The “Doc Of The Dead” Is Not Very Good; Also, Go Upstairs Dammit
The Doc Of The Dead is a documentary about zombies and zombie culture. If you think that second thing sounds interesting, maybe this movie is for you. If the notion of zombie culture makes you want to crawl out of your skin and melt on a sidewalk, I’ve got some perhaps unsurprising news for you: this movie isn’t very good, is generally not worth your time, and occasionally borders on the infuriatingly stupid. If you have the opportunity to watch it and really want to, fast-forward to the parts that involve Simon Pegg and George Romero. You can also watch the historical explanation of zombie films up to and including mentions of Return Of The Living Dead. Finally, the Red Letter Media clips are funny. Those parts are reasonably interesting. Then skip the rest.
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The local university’s student union showed the original Night Of The Living Dead when I was a teenager, my first knowing exposure to the zombie genre. I was hooked. It was a great movie and I was especially taken with the locality of it. It wasn’t shot too terribly far from where I was living, and everything about it screamed familiar, from the crawl at the bottom of the screen telling the fleeing where they could go to the overall geography of the place. This, for some reason, mattered to me. And it’s a great movie for other reasons too, including its portrayal of a black main character who isn’t a stereotype or a joke, but rather, just a guy who has found himself trying to survive. It was a big deal for any movie to feature a black man and a white woman and for it not to have devolved into racial ugliness. In fact, it just didn’t happen up until then.
But let’s get back to that trying to survive thing. Because the movie’s main characters find themselves in an isolated farmhouse with the dead slowly circling. That they’re slowly circling is its own problematic thing – contrary to zombie movie storytelling, there aren’t actually hundreds of people occupying every square inch of the world’s entire landmass (and, frankly, if zombies eat their victims, then figuring out how there are so many when they’re supposed to be devoured entirely after being bitten gets confusing too) – but best left to another day. Instead, all that matters is focusing on what the survivors do once they’re in the house: they defend the first floor.
This is dumb. And it is a problem that is replicated in zombie fiction after zombie fiction after zombie fiction, and as viewers, we’re simply supposed to go along with the notion that it simply never dawns upon our protagonists to minimize the amount of real estate that they’re choosing to defend. Here are some prominent examples of this madness:
Night Of The Living Dead
After its famous opening sequence – “They’re coming to get you Barbra!” – Night Of The Living Dead has Barbra flee the graveyard and find the seemingly abandoned two-story farmhouse She runs upstairs and discovers a woman’s corpse. It is a zombie? Is it a victim? It inexplicably never ends up mattering, because after Ben shuffles her back inside, nobody bothers to venture up the stairs again nor consider it as a possible place to hide. Instead, the trapped survivors debate staying in either the cellar or the boarded up first floor and, spoiler alert, everybody ends up dying, most because of the zombies, Ben because of racism. This is a great movie and continues to be as good today as it was when it was released but not going up is a problem. And it only gets worse.
Land Of The Dead
George Romero continued trading in zombie movies, long after NOTLD. The original Dawn of the Dead is one of the great zombie movie ever made. Day Of The Dead is also a movie with zombies in it, and, interestingly perhaps if you’re a huge megadork, it revisits the idea of living underground as long-term means of survival. Hint: it is not a good idea. Land Of The Dead is really, spectacularly bad. And it’s bad for all sorts of reasons, including its remarkably heavy-handed plot and its horrendous acting, but perhaps nothing is more stupid than the movie’s main character arriving at an uneasy distant peace with the zombies and declaring, “They’re just looking for a place to go.” Good point survivor human character!
Regardless, part of the film’s plotting is that human beings have set up a community in Pittsburgh’s remains, which includes one large building for the community’s rich residents. This would be the heavy-handed part. Meanwhile, the larger community is surrounded by water on two of its three sides and on that third, an electrified fence. Because, yknow, something or other. There’s no occupying the buildings, no anybody who apparently proposed defending only second floors and up. There’s only this rinky-dink electric fence surrounded by guards who take pleasure in watching the occasional shambling arrival get electrified.
