I Fucking Told You So (Or, How World War Z Proves That Sav is Always Right)

Yes, I told everyone my next post would be on quantum immortality and its importance in film, but I saw World War Z recently and compared to the ideas of explodey zombie swarms, quantum immortality just has to take a backseat. Yes, I'm that person, sue me. I'm writing it. So strap yourselves in and prepare for the most beautiful, mind-blowing rant you've ever read, bitches.
Here's the deal: Once the Warm Bodies weekend came and went, once everyone settled comfortably into the ins and outs of 2013 and we collectively moved on, most everyone could agree that we needed a break from zombie movies. I was subject to more than a few rants on how zombie movies were so passe and it was time for a change, so thank god Star Trek: Into Darkness and Pacific Rim were up next, because DAMN shambling corpses were getting old.
Coming from the perspective of one who had never read the book, it seemed perfectly reasonable to me to assume that perhaps World War Z would represent the last of the zombie film horde and it would follow the pattern of other film crazes: one major box office flop, a disappearance for about two years, a weak attempt at revival, and then finally slipping into the mists of obscurity for a half century, relegated to attempts by indie filmmakers and nothing more.
And then the trailer happened:



Suddenly, everyone was actually excited about this movie. Yet when pressed, I couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Was it because the zombies in this film were portrayed with different behavior? No, running zombies were present in Zombieland and herdlike behavior reigned in films like I Am Legend. Was it Brad Pitt's starring role? Well, maybe, but even that couldn't make up for the content so reviled by the masses. What was it? Why were we so excited? Perhaps the trailer conveyed some subtle difference in portrayal that couldn't simply be told, but had to be experienced.
Still, that's giving a one-minute sequence of film cuts a lot of credit.
Either way, World War Z opened second at the box office last weekend, beaten only by Monsters University, which had the Pixar trump card fueling its numbers. Ultimately, World War Z surpassed even the most generous estimates for its opening weekend, netting an unlikely 66 million, and making it the all-time most profitable opening weekend for a zombie movie.
I'm gonna say that again: This zombie flick made the highest opening weekend gross of any film like it, ever. More than Warm Bodies, more than Resident Evil, even more than the beloved Zombieland, albeit by a narrow margin. So much for being sick of zombie movies.
Perhaps it was the timing of the thing. I mean, it had been almost a week since the release of an apocalypse movie, surely we were hungry for another.
Perhaps it was the hype surrounding the film and its numerous rewrites, as surely people can respect a film that exceeds both its budget and its deadlines for the sake of perceived improvement.
Perhaps it was the film buzz created by the media and its--
Okay, I can't even type that with a straight face so I'm gonna just stop there and cut to the chase.
This film is the first fruit from a society that has collectively decided that the cynicism of 2012 is no longer tolerable. This film represents our need to move on to a new attitude, especially in crisis. Remember my Warm Bodies article? The one about learning to care for each other because we're human? The theme rang true and it resonated. I'm gonna quote myself here:

We needed [the theme] to be framed in such a way that we didn’t know we were being told to love one another... [I]t took much much longer to figure out that, yes, for us to prosper as a species, we must learn to act in a manner outside ourselves as individuals and together as a whole.

 Warm Bodies said "quit hating, and just love." We all agreed, and patiently awaited a big change in the zeitgeist. So how does World War Z, with its apocalyptic scenes and violence, represent that change?
One word: Focus.
See, when I went in to watch World War Z, it was with an air of defeat that I conceded perhaps society wasn't ready to move on in attitude. Perhaps we needed another year of cynical apocalypse movies after all. "Oh well," I reasoned, "at least I'll get to enjoy some cool action and CG while I wait for them to try something new."
Then the film began.
And then, I took it all back.
This film opens with a juxtaposition of images that ultimately foreshadow the film's plot without being overly obvious, an applaudable move. But rather than using images that convey shambling automatons alongside crumbling infrastructure, the images used are those of a buzzing, productive society overshadowed by an unseen, pervasive threat. In addition, it was well executed, lacking any great amount of cliche or heavy-handed agenda.

It exceeded my expectation, to say the least. So I settled in to watch wide panoramas of destruction, satisfied that at least one piece of the film was done right.
"No, no," said the film. "Not yet. We've got a world to build first." And build it did. Of course, the starting scene is the obligatory display of the hero, played by Brad Pitt, enjoying a happy breakfast with his family. Sure, there's troubling news on the television tuned to CNN, but when is that not true? They banter as they enjoy their pancakes.
But instead of wasting time on the family's daily routine, the film quickly moves on. Overall the establishment of Pitt's homeostasis takes less than two minutes. Then comes the wholesale destruction of that homeostasis, which takes less than five. But rather than giving the audience that deliciously cathartic, showy display of buildings falling as everyone scrambles to save themselves, World War Z's cinematography uses extremely tight, controlled perspective to create a sense of real tension, and that's where things start to get interesting.
Although World War Z sounds like a cliched title, as the film goes on it becomes increasingly clear just how apropos the name really is. But unlike past zombie movies, wherein the body count stacks higher and higher as the remaining humans give the race up for lost, WWZ and its characters never for one moment give up hope that there is a cure, somewhere out there. Ultimately, humanity will survive, one way or another. It's just a question of how.
One of the things I admire most about this film is its dedication to realism in human interaction. Yes, there are hordes of zombies overrunning the populace. But you know what else is happening? Police and the military are doing their jobs, as effectively as possible, and they're willing to sacrifice their own lives to protect the lives of others. You know, like in real life.
I realized this film represented a core shift in the way filmmakers think when I heard a line I had never thought before, uttered by Ludi Boeken: "Every human being we save is one less [zombie] to fight." The thought of saving human beings, instead of just killing zombies, is not one I had ever really attributed to that kind of apocalypse scenario.
And it's not just in the good ol' US of A, no, this kind of willingness to fight for the common good is pretty ubiquitous, something not generally found to be true in past films. In spite of the grittiness of World War Z, the worldview displayed by its plot is actually pretty positive. "Look!" it says. "People all around the world want to help each other too! Yay humanity, we don't all suck!"
And really, this human interaction permeates the whole of the film, rounding it out with a much warmer, more and even reasonable feel. The reactions and situations have the honesty of Zombieland but with a far more dramatic flair. Even the abject panic scenes feel more realistic. The one scene with an "every man for himself" attitude involves Pitt and family heading to a grocery store for supplies, which, unsurprisingly, is being looted at a rapid rate. Even then, the looters are leaving each other alone, only taking what they need and leaving supplies for the rest of the people. One looter even assists Pitt in finding the right medicine for his asthmatic daughter. Yes, his wife is attacked by another looter and Pitt guns her assailant down, but he puts his hands up for the cop that immediately rounds the corner, ready to cooperate. The cop looks over the scene, then strides past Pitt to gather supplies as though nothing happened. The scene gets a little veneer of extra poignancy when you realize he's grabbing baby food and diapers.

