sorry, this is not a good film. simply setting up a bunch of people for violent, miserable death and torture, zombie has no tale to tell and no point to make. as far as i remember nobody survives, not that it matters, which seems to be the point of this childish, inept exercise in ersatz nihilism. (actually, i may be wrong there... can't quite recall, but isn't there some hulking deformed fellow who comes to the director's wife's rescue and then... ohh, i really can't be bothered.) a lot of superannuated infants would have one believe that this film is 'sick' and 'depraved' to it's credit. it's not. while it is definitely deserving of both those adjectives it is still no good whatsoever.
torture, humiliation, smashed-in heads and a clattering, numb-skull soundtrack might be your delight, i don't know, but i hope it isn't, for your sake. and naming these things as credits is just silly.
it's a film that makes you feel bad, not for it's characters but for the world we live in and that we will be shortly leaving to our children. a world where watching supposed versions of ourselves being ripped apart, both literally and figuratively, is regarded as entertainment.
horror has a place, sure, and good horror films are good films first. that they horrify means they've succeeded, but they have to have quality in the first place to do that. merely dealing out death and misery and pouring cancerous moral bleakness into our parietal lobes succeeds in nothing but fulfilling only the needs and curious desires of those blank-headed children mentioned earlier - the ones who slow down to see who got caved in in a multiple pile-up but who would, presumably, prefer not to suffer the indignity of being the crushed person being so voyeuristically studied.
don't ask me what makes a good horror film, specifically - if i knew that i would be making one rather than typing this - but it's clear for (nearly) all to see what makes a bad one. this film could be a textbook for those looking to do just that.
but do go see it if you like this kind of thing. it is, after all, aimed directly at you.
torture, humiliation, smashed-in heads and a clattering, numb-skull soundtrack might be your delight, i don't know, but i hope it isn't, for your sake. and naming these things as credits is just silly.
it's a film that makes you feel bad, not for it's characters but for the world we live in and that we will be shortly leaving to our children. a world where watching supposed versions of ourselves being ripped apart, both literally and figuratively, is regarded as entertainment.
horror has a place, sure, and good horror films are good films first. that they horrify means they've succeeded, but they have to have quality in the first place to do that. merely dealing out death and misery and pouring cancerous moral bleakness into our parietal lobes succeeds in nothing but fulfilling only the needs and curious desires of those blank-headed children mentioned earlier - the ones who slow down to see who got caved in in a multiple pile-up but who would, presumably, prefer not to suffer the indignity of being the crushed person being so voyeuristically studied.
don't ask me what makes a good horror film, specifically - if i knew that i would be making one rather than typing this - but it's clear for (nearly) all to see what makes a bad one. this film could be a textbook for those looking to do just that.
but do go see it if you like this kind of thing. it is, after all, aimed directly at you.