Shaun Of The Dead
Shaun Of The Dead (SOTD) is the genre’s greatest films, mostly because it the best acted and best scripted of the bunch. It pains me to criticize it, as it is a fantastic movie. But as in most other movies, the characters make a planned decision to defend the first floor of a building that has a second floor, and predictably, they end up in terrible shape for the effort. Although I understand why the characters end up doing what they do – more on that in a minute – there’s still the nagging voice in the back of your head that screams, “Just go upstairs you idiots. You’ll be better off.”
The Walking Dead
The Walking Dead is awful for about a thousand different reasons, but among the most inexplicable is the steadfast refusal of characters to take advantage of the obvious defenses that they’re provided with. In the first season, they refuse to occupy buildings in Atlanta, because there are zombies down there, and so it makes more sense to the larger group of survivors to hide in the woods (no), create perimeters (no), defend those perimeters (no), and just keep moving (no, no, no). In the second season, the survivors reach a farmhouse where, again, it never dawns on anybody that they might be more safe if the only thing between themselves and the walkers was a single, blockable staircase, rather than the entirety of a huge old home.
But it’s in the third season where things get especially infuriating, as the survivors discover Woodbury, a few blocks of an old town that a crazed man called The Governor runs. Again, this village defends itself with a perimeter of semi-trucks and barely assembled walls and human guards, because to simply retreat to the town’s two-and-three-story brick buildings wouldn’t be reminiscent enough of what life used to be, or some similarly stupid justification for not doing the far more logical thing. NOT SURPRISINGLY, this defense doesn’t hold forever.
Second Floors
There are some movies that at least occasionally address this issue, if only barely. Dawn of the Dead, mentioned earlier, features its characters hiding out in a mall’s upper reaches (after inexplicably deciding that the four of them can defend the entirety of the building). 28 Days Later (which director Danny Boyle insists isn’t a zombie film, something he’s wrong about) does feature two characters living at the top of a high-rise. Even SOTD has a character point out that they’re better off staying in Liz’s apartment, advice he later dies for not having followed. In every situation, bad decisions undo their character’s perfectly reasonable accommodations, not the accommodations themselves.
Tropes
Look, I get it: horror movies have to have the kids split up, have to have the one girl go for the skinny dip, have to have boy try to fight back, etc, etc, etc. The stories necessitate impossibly bad decision by virtue of having to have the action actually occur. Smart characters don’t get caught up in the action. So we need our zombie survivalists to choose the first floor, because we would struggle mightily with the concept that a determined set of survivors couldn’t survive on a second floor if all that it necessitated was defending a single staircase.
But What About Living!
Sidenote: before anybody jumps up and down and acts as if the second floor is a trap which cannot be escaped, you’ll have to explain why the marauding zombie hordes have taken the time to destroy all ladders. Because that’s not something that the zombie myth has ever accounted for. In other words, I’ve never seen the following list:
1. Zombies are reanimated.
2. Zombies eat human beings/human brains.
3. Zombies hate ladders.
Trust me, I watched Doc Of The Dead. Perhaps nothing undoes the film more than this. In the blurring of reality between that which occurs on celluloid/digital and the actual real world where people live, we’re meant to believe that there is no difference between the two. Which means that we’re asked to take seriously real adults who live in the real world taking a zombie threat seriously. That’s fun as far as it goes, but would any of us listen to any friend of ours who went on and on and on about zombies without once mentioning that there might be other means of survival? Who acted as though our only options were variations on what we’d seen in the films? Of course not. We’d at least briefly think critically about the challenges we face. And since zombies can’t climb, we’d think seriously about a life spent above the Earth. Rather than on it. Or worse, below it.
(Thanks to the Smithsonian for the picture. Which I stole.)