And yet, that scene could have so easily been an exposition on how it's humanity that should be feared, not the zombies. Too often in the last ten years have directors relied on the age old question, "who's the real monster? Is it man, or the monster man creates?" News flash: it's the monster. It has always been the monster, and it will always be the monster. Even King Kong caused millions in property damage and killed people.
World War Z is a film created by people who know this. It's clear in the extreme lack of cynicism present throughout the plot. Between the more realistic, humanistic portrayal of people, the quick, effective work they can do, and the actual attempts they make to handle the situation and find a cure, World War Z's depiction of the human race is pretty rosy. And maybe it's right. Maybe we're sick of viewing ourselves and each other as pathetic automatons.
Which means, maybe, we're going to move on.
In conclusion, I predict a massive shift in the way filmmakers execute stories. I predict that stories will become leaner, faster, and more driven by the necessarily good human traits we all were too cynical to realize we had. No longer will directors attempt to create characterization by shoehorning in irritating amounts of exposition, or using grittiness as a spackle to coat an otherwise mediocre plot. We're headed into a new golden age of film, my friends. Don't take those seatbelts off just yet.

So, Pacific Rim...

Called it, bitches.

Bromantic Intentions: 8 Beautiful Bromances to Joyify Your Feels

Continuing in the thread of human companionship, let's talk about "bromances." This oft-loved genre has its roots in the "buddy" films that often involve a hero and his friend or sidekick using their friendship to overcome all odds. Bromances in particular generally put a large amount of focus on both the strength and depth of the relationship, without putting it into a romantic context. While there is some debate as to what differentiates a bromance from a buddy film (or whether the genres are one and the same), both are staples in both comedy and action cinema, vital, vibrant, and nuanced.
Obviously, the standard we are judging by comes from the most famous examples of the Bromance: films like I Love You Man, Ted, and Superbad. But let's take a closer look at the genre with a few more examples you may or may not have seen.


Paul
Simon Pegg films are a treasure trove of bromances, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz being the most famous examples.  Many like how the writing acknowledges the absurdity of friends being forced to stick together against impossible odds. In Paul's case, it involves aliens and the CIA. Starring Simon Pegg , Seth Rogen, and Nick Frost, this buddy flick is crammed full of nerdy pop-culture references like a starship full of Tribbles.(Eh? Eh?)
This film takes every bromance cliche (the road trip, the bros-before-hos conundrum, the constant questioning by outsiders of their sexuality, etc.) and owns each and every one in a surprisingly unique way.  I think it's because of that staunch ownership that I'm always in the mood to watch Paul despite its over-the-top display . Though, to be fair, its razor sharp wit combined with foul-mouthed frankness make for constantly entertaining dialogue and it has some pretty good slapstick moments, so even if I didn't catch the geeky references I'd be entertained.
Ultimately, Paul is easily one of the most solid examples of true bromance on this list, and definitely worth watching. Be prepared to pause and rewind frequently to see little background cameos and Easter eggs.






50/50
 There's no stronger bromance than one forged in the fires of hardship. Also, you know what sucks? Cancer. Cancer sucks. 50/50 is a film about two bros (played by Seth Rogen and Joseph Gordon-Levitt) coming to terms with the difficulties in their relationship when one is diagnosed with a rare form of spinal cancer. The neatest thing about this flick is watching the story unfold as each man comes to realize how much the other cares about him.
Of course, it's still a comedy. Yes, it's a touching story, but you'll be laughing the whole time, except for about ten minutes toward the end, as such comedies go.




The Full Monty
This film is a classic bromance that has the added bonus of providing societal examination. In the mid-nineties, it was easy to see that the world had changed thanks to women entering the workforce in droves, and as equals (finally). The Full Monty was among the first films to display the plight of disempowered men, put out of work and unable to own their feelings of inferiority compared to the women in their lives. But the take on it is fairly lighthearted without seeming fake: what's a guy to do when he's down on his luck and needs some fast cash? Strip! It's a guaranteed formula for both comedy and success.
However, unlike the oglefest provided by Magic Mike, this film highlights a group of average middle-aged British men, rather than slick, hairless pretty boys. The far more difficult circumstances they face compared to the professional, muscly type men mirrors the difficulties of disenfranchised blue-collar man in a white-collar world.
Plus, it's a little strange looking back to an era in which a family of two could be supported on the income of one low-level management position that appears to be part time.  Eerie.



