Most people don't believe something can happen until it already has. That's not stupidity or weakness, that's just human nature.
World War Z
(2013)
(SPOILERS) Summer 2013 has proved unfortunately consistent in one key respect
so far; movies have engrossed and enthralled for the first half-to-two-thirds
of their running time, only to fizzle into narrative incoherence or
disappointment during the final act; Oblivion,
Star Trek, Man of Steel, now World War Z.
Only Iron Man Three is left standing
proud. It is never less than apparent that WWZ
is no more than a string of well-executed set pieces; an increasingly familiar
rendition of the apocalypse on an enormous scale, but with absolutely nothing
new to say about it. But it’s still something of a miracle World War Z is as good as it is, given the turbulent production
history and its director’s lack of distinction in the action department.
Of course, summer action movies aren’t renowned for social
or political commentary even if they are often ripe for discovering such
(unintended) subtext. One could even argue that the zombie movie, which under
George Romero provided some of the horror genre’s most overt texts for such
analysis, has been exhausted of merit. Zombies are just zombies now, validated on the basis of the number of humans
they can eviscerate and the amount of blood they can splatter across the
camera. There’s no room for the reflections on Vietnam or consumerism found in
the earlier films. In a postmodern landscape we have reached the point where
the meaning of the undead is the artifact of their undeadness, and their modern
incarnation, enabled with a turn of speed, is surely a reflection of this
understanding. They have been rendered shallow and purely aesthetic; devised
for maximum shock value.
Zack Snyder’s remake of Dawn
of the Dead was remarkably effective, for all it’s literalness (the mall is just a mall), particularly in the
opening stages of the outbreak; there’s a real sense of an inexorable acceleration
towards the end of the world during the scenes before a temporary safe harbour
is reached. Snyder’s running zombies took their cues from Danny Boyle’s low
budget 28 Days Later (or rather, not zombies but those infected with the
“Rage” virus), an effectively relentless little movie. The social allegory of 28 Days is of the most obvious kind
(unsurprisingly, since it was written by Alex Garland, known for his subtlety),
to the extent that you could argue that any zombie/apocalypse movie is a social
allegory by definition. These scripts write themselves, so even if your
societal collapse is entirely derivative of other movies depicting societal
collapse (a pastiche) you can still claim to be of social relevance.
28 Weeks Later is
arguably an even purer synthesis of the modern zombie movie; it opens with its
focus on the rot at the heart of family life (Robert Carlyle bitches out and
leaves his wife to a zombie death) in an astonishingly effective nightmare
sequence. But, after nursing the theme of mistrust and betrayal for a period,
it steadily deteriorates into standard shocks and gore.
The latest zombie success story is The Walking Dead. Its an ever-expanding cable phenomonon it seems, but the (for TV) fresh horror trappings belie an extremely traditional core structure (admittedly, I haven’t yet seen Season Three) of soap opera melodrama and inaction; as long as you can punctuate that standing around with a zombie every forty minutes or so, you’re sitting pretty. It doesn’t really matter that the storytelling has hardly moved on from your typical ‘70s TV show.
One aspect of The
Walking Dead to note is the producers’ (whoever they are this week)
disinterest in exploring the cause of the outbreak. To an extent that’s understandable;
they’re focussing on the remnants of humanity and the disintegration of
society; shifting to solving the problem would make it a different show (24 with zombies?). As it is, the
structure is really not that different to Terry Nation’s ‘70s virus series Survivors (and the recent, merely
okay-ish remake). Just with a bit more flesh tearing.
Does this mean there’s nothing left to say in the genre? Possibly it does, at least on the societal angle. All that’s left is the bleeding obvious. One thing I Am Legend got right (and it got a lot of things wrong), at least in the early stages, was that it told the story not of the breakdown of society but of the disintegration of the mind and spirit of one man. Without a distinctive idea for end-of-the-world movies you’re left with perfectly serviceable button pushing; stir-and-repeat fare that becomes cosily familiar in spite of its apparent intent to evoke fear and dread.