At least the Zombie Survival Guide gets it right.Report
The thing that is interesting about subcultures in general is how tropes that are endlessly amusing to insiders can easily bore those who don’t care as much after a while. Like the zombie apocalypse memeReport
Agreed.Report
Let’s see if this fixes the italics problemReport
Sam left a open tag in the OP, fixed.Report
Sorry. (I didn’t even know that anybody had posted on this. Usually I get messages in my inbox that “such and such has commented on your post” but I didn’t get any of those this time. I thought I’d wrote the flopping-est 1500 post of all time.)Report
Look, I get it: horror movies have to have the kids split up, have to have the one girl go for the skinny dip, have to have boy try to fight back, etc, etc, etc. The stories necessitate impossibly bad decision by virtue of having to have the action actually occur. Smart characters don’t get caught up in the action.
I’d argue that they don’t, really… they don’t have to have bad decisions (in the sense of “stupid”) in order to have the action occur. Think about Aliens. There were stupid bad decisions, but they came after a series of ruthlessly sociopathic economic decisions went sour. If Paul Reiser’s character hadn’t been greedy, the whole thing wouldn’t have unraveled.
I’d argue that the better horror movies rely more on bad decisions coming from a collusion of stress and previously made not-as-bad decisions with a dash of the sunk cost fallacy and the not as good horror movies rely on increasingly bad (as in stupid), or just vanishingly improbable bad decisions.
Like, really, if you shoot the guy in the mask six times in the body and once right in the center of the mask, it’s not stupid to turn your back on them. Guy’s gonna be dead.
But it’s so much easier to come up with a way to move the plot forward if you don’t bother to construct backstories that can explain why characters make decisions that *lead* to circumstances where they make bad decisions. You know, you have all that character development time, it cuts into the gore on screen and stuff.Report
Or even better, have characters make smart decisions based on the info they have. The choices might not work out, but only because of other smart choices or because of info they didn’t’ have.Report
“Or even better, have characters make smart decisions based on the info they have. The choices might not work out, but only because of other smart choices or because of info they didn’t’ have.”
Agreed, and as Pat notes above, Aliens (and Alien) are perfect examples of having smart and competent characters making choices that turn out to be bad ones only because of incomplete info, or earlier events unknown to them (or characters like Ash and Burke, working at cross-purposes to the heroes unbeknownst to them.). And they are great movies for it (Aliens in particular is good about, every time the characters seem to have made the right call to get the hell out, jerking the rug out from under them again, through no fault of their own. The mounting disasters in that movie have a symphonic build to them.)Report
How did Paul Reiser go from making Aliens and Diner to making Mad About You and that really sappy and bad movie about divorced dads?Report
He didn’t have Barry Levinson to write Mad About You (which I liked the first few seasons of, and which, even when it lost its freshness, had the sense to hire guest stars like Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner and let them take over the show.)Report
What really annoyed me about Shaun of the Dead was how oblivious so many characters remained for so long. That was supposed to be part of the humor and parody of it all but if I was Shaun, I’d want to give his best friend and mother a good shaking at times.
Lots of zombie and horror movie fans seem to accept the fact that the main character aren’t thinking with full faculties pretty easily. Most of them are probably cheering on the zombies or the monster and hoping that as many humans get killed in spectacular ways as possible. Its kind of frustrating for me because I like it when characters act with common sense and a bit of strategy if not intelligence. I’d really like a zombie or horror movie where some decent self-survival common sense paranoia kicks in. Its what kept us alive for so long.Report
“What really annoyed me about Shaun of the Dead was how oblivious so many characters remained for so long. That was supposed to be part of the humor and parody of it all but if I was Shaun, I’d want to give his best friend and mother a good shaking at times.”
I agree. It was funny when Shaun walks past the zombie and blows him off as if he were a panhandler, but once the situation was know, there should have been a lot of face slapping to get people sane. However, I guess I has ignored this figuring that city dwellers would be so conditioned to “wait for the professionals” that they would effectively be rendered helpless and unable to save themselves.Report
I think that, in some sense, Shaun of the Dead suffers from not being Hot Fuzz.