21 Jump Street
In addition to being a typical, cerebral-chewing-gum type comedy, this film paints a clear picture of the man (in this case men) out of his depth: in one case, out of his depth socially, in another, out of his depth mentally, and both coming to terms with the changes in their identities necessary to performing their jobs.
Also, there's some pretty gratuitous drug use and underage drinking. But we'll ignore that for now.
21 Jump Street takes every opportunity to play up the idea that our society is changing--we no longer value the meathead jock over the quirky theater nerd, for the most part. (Some places have yet to adapt.) In the age of the attention span, coolness is less about physical prowess and more what a person provides--whether it's social amusement, phat beats, a new life philosophy, or drugs--in this case, all of the above.
But it also takes the time to elaborate on what traits separate teenagers from adults: namely, the ability to both survive out of one's depth and to look beyond superficial social labels to make valuable connections in their lives. In a world where one can delete and/or block anyone who disagrees with their views or lifestyle, these two men rose above social stigma and became friends anyway. In other words, they grew up. Makes your constant bickering about gun laws with your sister-in-law's nephew seem kind of childish, doesn't it?
No? Fine. I'm blocking you.



Bottle Rocket
Many bromances focus on a plot whose premise operates outside the law, involving drug use, murder, extensive property damage, or falsifying documents. Bottle Rocket is an early heist film with Owen and Luke Wilson, with Idiocracy's Robert Musgrave thrown in for good measure. It's a film that tends to be most popular with those who like The Big Lebowski, as it's another lesser-known Wes Anderson film.
Comedy has frequently been focused on inept characters since the beginning of time: old-style theater characters such as the daffy and the dunce have, over time, given way to the stoner and the shmuck, but the idea remains the same. However, it's interesting to note that only bromances and buddy films are the generally accepted settings for these kinds of characters, as a comedic dunce would be completely out of place in a non-comedy film, and at time Bottle Rocket was made (1996), no one was interested in laughing at an inept trio of women make their way across the country on a crime spree. Though trends have changed in recent years, it's clear that men still have the market cornered in comedy involving general or social ineptitude.



Kiss Kiss Bang Bang

For some reason I have a strange penchant for bromances that stem from enmity or bitter rivalry. Kiss Kiss Bang Bang is a great example of this build. The two main characters (Robert Downey, Jr. and Val Kilmer) spend the first half of the movie expressing their vehement dislike of each other, but they keep hanging out. Why? Well, circumstances force them to, at least at first. But after that, these guys just keep finding themselves at the same places, simply because--well, okay, the perpetrators of a murder ring are trying to kill the both of them. Alright, honestly, these two pretty much never voluntarily hang out with one another. In fact, it's really not until the end that they acknowledge their bond. But that doesn't mean it doesn't manifest itself subtly, slowly, over the course of the film. Did I mention the acting is fantastic?
In addition, the pair is extremely lucky, a point Robert Downey, Jr.'s character makes repeatedly throughout the narrative. This film is a great example of the alluring nature of quantum immortality. That's something I'll be going over more later, so for now suffice to say that these characters are lovable because they're so lucky.



Pineapple Express
Stoner comedies are one of the most early harbingers of the bromance. Pineapple Express represents one of the more well-done examples of these.
Even the most serious of bromance films have comedic elements, it seems. The nice thing about comedy involving drug use is it doesn't even try to put on a serious face. In addition, there usually isn't much variance in the plot of the stoner comedy: Most follow an arc that involves travel or fleeing a superior force, followed by perceived betrayal of one party before a glorious explodey victory, peppered with gratuitous sexual references, drug, and alcohol use, and fantastically unlikely turns of events.
That being said, it is interesting that these kinds of films continue to be popular so long as the writing involves each of those elements. No major change of the genre has been demanded the way it has with action movies or horror films. Really, for all its smooth execution Pineapple Express stands out as the go-to stoner comedy mostly because the drug is in the movie's title; you don't get more overt than that.



The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
I hesitated to include Hitchiker's because it isn't the most popular of films, particularly among fans of the book series. But I wouldn't qualify it as a failure of a film. If anything, the film spends more time focusing on the bromance aspect than the books do. Part of this is because of author Douglas Adams' comedic style necessitates a slight bit of animosity between all of the characters, which the film doesn't translate as much.
At any rate, I included this film in the list because it so clearly highlights the importance of the bromance in this vast, cold, cruel universe. Main characters Arthur and Ford, played by Martin Freeman and Mos Def, stick together before, during and after the destruction of Earth, through thick and thin. Yes, even when every last McDonalds, Twinkie, and Facebook account in the universe is destroyed, these two show the true meaning of friendship with exactly enough cheese to make it believable. It's exactly the kind of feel-goody movie that we've all come to love, which is funny because of its extremely cynical take on the universe in general.


These are but a few of hundreds of wonderful bromances out there. What are some of your favorite bromances?

Sav's Top Ten Underrated Chick Flicks

Ignoring the inherent flaws in the system that turns out romantic comedies and dramas on a regular basis, there's a lot to be said for films chronicling the human journey to finding picture-perfect love. Unfortunately, for every shining gem filled with feel-goody, squishy love juice, there are a dozen dried-out sponges of cinematic torture, waiting to grate themselves against your eyes as you contemplate your empty popcorn bowl and the fact that you will probably never find that special someone to play bedsheet twister with.
What's a person to do? Thanks to the ubiquitous and often unvaried nature of movie trailers, and romantic movie trailers in particular, it's difficult to tell the gems from the scrubby sponges. Fortunately, I have seen your plight and have composed a list of cinematic love quests which will entertain and delight you. These films, I find, are part of a popular genre but go largely unappreciated. They are the diamonds in the rough, as it were. So if you're looking for a tale of heartwarming affection, or just looking for something to throw on the TV while you attempt to breach second base, look no further. Here are ten fail-safe films that deserve a second look:

Fired Up
Immature coming-of-age comedy? Yes. Possibly misogynistic themes perpetrated by unrealistic protagonists? Yes. Supremely entertaining? Abso-freaking-lutely. Everyone remembers a time when the ideas of sex, romance, and other relations with your favorite gender were new and uncertain. We may have dealt with it in different ways, but the idea of sex being desirable--in theory, if not in practice--seemed pretty universal. This film calls to mind those awkward teenage years, and provides a method of wish fulfillment. Because honestly, don't you wish YOU were that comfortable with the idea of sex, romance, and burgeoning adulthood at that age?