That could be why the reaction of those I saw WWZ with was first and foremost one of
weary predictability; the word “bored’ was even uttered. My response was more
positive, and I had a good time with it for the most part. But I too was left
feeling a little deflated come the end, as if something was missing. It’s not the
absence of gore, as that’s not really my thing (but I do get that it might be a
deal breaker to gore hounds, and an unforgivable sin to show zombies without
it). No, it’s the lack of inspiration.
The current trend with the apocalypse, be it on TV or film,
is predicated on a number of rather tiresome interpretations. From post-9/11
angst (surely an event that has been used to manufacture and manipulate fear in
one form or another far beyond its natural lifespan) to the post-crash
exhaustion of capitalist western society (and all we know and hold dear), it’s
all rather over-familiar. The problem is that, whilst any given event or
circumstance will inevitably feed into a culture’s surrounding art (if you wish
to label it that), tales of the apocalypse are invariably saying the same thing
in a slightly different form to each successive generation. That’s why there’s
a clear connecting line between end-of-the-world stories post-WWII (post-the
atomic bomb) and beyond (be they in the horror or science fiction genre).
Nothing especially new is being said,
but every couple of years we like to reconsider our fears as if these portents
have a fresh, marked significance right at this
time. In reality, much of the appeal of the apocalyptic scenario is that we will be one of the chosen, one of the
survivors, and the solace we take in the end-times comedy of 2012 or the stop-the-contagion of WWZ is that we might be the
indestructible John Cusack or Brad Pitt.
Nevertheless, it seemed to me going in that there was a sufficiently distinctive premise
to base this movie on, and the trailers had whetted by appetite. So it’s
disappointing that, in the end, this potential is squandered by a confused
narrative, one that leaves the filmmakers missing the wood for the trees.
The writing credits for WWZ
testify to its turbulent transition to screen. J. Michael Straczynski wrote the
initial adaptation of Max Brooks’ novel. He was then rewritten by Matthew
Michael Carnahan. Finally Damon Lindelof and Drew Goddard came in to reframe
the third act (Christopher McQuarrie also did some uncredited work). The Vanity Fair piece is illuminating on the troubled production but Forster’s waffly comments on making a blockbuster with
substance highlight how ignorant he is of the history of the zombie genre; he assumes
that his facile ideas for it were somehow original and compelling in their own
right. Straczynski, a smart guy who occasionally gets carried away (see Babylon 5 for both his best and worst
moments) was amusingly dismissive of Forster’s pretensions when he commented
that all the director wanted was a big, dumb action movie with huge set pieces.
Which is a pretty fair summary of the finished film. It
seems that Carnahan’s draft settled on the final structure, following Brad’s
Gerry Lane as he searches for the cure (and as a consequence eviscerating the
spine of the novel). It also comprised the originally shot final act which,
even in summary, sounds like a complete disaster; Lane ends up in Russia,
leading a slave labour force to overcome the zombie hordes and establish
himself as some kind of arse-kicking messiah.
So the additions devised by Lindelof (for all the flak he
gets) and Goddard make a lot of sense. It’s interesting to learn that the key
establishing scene of Lane and his family at breakfast was one of their
additions. It’s an easy-going and naturalistic introduction to our protagonist,
and it’s vital in holding onto his motivation during the spectacle that follows.
So much so that one shudders at how thin Pitt’s character must have felt in the
first cut. The spectre of I Am Legend is
brought to bear in terms of the original idea of Lane as a zombie nemesis; mythologising
the hero’s credentials. But Will Smith’s character was informed by loss, shame
and regret; there’s none of that in Gerry Lane.
Lindelof and Goddard also made it vital that Pitt should be
reunited with his family at the end. It’s a choice that makes sense but, as it
appears on screen, is rather perfunctory. That Forster chooses to finish on a
freeze frame, one of the ugliest and most clichéd of devices unless you really know what you’re doing, suggests
to me his heart wasn’t really in it. The Vanity Fair piece indicates that he
wanted to keep the family separate; apparently he went with the really shitty
idea of Matthew Fox’s character – who we see for about two minutes in the movie
- holding the family hostage as the set-up for a sequel. The preservation of
the family unit is such a familiar peg to hang a movie on (of whatever genre)
that it can hardly be called inspired on the part Lindelof and Goddard;
commonsensical perhaps, in order to save a sinking ship (The Walking Dead centres much of its (melo)drama on the erosion of,
and attempts to cling on to, family values.
