3.5 stars. Rated R, for strong bloody violence, relentless profanity, drug use and sexual candor
By Derrick Bang
Director Ruben Fleischer made an impressive big-screen feature debut with 2009’s Zombieland, applying his snarky sense of humor — honed by television work alongside Jimmy Kimmel and Zach Galifianakis — to an equally outrageous script from Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick.
 |
| Temporarily without wheels, and now saddled with the bubble-brained Madison (Zoey Deutch, far left), our heroes — from left, Wichita (Emma Stone), Columbus (Jesse Eisenberg) and Tallahassee (Woody Harrelson) — ponder their next move. |
They also were blessed by an impressive cast, although that wasn’t entirely obvious at the time: Woody Harrelson (one Oscar nomination, two more to come); Abigail Breslin (still riding high on her Oscar nomination for Little Miss Sunshine); Jesse Eisenberg (not yet a breakout star, one Oscar nomination to come); and Emma Stone (also not yet noticed, with a Best Actress Oscar to come).
The result was an outrageously tasteless and frequently hilarious take on the whole zombie phenomenon: a thoroughly successful American response to Britain’s equally outré Shaun of the Dead.
Indeed, Zombieland was so successful that it begged for a sequel … but then, well, Eisenberg and Stone became rather famous. And quite busy.
So here we are, a full decade later, and the question is obvious: Can lightning strike again, after so much time has passed?
Answer: certainly.
Mind you, we’re talking about an “out there” level of success. This franchise is a guilty pleasure at best, thanks to a mutilated and blood-splattered level of gore commonly associated with George Romero’s more serious — and similarly gruesome — Living Dead entries. The faint of heart and easily offended are advised to steer veryclear.
As for the rest of us … what can I say? We have sick minds. (I make no apologies.)
The same period of story time has passed for veteran zombie hunters Tallahassee (Harrelson), Columbus (Eisenberg), Wichita (Stone) and Little Rock (Breslin). They’ve set up housekeeping in the White House, where its priceless historical relics are treated with varying degrees of respect or contempt. The quartet occasionally ventures outside to hone essential survival skills, by blasting, slicing, dicing and stomping modest staggers of zombies.
Eisenberg once again supplies necessary back-story and running voice-over commentary in Columbus’ insufferably nerdy (but always amusing) manner, while reminding us of the inexhaustible list of rules that have kept their little gang alive: Limber up, to prepare for the inevitable running away; the Buddy System, to watch your back; the Double Tap, because one shouldn’t be stingy with bullets; and — most important — Never be afraid to ask (scream) for help.
While Columbus enthusiastically reminds us of these essential commandments, they also appear on-screen via playful text animation: a sight gag that never gets tired.
The long-suffering Tallahassee, more a seat-of-the-pants warrior, always finds Columbus a motor-mouthed pain in the ass … but a useful one, nonetheless. A longtime loner at heart, Tallahassee is reasonably comfortable with plenty of “alone time,” and he delights in being uncouth and profane — at which Harrelson excels — simply to annoy the absurdly prim and proper Columbus.
Columbus and Wichita, meanwhile, have become An Item.
Which leaves poor Little Rock feeling rather lonely, because — well — she isn’t so little any more. As she repeatedly reminds Tallahassee, who continues to hover like a helicopter parent.
On top of which, a decade of isolated ennui occasionally broken by episodes of sheer terror makes even the best of friends and lovers somewhat cranky. The story’s quest element kicks into gear when Little Rock takes off with newcomer Berkeley (Avan Jogia, appropriately zoned out), a neo-hippie pacifist who entices her with stories about a non-violent commune dubbed Babylon, where residents live in peace and (frequently stoned) bliss.
Rest assured, scripters Reese, Wernick and Dave Callaham intentionally poke fun at these naïve, tree-hugging peaceniks. They’re an easy target (although Victor Rivera’s “bearded guy” is more annoying than amusing).
But the humor at their expense is nothing compared to Zoey Deutch’s laugh-till-you-gasp performance as Madison, an utterly clueless, air-headed mall rat who appears to have wandered in from 2001’s Legally Blonde. She’s delightfully, dazzlingly dense, and Deutch’s vacant slow takes are to die for.
Which prompts Tallahassee to mutter, “Zombies only eat brains. She’s got nothing to worry about.”
The subsequent road trip detours to Graceland — Tallahassee being a longtime Elvis fan — where the cast expands by three more improbable survivors: Albuquerque (Luke Wilson) and Flagstaff (Thomas Middleditch), whose appearance and behavior give Wichita a severe case of déjà vu; and the stubborn, self-sufficient and impressively lethal Nevada (Rosario Dawson, oozing sexual tension).
Some of these additional characters are cleverly utilized; others are little more than a one-note joke.
A decade’s worth of observation has allowed Columbus to group the zombie population into three evolving sub-classes: the “Homer,” overweight, slow and dumb as rocks; the “Hawking,” still possessing enough intelligence to outsmart most victims; and the Ninja, a quiet, fast-moving stealth zombie.
Although our heroes dispatch plenty of Homers and Hawkings, they never encounter any Ninjas … which begs the obvious question: Why bother mentioning them?
Unfortunately, a new class has just arisen, which Columbus dubs the T-800: fast-moving, destructively relentless, and almost impossible to kill in any traditional manner. Which means, of course, that we can expect the story’s third act to involve an apocalyptic onslaught from these horrors.
Fleischer and editors Chris Patterson and Dirk Westervelt don’t disappoint.
Production designer Martin Whist has a field day with numerous massive sets, most notably the partially destroyed White House and the huge Babylon enclave, the latter resembling a Burning Man construct writ very large. Even the incidental post-apocalyptic details are effective, such as the damaged road signs and derelict buildings passed along the way.
Costume designer Christine Wada also has a lot of fun with Madison’s hot-pink wardrobe.
The new characters aside, Fleischer and his writers don’t vary the formula that worked so well in the first film; ergo, this sequel doesn’t feel as “fresh” or unexpected as its predecessor. But it’s no less audaciously cheeky and gleefully ghastly, and I’ve no doubt the first film’s fans will find this one just as entertaining.
Oh, and don’t abandon your seat, when the end credits begin to roll. They stop fairly quickly, for a truly outrageous flashback sequence.
No comments:
Post a Comment