He's Just Not That Into You
Honestly, I wouldn't say that this particular film is necessarily unpopular, but I would say it gets a bad rap. Many have written it off as a bad comedy, or lambasted its premise as antifeminist. Still others have it put down as the ultimate cliche chick-flick even though the producers have gone to great lengths to display exactly how few cliches it subscribes to:










But it does have good themes and if you tend to get bored of one couple's story, it'll keep you entertained as it weaves through the story of a number of different relationships. It's not the best example of comedy, admittedly, but it does have its funny moments.
Ultimately, I think people tend to downplay the complexity of He's Just Not That Into You, and I think a lot of it has to do with the film's name. I mean, what person hasn't had to deal with a tepid relationship at some point in their lives? If you're feeling cynical about your love life, this would be a great film to watch.



Closer
I should clarify: if you thought this list was all about romantic comedies,  I am afraid you are quite mistaken. This is not a happy film by any stretch of the imagination, rife with heavy, adult themes. But, that being said, it is extremely well done, star-studded, and possessed of a very specific depth that's generally only found in live theater. This is largely because the film is based on a stage play, a point that usually makes for dry content, but in this case lends richness to the character interactions. If you want a break from the airheaded comedies, I would definitely put this on your list.




Imagine Me and You
Proof that love is more flexible and complicated than a bipolar basketweaving contortionist, this British film takes a close look at budding attraction, love at first sight, and finding "the right one," even if you don't get it right the first time. It's a touching, varied narrative with funny moments and deeply philosophical themes. And it's a little sad. But ultimately, so is the quest for love, so maybe it's a good thing.




Bedazzled
This is a mostly forgotten little jewel of a comedy made in a time when Brendan Fraser was still relatively good looking. Chronicling the tale of a nerd who accepts seven wishes from the devil in exchange for his soul, this film is filled with surprisingly witty humor, which is why I'm so sad it has been lost to the harsh mists of time. Though it's one of the older entries on this list (it came out in 2000) it has aged pretty well. A funny, lighthearted take on deep themes regarding the soul and one's purpose in life, it's a great film to bring you up if you're feeling lost and depressed. Just try not to spend too much time ogling Elizabeth Hurley's boobs.



Forgetting Sarah Marshall
Okay, there had to be at least one raunchy comedy on this list. Forgetting Sarah Marshall reflects a trend that I think genuinely needs to continue in romantic films: really gross humor. Because let's be honest, people are both complicated and disgusting, and getting into any relationship forces a person to allow their partner to see both their complications and their grossness. It's a real, vulnerable process. In addition, because the film features all kinds of hilariously distasteful references (including multiple instances of Jason Segel's penis, if you get the uncut version), this film tends to get written off as "stupid." However, the plot itself is a great look at how arduous a process getting over an ex is. It's got a lot going on beneath the surface view, and it's definitely worth a second look.


Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
Before the time of hipsters and emos, before Pabst Blue Ribbon sales exploded and wearing a scarf in July was accepted practice across all cultures, before horn-rim glasses, fedoras, and skinny jeans came roaring back into style, there was a brief window of time when the desire to find music outside the radio-friendly guidelines was a genuine cause, without the stigma of elitism attached. We genuinely wanted to find obscure bands and music, not because we wanted to be thought of as deep, cultured, and quirky, but because the music was good. Ah, what innocent times those were. Back in those days, if your favorite local band achieved success, you were happy for them, instead of complaining that they "sold out." I miss those days...
Anyway, Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist is about a quest to find the ultimate local concert, but it's also about growing out of old fears and habits to find one's true happiness. Plus, it's got Kat Dennings' luscious lips goin' on. Watch this movie.



Hysteria
The mostly true tale of the invention of the vibrator. Yeah, don't let the wee ones watch this one unless you're prepared to answer some pretty direct questions. It provides some nice historical insight to the psychology of the age while setting the scene for an adorably frank love story that you'll love... provided you aren't bothered by fairly straightforward and unabashed talk about sex. If you can put aside your reservations for a couple of hours you'll be delighted by this film.



The Invention of Lying
This film takes an interesting concept--a world without lies, fibs, or exaggeration--and explores it in an unexpected way. The comedic style is a bit more dry than most of the entries on this list, but I'd say that's a good thing in this case. It's very understated, but extremely entertaining.
I have to say, the casting is fantastic. That's what sold it for me. In a film like this, it would be extremely easy to overplay it, but everyone plays it straight, to marvelous effect. It makes for a very immersive world. If you'd like something a bit more quiet and intellectual for a nice evening in, this is the film to go for.



Knight and Day
Okay, I won't lie. Upon first viewing, I didn't really care for this film. I didn't hate it, I just wasn't super impressed. But here's the thing: this is the film that redeemed Tom Cruise. Remember how, at one point in 2010, it was cool to mock him for things like his dedication to scientology, his obsession with then-wife Katie Holmes, and of course the understated-but-present implication of closeted homosexuality that has chased him around since Top Gun? And then, suddenly, all those jokes just... went away. You can still mock him for any of those things today, but they're small, clearly tired "aside" jokes, no longer the robust pieces of Jay Leno's opening monologue (if , indeed, Jay Leno's comedy could ever be considered 'robust'). And how did that happen? Knight and Day. This film showed us that Tom Cruise can still act well in a film that is entertaining and over-the-top. The premise is completely unbelievable and ridiculous, and yet Cruise pulls it off. It may not be oscar-winning material or scripting but damn, he is fun to watch. And ultimately, isn't that what it's all about?