The alternative to the “straightforward everyman doing it
all for his family” restructuring would surely have been to follow through with
the real meat of the premise which, as someone who hasn’t read the novel, seemed
to make it distinctive; finding “Patient Zero” and discovering source of the
outbreak. A less steroidal, more procedural approach, requiring investigation
and the pursuit of well-conceived leads (more in the manner of The Andromeda Strain, Outbreak or Contagion) might have enabled the movie to hold its head up as
distinctive from the rest of the shuffling/legging-it zombie fraternity.
And it looks like it might achieve that during the early
stages, right up until the virologist manages to shoot himself in the head.
It’s a darkly amusing moment, but one that unwisely begins to pile on the
all-purpose capability of Gerry. Not only can he handle himself in a tight
spot, but he now also assumes the mantle of offering insights into the virus
that elude the general scientific community. Additionally, this heralds the end
of the investigatory aspect of the film. Gerry travels on to Israel from South
Korea, but Patient Zero is cast by the wayside. I suspect this is a consequence
of Hollywood’s frequently kneecapping desire for instant franchises; save the
discovery for a sequel. But it’s final nail in the coffin of any aspirations to
“substance”.
Straczynski’s complaints about Forster’s take on the
material are perhaps most singularly evidenced by the form the movie’s zombies
take. If the approach of the blockbuster is to stage spectacle on an
ever-larger canvas, it’s an inevitable that once shambling antagonists, who had
already metamorphosed into talented sprinters, are now hyper-kinetic forces of
supernature that can build “human” ladders up the steepest of walls. They’re
now an unstoppable insectoid army. Visually, this is an arresting sight (as
seen during the Israel sequence) but it’s further evidence of a thought process
operating from the outside in. As I said, I have no issue with the absence of
grue but it certainly reinforces the feeling that WWZ has been so purpose-built and streamlined that it is shorn of
any hard edges. The attitude is; a PG-13 (although tellingly a 15 rather than a
12 in the UK) is designed to encourage the widest possible audience, so who
cares if the results disgruntle the very vocal horror faithful?
Yet, for all the advanced bad press and the fears that this
would be a horror movie without any balls, there appear to have been relatively
few voices claiming it is outright terrible. Even aside from the watered down horror, I was
expecting Forster to make a right botch of the action (how could he not, given
the incoherence of Quantum of Solace?).
So it’s a pleasant surprise that the tightly wound set-up only begins to
unravel after a sterling first hour.
The outbreak in Philadelphia is skillfully escalated, even
if it is very resonant of the flashbacks in I
Am Legend. And Forster manages the ebbs and flows between mass street
carnage and claustrophobic panic on stairwells with seamless aplomb. The “lives
of you and your family are only valuable if you’re useful to us” message, once
they are evacuated to a naval ship, is refreshingly blunt. And the subsequent
trip to South Korea continues to ratchet up the tension. James Badge Dale is
making something of a thing of showy cameos at the moment. The resigned, stoic
remnants of the army base that Gerry encounters, and then flees, serve to build
on the oppressive atmosphere. But the seeds of the less inspired course the
film veers off down are also rooted here. Gerry encounters a toothless CIA guy who
conveniently directs him to Israel when Patient Zero proves a dead end. The
idea of the entire population of North Korea extracting their teeth to prevent an
outbreak is an arresting one but, like so much else here, the original concepts
are left in embryonic form while the formulaic ones take precedence.
Come Israel, and it’s another example of an impressive idea
that someone hopes no one will really scrutinise. The Israelis, in a remarkable
feat of forearming, have built a huge wall to hold back the zombie
legions. As a nod to the unlikeliness of
this, Gerry quizzes his Mossad contact. He recounts the report of an outbreak
in India that referred to the undead. It seems that a system of “Ten Men”
operates. This requires the other nine men listen and respond to the most
unlikely possible scenario that it is the responsibility of the tenth man to
espouse. In this case it’s the theory that the reports were accurate and there are zombies. And this system is, of
course (Hollywood cliché), informed by the hardships encountered historically
by the Jewish race. Indeed, this felt like such
a silly answer that I wondered if was intended as a sop to Gerry’s line of
interrogation. Maybe the Israelis had some actual insight they were choosing
not to reveal. It seems not, and that it’s just bad writing.
