Does this wedding veil make my butt look big?
A female zombie, in wedding veil and filched golden wig, galloping, metaphorically speaking, through the dusky forest with chainsaw in hand, gunning it for all she’s worth, in pursuit of the young man caught in the bear trap.
This classic scene, one that I’m sure haunts all horror afficianados, is the very essence of … The Video Dead (1987).
I must admit, I came to this movie with a bar so low even Stephen Hawking, famed wheelchair-bound victim of ALS, could have bounded over it with ease. And I expected The Video Dead still might trip over that bar.
And I was quite wrong. It outleapt Mr. Hawking.
Before we all become far too excited, I’ll admit there are problematic facets to this movie. The camera work is fairly amateurish, as is some of the acting. The action scenes are a mishmash of adequate and, well, they were at least smart enough to not try some of the more difficult effects. A little audio, maybe some debris, time to move on.
But the zombies themselves are interesting. Good solid makeup. I haven’t kept up with the general sociological development of the zombie community (outside of one superb Minnesota Fringe Festival show exploring the social life of zombies), so perhaps this is not all that new – but these zombies had vanity. The aforementioned stolen wig, hats and glasses, and even a group interested in dancing, all showing they’re more than just murderous creatures from another dimension.
But that they are.
And then there’s the story. On the one hand, the acting dulls some of the more subtle edges, and the characterization is somewhat hit & miss. But when it hit, it did well. Case in point is a character, seen once on a B&W television, named the Garbageman. He delivers a frightening warning to the viewers of the TV show, hitting the timing perfectly to come across as a battle-weary veteran of the zombie wars.
And just what’s going on? A TV is misdelivered to a residence, where it powers itself up and begins spitting out zombies. The lone resident is summarily butchered, but the zombies disappear. Six months later, the house has been sold and a brother and sister, barely adults, are prepping it for their parents. The TV, sitting in the attic, lures the young man upstairs. Zombies jump out and attack, but he escapes in a marijuana haze, not believing what has happened.
Neighbors are not so fortunate, finding various ways to be offed by the invaders, but a man from Texas shows up looking for the TV; before long, he and the annoying young man (his voice inflections were wretched) are on the hunt for wandering invaders, who are really driving down home values. Eventually, the young man is used as bait in a most amusing way, and the slaughter of the invaders begin.
And goes awry. This plot has twists and turns, although they’re not really symbolic of anything, which is a bit disappointing, but are good if you’re indulging in some sort of game during the show.
In general, a movie that disrespects its story really annoys me. Any story has rules – bad stories break them. They’re both spoken and unspoken, but they form the backbone by which people can measure their own responses to exotic situations; by breaking them, they lessen the importance of the viewer’s tentative reactions (see here for more on the survival facets of story telling), and thus dull the story in the eyes of the audience.
And, in this respect, the story really follows through. Several constraints are stated at the outset, and they are scrupulously followed by the movie makers, making for a rather delightful approach to the ultimate elimination of the zombies roaming the forest.
In the end, though, complications ensue, and a predictable ending brings the movie to a close.
I think what we can say about this amateur hour effort is that there are actually some good bones to the story, but it’s hampered by technical problems, and the story could have used a couple of more drafts to hone it. But the humor made me laugh, and I had to admire the fidelity to the precepts of the story.
Good try, guys.
And I particularly enjoyed the David Bowie zombie. Rarely do I see such emotion in a zombie.