These are ten great (fairly recent) examples of films about love that have been overlooked, ignored, or simply forgotten. They cover the funny, fickle nature of love and romance in a variety of ways, each intriguing and amusing. Though I can't guarantee that you'll be able to make a romantic connection with their guidance, nor can I guarantee that any of us will find love and happiness in this cold, soulless void of a universe, I can provide reasonable proof that these movies can at least distract us from it for a little while. Good luck in all your romantic endeavors, comrades! I'm off to find bedsheets printed with Twister polka dots.

'Warm Bodies' Reverses the Zombie Trend -- Part 2 of 2

Part 2 -- The Love (or, Why We Hate Everyone, But Shouldn't)


 We’ve shown that society is ready to move on from the thought of a destructive apocalypse. So we decide, as a species, to get up and move into “action” mode: then what? What exactly makes this move special? And why does it have to be framed as a farcical zombie romance?
Of the many themes presented in Warm Bodies, I have to say the clearest are most certainly love related: love conquers all, fatal attraction induces change, working together creates strength, and let's not even get into the tantalizing Romeo and Juliet throwbacks everywhere. These are common themes, all done before, nothing extreme.

I find this amusing given the varying degrees of extremism in the film, both zombie and human. When the zombies choose to give up on clinging to their semblance of humanity they eventually decay into skeletal, ravenous monsters known as “bonies,” creatures who live only to consume anything with a pulse. As for the humans, the symptoms are less severe but when they give up on the world of before, opting only for survival and giving up on the “cure” for the zombies, they become battle hardened, stone cold survivalists, interested only in prolonging their own lives and the lives of their children or siblings. Both John Malkovich and Dave Franco’s characters are excellent examples of this. So on both sides there are clear extremes, extremes which are ultimately vilified on both sides.

And why? In the Hollywood system, zombie films have a very clear enemies and heroes. Action films do too, for that matter. So too do epics, thrillers, mysteries, and any other way one could frame an apocalypse scenario. To have more than one villain is to illustrate that situations involving people are invariably complicated. And what format is better to display the complicated interactions of humans (and former humans) than a romantic comedy?

By reframing our view of the apocalypse (a concept we’ve already gone over), Warm Bodies illustrates our changing view of "the masses" and our responsibility to one another as a societal whole. And thus we twenty-somethings begin to fully realize both our actualized potential and responsibility to the world. But in addition to forcing us to realize this, the film also provided a solution, one listed in the themes named above: love.

It seems pretty silly. These days, any answer to society’s problems in which the solution is “just love, man. Love each other,” involves way too many hippies, and not enough illegal substances, for my, or anyone else’s taste. After the many clichéd references to the Summer of Love it’s difficult for us to look upon the idea of loving one’s fellow man merely for the quality of being human, and nothing else, with disdain and distrust. We needed another way of framing it. We needed a way that wasn’t clichéd and tired. We needed it to be framed in such a way that we didn’t know we were being told to love one another. There are only two major times in which society has been told to love one another, one involved long haired, sandal-clad hippies, and the other involved the 1960’s and copious amounts of LSD.

…Do… do you see what I did there? I’m talking about Jesus. Jesus told us to love one another, but it took much much longer to figure out that, yes, for us to prosper as a species, we must learn to act in a manner outside ourselves as individuals and together as a whole.

The divide is pretty clear. There are those who choose to cling to religion (particularly, but not entirely, ruled by Christianity), believing that true Christians (or what have you) look out for one another, caring for each other in a cold, unfeeling world. They do what is right even if it’s not the popular thing, striving to stick together against all odds.

On the other side, there are the (nonreligious) lefties, believing that taking care of one’s fellow human is not just a volunteer effort; it is a requirement of humanity. They believe that they are the last caring piece of humanity, striving to put out a system with built in catches for those less fortunate every day. They are the last defense for the poor, the mentally ill, the weak, the old, and those who sometimes feel depressed.

Nowadays, it seems like humanity is at a clear split: the filthy freeloading liberals, and the tightass conservatives. So. Which side represents the humans? Think hard. Do you think you know? Really? Are you sure?

Well, you’re wrong. If you picked a side, you lost the game.  Warm Bodies takes that split and redefines it.

See, Warm Bodies is pointing out the very obvious flaw in our rhetoric today. It’s not about liberal vs. conservative, or religious versus non-religious. It’s not about Zombie versus human. The real necessity is for zombies and humans to band together against those who are, by design (not necessarily intent), moving in on our destruction: in this case represented by both John Malkovich’s character (as an extremist leader) and the “bonies” (as exploiters of the common good).

See, we needed a message that told us to love each other, not because of what we provide for one another, but because of what we bring to the table simply by existing, as human beings. We needed a way to frame the message in a way that didn’t sound too much like a hippie jam sesh. Yes, It is natural to want to exploit one another by taking everything one can, without giving back. Yes, it is natural to want to shut others out, defining anyone with a dissenting opinion or type as unacceptable. But ultimately, if we are to progress as a species, we have to stop giving in to these so-called “instincts.” We have to rise above and learn to love each other, the same as both Jesus and our hippie ancestors would. The only way in which we can increase the divides we see amongst one another is to continue to deny the bonds we share as human beings.

But of course, in the years preceding Warm Bodies, we couldn’t possibly realize this message. We were so wrapped up in our own cynicism, so busy preparing to deal with the ever-consuming threat of zombies, that we became slave to the very idea. We spent so long trying to avoid zombies that we became them ourselves. We didn’t care about each other, only about ourselves, and how to ensure our survival past 99 percent of the rest of humanity. “That’s not going to be me,” said literally everyone, watching a dead, shambling corpse shuffle across the screen. “I have a zombie plan. I have food and guns and supplies, or at least an inkling of how the apocalypse will go down. I’ll be better than everyone. I’ll be stronger, faster, and more fit for survival. I’ll manage the resources better. I’ll take everything and make it work for me.” I’ll take. I’ll consume. But we never took into account what would happen if we just stopped with the planning for ourselves while bitching about various political platforms and just started preparing each other.

