the cellar. As the zombie hordes congregate, various escape plans are formulated and tried – but tensions continue to rise, and the biggest threat to collective survival may not be the undead, banging on the doors.

Largely done for financial reasons – creator George A. Romero made very little from the original, despite its success – this works unexpectedly well. Right from the start, it adjusts the story in small ways that will surprise those familiar with the original, on its way to an ending which twists sharply away from the source, not once but twice. However, it’s the change in Barbara which probably represents the largest shift. Initially, it looks like she’s going the same route, and will spend much of the film suffering from shock. However, she snaps out of it, and rapidly becomes the most sensible member of the group: her suggestions are credible, and she doesn’t engage in the bickering which threatens to tear the group apart, instead firing back, “You can talk to me about ‘losing it’ when you stop screaming at each other like a bunch of two-year-olds.”

She’s well ahead of the curve in terms to figuring things out, too. Witness the scene where there’s still some uncertainty about what they’re facing: she fires several shots into a zombie’s body, asking repeatedly, “Is he dead?”, before finishing the creature off with the archetypal bullet to the brain. No further questions. At the end, while still having some moral qualms – “We’re them and they’re us” – she is capable of putting them aside, and become a bandolier-wearing bad-ass. In the event of a zombie apocalypse, this version of Barbara is one of the people you’d most want beside you; she’s smart, ruthless and takes absolutely no shit from anyone, human or zombie.

Dir: Tom Savini
Star: Patricia Tallman, Tony Todd, Tom Towles, McKee Anderson