At certain times of the day, we are all Zombies

 

 

 

 

 

Barbara is beginning to look like a Zombie, and it doesn’t suit her.

It’s nothing to do with me – I mean, I haven’t bitten her or anything (as if I would). It’s our daughter Pittsburgh.

Fact: most people you meet – especially in the morning – who look like Zombies are unlikely to be Zombies. They’re just parents of a young child – or children. Or they’re insurance salesmen.

These pale, gaunt, and half-alive people are not looking for a feast of brains; they’re just desperate for a good night’s sleep.

Pittsburgh is the alarm clock from hell. She turns up every morning in our bedroom, between 5 and 6, tugging at our bedclothes saying “wakey wakey”. We don’t NEED to be up at that time – nobody needs to be up at that time. Particularly at the weekends.

I worry that someday, when news gets out that there is a Zombie in our house – namely, me – then  an exhausted Barbara could run the risk of getting her head blown off one morning as she leaves for work. I could easily see our neighbour Paddy doing it, though apart from that he is a very nice man.

It’s happened before – at least on film. In Night of the Living Dead, Ben, who has heroically fought off a Zombie attack through a long night, emerges at dawn from behind the barricades, relieved that he has survived. Unfortunately for him, the sleepless night has made him look pale, tired and drawn: in other words; a bit like a Zombie. Along comes a couple of red-necks with rifles and guess what they think he is?

Bye, bye Ben.

That said, the similarities between parents in the morning and Zombies has its advantages.

Were it not for this quirk, I would not have been able to attend parent-toddler groups, where my undead status has never been an issue. I guess I just look normal to what the rest of them see in the mirror every morning.

Mind you, they do think it weird that I do not partake of the free tea and biscuits. But I’m too polite to ask for brains and I was never too fond of Fig Rolls even when I was alive.

Posted in Zombie Parenting | Leave a comment

The Dark Knight Rises? No he doesn’t

Rather surprisingly, and given the endless rain of the preceding few weeks, it’s been a hot few days in Dublin. This brings out the worst in me; namely, maggots and bluebottles. As my flesh starts to rot in the noonday sun, the smell emitted attracts the most unwelcome of slithering, slimy lodgers. Yesterday afternoon, I plucked two bulbous worms from my armpit. Cheeky buggers. I may be dead, but I am not in the ground yet.

To escape the boredom of steaming, decomposing flesh, I went to the cinema. Amid the smell of hot buttered popcorn, nobody seems to be bothered by my rancid odours. Besides, I knew the screening would be near empty because we Irish have been raised to believe that when the sun shines we need to “get out and enjoy it while it’s there”. Otherwise, we will suffer eternal damnation. You can see now why we have the highest cinema attendance in Europe.

The only thing I really knew about The Dark Knight Rises is what I saw in the brilliant trailer, which was operatic and epic in its tone and sets you up for a profound denoument to the trilogy.

Pity the actual film turned out to be shite.

On a positive note, there is just enough of interest in the movie to keep your mind occupied for the two-and-a-half hours that it runs. Bottom line:  if, like me, you’re a decomposing member of the living dead trying to avoid the burning heat of the sun, you could do worse than pass a few hours in the cinema watching this film.

For the cineastes out there, or those who just like a good argument, here’s why the film annoyed more than it entertained:

1.     No Zombies in it.

2.     The exact end to the film is telegraphed right from the first few scenes. It’s downhill after that.

3.     A lot of the dialogue is muffled and unclear. What I’ve read puts this down to the main baddie – Bane – wearing a face-mask. But he’s not the only one who is hard to understand.

4.     Bane’s voice is so obviously post-produced. You never get the sense that what we hear was spoken on the set. The producers should have watched The Humungus character in Mad Max 2 to see how to do this properly.

5.     I know I shouldn’t be one to talk about looks, but Marion Cotillard and Anne Hathaway don’t look beautiful – even though we know they are. Cotillard (so ravishing in Inception) has all the glamour of a washer-woman and Hathaway looks as though she’s been squeezing blackheads from around her lips.

6.     The story constantly shifts not from A to B, but rather A to Z. This is time-saving, but plain lazy and leaves the audience asking obvious, logical questions.

7.     The lack of direction of the extras. Remember those James Bond films of the sixties where, in the climactic action sequence, the good guys attack the bad guys and the latter just stand there, waiting to be beaten? Same here. At times, it’s quite astonishing. You’re being attacked by 5 people and you don’t react – maybe because you’ve read the script and know you’re going to lose the fight anyway?

After seeing The Dark Knight Rises, I went home and watched a Canadian exploitation film (I’m going through a phase) from the seventies called Death Weekend. I remember seeing TV trailers when I was just a child, with a burgeoning interest in action/horror film.

Here’s the astonishing thing: Death Weekend is brilliant on every level when compared to the new Batman film. It does exactly what it sets out to do: it builds tension slowly and methodically and leaves the viewer unsettled and a little shaken. The acting, while not exactly Oscar-worthy, is totally apt for the story and the situation.

Clearly shot for peanuts, Death Weekend  was made by people with craft, skill and an awareness of audience intelligence and needs. Yes, it’s awful too, in the way that only exploitation films can be. And no , it does not deserve a prized place in your DVD or Blu-Ray collection. But neither does The Dark Knight Rises.

Now back to counting maggots….

Posted in Zombie film critic | Leave a comment

Even Zombies get the blues

I’m sorry that I haven’t made an entry for a few weeks, but I haven’t been feeling very well. I had the flu or a virus – something that made me sneeze a lot, anyway. You have no idea how messy it can be when a Zombie sneezes: snot, blood and body parts everywhere. Politely saying “excuse me” hardly seems adequate.

Thank God we were able to put Pittsburgh in the crèche. Her nagging at me as I cleaned up the projectiles that issued from my nose and mouth would have been just too much to take. That said, she liked to play with the snot and blood I expelled – and really saw no difference between it and the hand paints she normally uses to make a mess.

I felt really down when I was sick and wallowing in my misery.

One day, Barbara came home after a hard day’s work at the office and, as I flicked TV channels, I moaned, “Is this what life is all about?”

“Yes,” she replied, dropping the shopping to the floor as she manoeuvred the pram in through the front door, “But what have you got to complain about – you’re dead.”

“That only means, unlike you, I don’t have the option to kill myself.”

“Well, you could try,” she said.

“I need to go wee-wee,” said Pittsburgh.

Neither of them know what true suffering is.

Posted in Zombie Parenting | Leave a comment