If the extremes of both sides are the ones holding the power, it is the people in between who suffer. Just as the humans are bound by the protocol created by the battle-hardened, soulless humans, so too are the zombies ruled by the bonies, even though they have no pulse.

In our own ways, each of us is both human and zombie, controlled on both sides by those who exploit us and those who demand our acquiescence. These power-holders are each side of exactly what happens when we lose our ability to hope, our ability to care. I think the ultimate theme of Warm Bodies is that if we give up our ability to love both ourselves and one another, if we give in to the cynicism of the age and start polishing our shotguns with grim resignation, we are the ones who will be to blame for the apocalypse. Though it won’t be the kind of apocalypse we expect: instead of an end of society because of the decay of humanity, it will be an end to humanity because of the decay of society.

So, to recap: a farcical apocalyptic romance uses the teachings of Jesus and a rough approximation of socialist leanings to remind us that if we don’t love and tolerate the hell out of each other we’ll create an apocalypse from which we can’t escape. The moral of the story is, if you’re approached by a shambling moron in a stressful situation, don’t smash his/her brains out. It might be a learning experience.

Take That, Mayans! Warm Bodies Reverses the Zombie Trend

Part 1 -- The Apocalypse (or Lack Thereof)

Everyone who's hip with the internet jive is by now so tired of the mere idea of walking corpses that the thought of going to a movie theater to watch dead, shuffling masses is cause for near riot. Oh, and they're sick of zombie movies too.
So when the film Warm Bodies hit theaters, most folks were pretty skeptical. For those not familiar, I'll give you a basic rundown: Humanity has, for the most part, become zombified. But this film is different in that the zombies still hold on to loose facsimiles of their daily routines, just with more moaning and shambling about. In addition, these zombies are driven to specifically eat brains, because eating the brains gives the zombie a glimpse of their victims’ past memories. The film focuses on one young zombie, played by Nicholas Hoult, whose inner monologue orchestrates the film. When he eats the brains of one freedom fighter, he gains the poor guy’s memories including those of his girlfriend, fighting beside him. Stirred by these new feelings, the zombie goes in to put the moves on the gun-toting gal, played by Teresa Palmer. She responds by stabbing him in the chest. Romance ensues.
 I myself might not have bothered seeing it had it not been billed as an absolute mockery of the Twilight love story arc--A love between a supernatural male and human female, unsustainable and ill-advised, but unstoppable. And in fact, Warm Bodies does take a few moments here and there to poke fun at itself in self-aware fashion. The romance, however, is secondary to the theme. Though the dead-boy-meets-girl premise is what draws the audiences in, what causes them to stay is the absolute overturning of the genre.
To understand how the film does this, we have to go back and look at monster movie archetypes as a whole. This is a concept that has been repeatedly covered in depth, and so I'll just briefly touch on the main points. We know what each of the movie monsters represent: Godzilla represents a fear of nuclear weapons, King Kong represents our own hubris regarding the natural world, vampires represent fear of oversexualization of society, Frankenstein's monster and The Fly are a fear of technological advancement, and werewolves a fear of our own animal, violent tendencies. Zombies, of course, represent the most relevant fears of the age: overpopulation, homogeny, fear that our fellow humans will turn on us, and fear that our society will fail, quickly and unexpectedly, due to factors beyond our control in spite of technological advancement. Ultimately, it's a fear trend that can be seen through factors as broad as bipartisan politics or as simple as the increased gun sales of your local pawn shop. There are many factors involved but the ultimate indication as clear.
However, zombie films are different from the other genres, in that each of the others has experienced some kind of reversal. Think about films like Underworld, Daybreakers, Teen Wolf, and the 1998 Godzilla reboot. Think about television shows like Once Upon A Time and The Vampire Diaries. There are dozens of examples I could name, but the point is each of these movie monsters is in some way exonerated or expanded. The relative quality of the film aside, I remember feeling pangs of sadness when Godzilla and his (her?) babies were killed (even though half of Manhattan was destroyed) simply because rather than a destructive behemoth, this was a creature created by humans seeking to eke out its own living and have a family, a perfectly natural and understandable desire. Movies like Teen Wolf and Van Helsing show how misunderstood, yet useful, werewolves can be. Vampires, of course, have the largest plethora of reversal examples, from Blade and Vampire Hunter D to Twilight. Turns out we like sex... a lot.
But zombies are a set whose fears are difficult to reverse, simply because of what that reversal would suggest. First, it would suggest that most other people aren't horrible, not an easy concept in film. Second, it would suggest that we, as a society, needed some kind of reaffirmation that other people aren't horrible. That would indicate that our view of humanity would be pretty bleak indeed.
But aren't we forgetting how awful the last few years have been, in general? Five, even ten years ago it was easy to complain about "the masses," bitch about how stupid people were, and even use the term "sheeple" unironically. The economy crashed, politics became less about progress and more about winning, rational discourse showed itself to the toilet to be flushed. Trolling became not just accepted practice, but encouraged. It wasn't enough to say "we're growing more cynical," the motto of the time was "if you're not cynical, you're an idiot begging to be screwed by a population that is." That was around the time that young people around the world thought it was cool and quirky to begin designing "zombie plans," viewing daily society through all but the most cynical lens possible. In a post-9/11 world still feeling the sting of extreme security measures and not one but two unending wars, there didn't seem to be many bright spots and apocalypse seemed inevitable at some point or another. Society was sick, we reasoned. There was no quick and easy solution to fix it, and so it just seemed simpler to start from scratch. It seemed the only thing that made sense: Despite technology and science being at their height, nobody seemed very happy about it, to say the least. Rapture dates came and went like fashion trends; it was kind of inevitable to fall into an "all for naught" sort of mindset. "After all," we'd joke to one another, "the world's ending in 2012 anyway." And so we only let the problem fester.
And though no one (at least, no sane person) believed that December 21st meant the end of the world, it was almost as though the year 2012 was to be spent in a state of suspension, not moving toward any sort of great success, accepting failures quietly. It was a year everyone would have been happy to see walk out the door, had we been able to muster up enough energy to feel joy.
But, as December 21st came and went, so too did the haze of ennui surrounding the minds of American twenty- and thirty-somethings. Or at least, it began to.