This seems to be further confirmed when the streaming undead
hordes very conveniently overcome the Israelis’ previously impervious defences.
Extraordinary that it happens as soon as Brad shows up. It’s also a real blow to
Arab-Israeli relations that, just when it seemed they were finally getting
along, the very thing that brings them together (uniting in a sing-song) should
cause their downfall. I’m not sure what the
intended reading of this should be, but given the infantile content of
Carnahan’s script for The Kingdom it
wouldn’t surprise me if it were a message that, no matter what, peace in the
Middle East is a non-starter.
If the Israel sequence works on a visceral level but not on
a narrative one, the rest of the film draws from the same well. The zombie
outbreak on a plane (in the pre-reshoots cut it lands safely in Russia) is both
gripping and deliriously silly (setting off a grenade and sucking all the
zombies out of the fuselage; really?!) And it leads to a final sequence at a W.H.O.
research facility (in Wales of all places).
The pullback in scale works in favour of Pitt’s character
and provides a close-up on the zombies themselves (for which Forster previously
shown reticence). Yet it all feels rather predictable; well staged, but the
film has already fallen victim to one too many breaks in the tension, which cumulatively
allow you to start thinking about how none of it quite holds together. It’s
wearily inevitable that Brad will test his theory on himself. And Brad's rather mundane realisation further
underscored my disappointment at the ditching of the pursuit of Patient Zero. His
startling hypothesis isn't really all that (The
X-Files' Leonard Betts,
basically) and as I suggested earlier, it’s difficult to conceive that some actual scientist, somewhere, wouldn’t have
thought of it first. In and of itself the sequence is effective, but it’s an
attempt to fix the film by covering it in bandages rather performing extensive
surgery.
Despite an undernourished character, Brad holds the film
together by dint of sheer star wattage. Gerry is grim faced and remarkably
resilient, as the incident on the plane evidences. The issues are more in the
formulation; one man to save the world lends itself to hyperbole, whereas a
team striking off at different tangents and towards different locations in a
quest for answers might have benefited the story on any number of levels
(parallel escalations, the tragedy of losing a beloved supporting character,
etc.) Consequently, the other characters all struggle to make an impression.
Daniella Kertesz does best as an Israeli soldier who accompanies Gerry during
the last leg of his trip. Mireille Enos has the thankless “wifey on the phone”
role, while Peter Capaldi holds back on the expletives as W.H.O. doctor.
As might be expected, there’s not much in the way of humour
(the employment of bicycles as stealth vehicles and the Pepsi product placement
both raise a chuckle). So it mightn’t have been the best idea to have the
zombies repeatedly clacking their teeth; rather than proving unsettling it
elicits mirth. It might have been intentional
(since it’s difficult to conceive that no one on the production pointed out the
comedy value, although with Forster anything’s possible), but it definitely
dissipates the tension.
Marco Beltrami’s score is hugely important in tonally
informing the movie. Beltrami takes as his cue Isolated System from Muse’s 2nd
Law album, and it drives events with a haunting yet purposeful melancholy.
Not that I’d want to compare the two films quality wise (where would you even
begin?) but I was put in mind of the use of Tubular
Bells as the informing theme for The
Exorcist (appropriately, I’ve just saw Brad Pitt on YouTube making that
very analogy).
So I’ve been critical of World
War Z, but more because I enjoyed the film and felt it had the potential to
be really good. I had a similar
response to another much-vilified blockbuster roundly rejected by devotees of
the novel on which it was based, I Am
Legend. By dint of reshoots, WWZ manages not to degenerate into a knuckle-dragging Rambo version of a zombie movie. But neither is it able to muster
the resonance that Straczynski attempted to invest in his drafts of the
screenplay.
***1/2