By Jeremy Hannaford (Contributor) – Email
Print Edition: July 3, 2013
There is a reccurring circumstance that must be accepted by the viewers for every zombie film or television production: the fact that the characters will make very, very, very stupid decisions. They are either suffering from extremely limited peripheral vision (something badly done in The Walking Dead, I believe everyone is suffering from extreme cataracts) or they are so lead-footed, they must hit any and all objects around them when they are trying to sneak around zombies.
This has prevented me from fully enjoying a majority of zombie films because I can’t accept how absolutely brain dead these people are (pun intended). But in World War Z, it is the zombies that are truly stupid – not in terms of actions but in how they are integrated into the story.
World War Z as an adaptation had issues from the beginning and it doesn’t help that it veers heavily away from the novel written by Max Brooks. While I understand the frustration of fans, trying to make a film that retells stories through interviews with no main characters would have been a difficult and lengthy narrative.
So we’re given Brad Pitt instead, who goes on a worldwide search to find the origin of the virus in hopes of finding a way to stop the zombie outbreak. What really happens is that he arrives in a safe community just before something disastrous happens – over and over again. This repetitive plot has some intense moments but the originality wears down quickly. There is so much focus on destroying the next city that many characters in the film are never given names or true purposes other than creating exposition.
For a zombie film, World War Z is probably the cleanest of the lot. With a PG-13 rating, it feels like you are watching an intense Chanel No. 5 ad. The lack of gore really takes away the nostalgic zombie-feel from the film; such is why they went with the fast zombie archetype. Without scenes of people being devoured, director Marc Forster tries to increase the intensity with the zombies running like raved animals. Danny Boyle was able to keep 28 Days Later believeable because of its script and interesting virus concept, but World War Z just pushes it too far. For instance, after scaling a wall outside Israel by literally crawling over each other, the zombies fall over 50 feet into the city below. They then get up and start attacking people. No matter what you say about zombies feeling no pain, when you fall 50 feet, your body isn’t going to be able to run on shattered bones.
There are many scenes like this where the filmmakers must believe that the audience is so thick, they won’t notice how absurd the zombies are. As long as it looks cool, it’s entertaining, but for the most part the imagery just looks plain dumb.
Having a less-than-stellar track record with action films (Quantum of Solace, Machine Gun Preacher), it’s a bit confusing why Pitt chose Forster to direct. He puts too much focus into trying to build up action sequences that he forgets what they are meant to be establishing. He also fails to realize the impossible situations this film asks its audience to believe – especially when it comes to the final act. The absolute absurdity of the finale has Damon Lindelof’s disheveled penmanship written all over it. Much like Prometheus, unanswered questions—like how a fast-acting zombie virus can cross oceans without anyone knowing about it—are justified as mystery and suspense. But in reality, it’s just poor writing.
While there are a few nods to the novel here and there, especially with how Israel sets up their defensive measures, World War Z fails to grasp the meaning of the book. The idea of humanity struggling in terms of government, economy and survival are swapped out for Olympic sprinter zombies who leave very clean bites.
While the action sequences are decent to watch, I couldn’t let myself enjoy them because I was too distracted by how weak the story was. Others may be able to forgive this point, but if that is the case, then World War Z is asking for a lot of forgiveness.