It's a slow process.

As we realized we were still here, and here indefinitely, the lifeless minds began to stir, and hearts began to beat in rhythm with one another once again. Oh look, a parallel! But more on that later.
I predict a dramatic change over the next two years in terms of how our apocalypse movies are portrayed. Yes, there will be residual big-budget thrillers with the same amount of grating lassitude, the Hollywood film system is a slow lumbering machine at best. But we're humans, we're at the top of the food chain, inventors of the selfie, the Kickstarter, and the maple bacon sundae. We are way too varied and awesome to wallow in self pity like some sexless, drugless Foucaultian nightmare. Ultimately, I predict that future destructo-films will be less helpless desolation and more humanity pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, inventing some badass machinery, and getting the job done in a blaze of glory.

Incidentally, is anyone else really excited for Pacific Rim to come out?

Beautiful Creatures -- Girl's Worst Nightmare

This article has also been published at FilmPopper.com.

Ahh, the sexuality of a teenage girl, what a fine and fickle thing. Flitting from pretty boy to pretty boy like an experimental, yet volatile butterfly, the desire of a maiden is as volcanically repressed and variable as a snowflake. A snowflake butterfly volcano, if you will.

Let me clarify. Within many preteen girls (I daren't say all) sleeps a unique sexual profile. Sure, she may indulge in romanticisms, listening to boy bands sing her praises, dedicating a small shrine to whatever silver screen heartthrob is in the news, maybe even holding hands with that dreamy Josh Henderson in the hallways, because, OMG you guys! But ultimately, these actions result more from a desire to be perceived as mature than any sort of sexual urge.
But it doesn't last long. One day, that frozen cocoon bursts open, and in a great, fiery cacophony the sexually aware teenage girl is born, ready to wantonly objectify and lust after every male she comes in contact with!
That is, until the various powers that be surrounding her snap a cage down onto that persona faster than you can say "yaoi."
See, the silver screen has a bit of an interesting take on teenage sexuality. I, like many of you, can think of half a dozen comedies offhand that make some kind of lewd joke about a teenage guy and his relationship with his right hand. I can think of a dozen more whose main arc is centered around a teenage guy trying to have sex with a beautiful girl. Note, I said have sex with, not get into any sort of relationship with. We see that in film, male adolescent prurience is something to be laughed over, because hey, boys will be boys, right? Everyone knows once his biological clock ticks "on" his every waking thought will be consumed by scantily-clad supermodels, video games and food! Obviously this isn't giving teenage boys nearly enough credit, but we're looking through the eyes of filmmakers here.
Now, how many films can you think of that involve jokes about girls and their electric toothbrushes? How many movies involve getting a heroine into bed with her sexual conquest? (Really, how many raunchy comedies have a girl as the main protagonist at all?) The sexual development of a teenage girl, to a producer, really isn't something to laugh over. It's a social gray area, strange, unfamiliar, and even a little creepy. But, definitely easy to monetize.
It's a bit of an interesting double standard, surrounded by social stigma whose history is so long and tangled it would need a whole different article, if not a book. For our purposes, let it suffice to say that filmmakers don't make crude comedies about sexually frustrated girls because they're too busy making money off of supernatural romantic heroines who are sexually frustrated.
The film Beautiful Creatures, set to release nationwide as of February 14th, is just another in a long line of recent examples of this trend. Its clear ties to the oft-maligned Twilight Saga are clear and inescapable, though the implication the various film trailers give is much clearer on the subject of sex:



It's simple. If this girl has sex with this boy, the trailer implies, she will become evil and the world will end or fall into darkness. Now, before I have a gaggle of girls jumping down my throat and shouting about how that's not really the plot, the story is completely different and the characters are really deep, let me explain one thing: I don't care. I really don't. It's not about the actual plot of the movie, that part is secondary.
What's important is why the producers of these trailers think that the idea of repressed and unfulfillable sex would sell. The idea of some guy and some girl desperately wanting to dance the horizontal tango but barred by some irritatingly transparent macguffin of a plot, with some supernatural elements and Florence and the Machine thrown in for good measure, has been done so many times it's not even funny to parody it anymore. It's clear that most people are tired of this arc, and with good reason: the only thing more obnoxious than the hackneyed semi-goth pretension surrounding this movie is the font they used for its title.

Somewhere in Switzerland, an entire foundry of designers sits weeping.

