Zombies are the New Black
Written by A.K. Steinhoff

On the whole, a zombie is not a likable creature, mostly stemming from their desire to eat the flesh and or brains of humans (or the rest of us.) I would argue, however, that even if they weren’t constantly chasing us through the streets, grubby blood stained fingers clawing at our supple limbs, drooling bile from every orifice, I would still not invite them over for dinner. Or trust them to feed my cat while I was away on vacation. Or let them hang out in a room directly adjacent to the one I was in. Let’s face it. Zombies are gross. I don’t care how many teen zombie romance books you’ve read where the girl falls in love with one. Not going to happen. Zombies = gross.

But somewhere, amongst all that rancid undead meat, is something truly magical, and often hilarious. For example, take the new movie Zombieland that came out this past month, written by Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick and directed by Ruben Fleischer. The trailer might suggest to you good people it is nothing more than a graphically violent, low brow comedy starring Woody Harrelson and the awkward older brother from the Squid and the Whale (Jesse Eisenberg). Not so, America. Not so. Zombieland is all that and more.

For starters, the movie had me cracking up before the opening credits finished rolling. Not just a quiet chuckle, but a full out obnoxious shriek of amusement, the sort that makes the guy in the row behind you snort with derision. Well, too bad pretentious movie patron. The laughter would only continue, stopping only to morph into amused groans when some zombie lad or lass would feel the need to rip out an intestine.

        Set to the backdrop of USA ravaged by a zombie disease, the film follows the travels of Columbus, a hapless nerdy youth, and his cohort Tallahassee, the redneck maestro of zombie killing. Kept alive by a set of simple survival rules (one is always wear a seatbelt,) Columbus searches for his family back home, not knowing if they’ve joined the undead ranks, or became their dinner. Tallahassee, on the other hand, just wants a Twinkie, and to beat the crap out of some walking dead. Along the way, they get their guns and car stolen not once, but twice by the beautiful but broody Wichita (Emma Stone) and her younger sister Little Rock (the eternally adorable Abigail Breslin) No one calls each other by their real name, lest they get attached and then feel bad if they get infected and have to blow their zombie brains out.

Columbus and Tallahassee are just two guys looking to survive in this new zombie infested world, and yet in spite of the abundance of hilarious pratfalls and shoot outs, they reveal themselves as serious dramatic characters. Harrelson, who has in the past proven himself adept in both comedy as well as drama, (this man did get an Oscar nomination for the People vs. Larry Flynt, mind you,) lets loose just enough painful emotion over his lost family to lend the film substance. On Eisenberg’s end, even if you can’t relate to a zombie apocalypse, everyone knows what it feels like to be young and hopelessly in love. At its core, the film is as much about the importance of family and human relationships as it is about clever catch phrases and masterpieces of gore. It never strays into the melodramatic, nor does it put off more sensitively minded with excessively grotesque fonts of undead refuse. How a film could manage to work in both a half naked zombie stripper and meaningful character development, I’m not sure, but Zombieland pulls it off. If that isn’t enough of an incentive, go see it for the best cameo since Tom Cruise in Tropic Thunder.

Yet, even when zombie films fail to hurdle that typically low bar of quality control, something keeps bringing the audiences in. Be it a brilliantly clever dark comedy (Shaun of the Dead), a cult classic (Night of the Living Dead) or a modern campy knock off (Zombie Strippers), audiences love the undead. George Romero made an entire career on zombie films, only to reinvent the genre in the 2000s.

It’s not just in films either. More and more zombie themed titles are finding their way into bookstores, and not just in the science fiction sections. For the traditionalist, there’s Max Brooks “World War Z,” a sort of compilation alternative history, detailing through personal accounts of a past zombie war. Humor enthusiasts might know him better as the writer of the Zombie Survival Guide. If comedy is your bag, try “Breathers,” a humorous novel where zombies are simply social pariahs who attend self help meetings and discuss their issues on Oprah. For the literature scholar, thanks to a new series of publications called ‘quirk classics,’ there is “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.” Children will delight over the madcap series “Zombie Butts from Uranus.” No joke. And remember earlier when I was joking about the zombie romance novels? Don’t believe me? Google “Generation Dead.” Or better yet, go to your local book store and take a quick peek at the teen fiction wall. You might have to sift through the teen vampire romances, but it’s there. (Hopefully pushing out the teen vampire romances.)

So why are we obsessed with living corpses? Many film theorists (and we all know how much stake I put in their words of wisdom) argue that if you examine the horror films of any time period you can see what it was that era most feared. Stories of undead monsters, full of unnatural desires who defy the basic principals of life, span the gauntlet of time and occur in a multitude of cultures. Is it a deep seeded psychological fear of what lies within all of us, what we might become, or do we merely like watching zombie heads explode when you put a bullet in them?

Perhaps it is as simple as this, that the world is united in our hatred of zombies, and our love of seeing them shot, beaten and generally butchered into pieces. Decapitations are a bonus. Zombieland had none of these, but Tallahassee does beat one particularly fat chap to death with a banjo. We like watching others get their throats ripped out and chewed on, because that means one less zombie chasing after us, at least not for the time being. In the meantime, you might want to check out Zombieland, pick up Brooks’ survival guide, and head over to the gun range. Consider it research. Or practice.