What would possess any producer to make yet another one of these annoyingly sexless pieces of trash? And who would go to see it, knowing that any sexual investment they have in the characters will ultimately be made worse and go unfulfilled?
Producers and directors of these kinds of films are in a unique power position, one created by decades of complicated sexual dynamics. Thanks to the Sexual Revolution, today's adult woman protagonist  can engage in as many or few sensual endeavors as she pleases and, so long as she protects herself, emerge none the worse for wear in society's eyes (think Sex and the City, The House Bunny, True Blood, pretty much every romantic comedy ever).
But almost universally, the teenage heroine is haunted by a need to keep her virginity intact, despite frequent temptation. This would seem like an outdated idea, but recent filmmakers and authors have found a rather clever little loophole by making said virginity of tantamount importance, if secondary to the plot. Think about Twilight, the Hunger Games, or nearly any fairytale adaptation in the last ten years. Even more realistic stories like She's All That and A Cinderella Story are guilty of it, albeit to a lesser degree. "How can you think of sex at a time like this??" screams the film. "We have a competition to win, a witch to slay, a world to save! If you do it now your boyfriend will try to eat you! You'll be irrevocably turned to the dark side! You and all your friends will lose everything you've fought for! And everyone will HATE YOU."
By pitting the girl's sexual needs against all of her other needs (social acceptance, personal fulfillment, a world that isn't ruled by destruction) the film creates an interesting quagmire that seems like an awfully tough sell--but there is one ray of hope. This is the part where Robert Pattinson leans in close. "We can't do it," he whispers, "but you can be seduced all you want."
Yes, so long as the heroine doesn't give in to the pressures building inside her, she remains an integral part of the plot. And in fact, the longer she holds out despite being surrounded by some of the most beautiful manlings Hollywood has to offer, the more value as a human being she has. Really, the sight of Bella Swan holding out until sanctioned heterosexual marriage is just icing on the cake, because teenage girls are now the ONLY demographic segment filmmakers ever expect to remain sexless until marriage. And they use it very much to their advantage.
As a result, we have an entire generation of teen girls obsessed with seduction, who don't actually want to sleep with Taylor Lautner, they just want to touch him, or smell his hair. Or steal his running shoes. And because those actions are extremely creepy, everyone is allowed to mock and deride them for it. And so the tautology comes full circle: we treat the sexuality of teenage girls as creepy and weird, because they act creepy and weird, because we make them feel creepy and weird.
The only thing that would make this sick media fantasy complete would be to just come out and tell these girls outright that their desires are dirty and filthy, maybe punish them for even having a sex drive. Yeah, that's the ticket, punishment, like a spanking, maybe with a whip or a cane, and tie them up so they can't squirm, and--
Wait. Where have I heard this before?

Loop-de-Loop

I've developed this annoying quirk over the years wherein any sort of expository text in a film immediately draws  my intense scrutiny. It's part of the ongoing war in my head regarding the true nature of film and its purpose in our lives. See, I believe that text in a film can be a good way to clarify plot points and really cut to the chase, if used well. Yes, it's easy to abuse, but I think the late 90's to mid 00's taught us that too much exposition of any kind is just off-putting. However, I have spent so long with film professors and doctors poised over my head, hammering in the idea that "TEXT IS BAD, TEXT IS BAD, CREDITS ONLY, TEXT IS BAD" that I tend to automatically write off otherwise well-made films as no good, and worse, lazy. Really, this point has only been confirmed by many films which use text as a crutch, a way to throw in some kind of story element before showing you what they really want you to see, whether that be explosions or mockumentary footage or heartrending dialogue.
Films have less than three hours to cram in enough plot, dialogue, character development and location, along with whatever special flavor the director wants to add, to get our tiny brains to understand the story and why it's important. In addition, because there's money on the line, these films have to do all of those things well. For some films, there's often just not enough time to put in extra scenes detailing background facts, and while trying to expose them in tiny, cameo-sized pieces is often the best way to reveal, it can be confusing and is in danger of becoming overused itself. This often is because the plot takes a backseat to intense visuals and sweet action scenes.

So some time ago I went and saw Looper.




It's a film that heavily relies on expository text to identify time and place. However, the fast pace of the movie leaves no room for establishment scenes. The story moves like  water gushing from a broken dam, blasting its way through narration, text, quick cut visuals and sound. Now, I know you think you know where I'm going with this, so just hear me out.  Believe it or not, I'm not going to rip through this movie, complaining about its haphazard use of time travel and cheap storytelling methods; in fact this movie has my respect strictly because it uses all those things, and here's why.

Let's think about some great, fairly recent science fiction blockbusters whose premise involves some kind of as-yet uninvented technology that is widely accepted in one way or another: In Minority Report, Tom Cruise spends half an hour walking and talking us through the idea of using precognitive crack babies to prevent crime. THEN the story begins. In The Island, Ewan MacGregor and Scarlett Johannsen take almost an hour to get to why exactly having a sentient clone of yourself in the world is not such a great idea. And Prometheus, much though I love it for its own special reasons, spends the entire movie meandering around the very idea that draws us to it in the first place.
Here's why I like Looper, without giving away too much of the plot for those of you planning on RedBoxing it later. From the very opening, Looper sits you down in a chair and says, "Okay, look. Time travel has been invented. No. Shut up, don't think about it yet. Here's the thing, only mobsters use it. No, don't--It doesn't matter why. This guy's past self comes back, needs to get some stuff done, but Joseph Gordon-Leavitt can't let that happen--HEY! Fuckin', just pay attention will you? Now here's the crux of the thing..." You're trying to dissect the implications and mechanics of the time travel during the whole movie, but at the same time  the film is screaming at you that it doesn't matter, the story is what matters most.  This movie has a lot of themes--the importance of family, sacrifice, love, the impotence of revenge--and at the end of the day, that is what Looper is there to deliver. Not an endorsement, not compelling visuals or thrilling action; those things are just tools to keep us interested in the idea. The action is used like punctuation marks, making it all the more striking and terrifying. Looper comes to deliver a great story which is true in its themes, through a medium more effective than most. I can appreciate its use of shortcuts because of its honest dedication to story, character and theme.
Now this movie didn't win any awards and I'm not saying it deserves to. At its heart Looper is still a blockbuster action film only produced because it seemed commercially viable to some big wigs in California. But perhaps this thematic dedication will come to reflect a new trend in film, one in which plot and characterization take precedence over the temporal significance of fast cars, sexy women, hardbitten action stars with shotguns and glocks--



*sigh* Nah, I didn't think so either. But a girl can hope, right?