By that, I mean that Pegg/Frost have serious geek credentials and love of the source material, and they are great at taking the mickey out of people. And when they made Shaun, it was a pure deconstruction of the whole idea, taking no prisoners at all. To the point where post-Shaun zombie films have to do something to distinguish themselves(*).
Plus, while it’s uneven, and in some ways unsatisfying, there are pure gems embedded in it – I’m thinking in particular of the scene where Shaun stumbles out of his flat to the store and back in exactly the same way he’d done earlier in the film – and not noticing at all that the zombie apocalypse had happened.
Pegg/Frost gained more experience, in no small part in making Shaun, so Fuzz is a much more nuanced(**) treatment of the genre… Deconstructing tropes in parallel to the main character’s slide to his personal heart of darkness – then gleefully reconstructing them stride by stride as the main character becomes a hero in his own way.
What we want is for Shaun to be for zombie flicks what Fuzz was for buddy cop movies, but it unfortunately didn’t happen that way. If the order had been reversed, Shaun might well have nipped the current zombie fixation in the bud, and Fuzz would be a cute little movie that was about as good as Beverly Hills Cop II(***).
(*) The TV Trope for this is “Our Zombies Are Different”.
(**) Did I really just use “nuanced” in reference to a Pegg/Frost film?
(***) I don’t make that comparison lightly, I think that Cop II is criminally underrated and might actually be a better movie than Cop I.Report
I’m just tired with the general cluelessness of many characters in horror movies. There are some good reasons for this. Many of the characters are going to die before the movie ends so you can’t have them be too intelligent or savvy or the survival rate is probably going to be higher but it just seems like lazy writing for the most part.Report
Lee,
Dr. Who at least had reasons for people dying — “you, guard our flanks” — well, the monster is Down There, so UhOh.Report
I didn’t mind Doc of the Dead as much as you did, I found it diverting enough. I hadn’t known that Romero didn’t set out to make a zombie film and wasn’t trying to codify any particular rules that are supposed to apply to zombies. He called the reanimated creatures “ghouls” during the production of NOTLD. I thought the running debate about slow zombies vs. fast zombies was kind of amusing, and I liked that most of the interview subjects in the film didn’t take any of it too seriously.
What’s much more interesting to me about these types of films-about-films (or films-about-genres/sub-genres) than discussions about what the ostensibly human characters do and how they behave are discussions about what these fantastical creatures represent, their appeal to audiences, how has that changed and what their appeal says about our culture. Doc of the Dead was decent on that score, again without taking itself too seriouslyReport
And why weren’t the Resident Evil movies included in this topic?Report
Because they’re dumb.Report
I must be missing the same thing about zombies that I miss about comic book characters and old, bad, TV shows. I mean, WTF makes one movie about them every few decades insufficient?Report
Insufficient for what?
Again, IMO the more interesting aspect of Doc of the Dead than what Sam focused on is why zombies?, and to a lesser extent, why now? In their contemporary form, they are almost wholly invented by writers and filmmakers. The documentary goes into a little of the history of zombies and roots in voodoo, African diaspora culture, their relationship to slavery, etc., but none of that informs much of what contemporary depictions of zombies represent to audiences. As I mentioned, Romero didn’t even conceive of his creatures as zombies while making NOTLD. He didn’t set out to write the rules for what zombies can or can’t do; unlike with vampires or werewolves or mummies or ghosts, there were no long-established rules to play around with, not many themes to come up with variations of.
So relatively speaking, in the canon of western supernatural horror creatures, zombies are the newest addition, which means there is a lot of room for experimentation. They also provide an antidote to the glamorization of the resurrected, at least for now … until Stephanie Meyer gets her hands on them. Zombies don’t sparkle, they don’t look like Patrick Swayze, they aren’t romantic heroes. They are simple-minded, virtually brain-dead monomaniacal creatures of rotting flesh. For now, they’re primal, driven by instinct. They represent some aspects of humanity we’re not necessarily comfortable with.
I suspect that 100 years ago or more, the contemporary conception of zombies would have held little interest for audiences because people were much more accustomed to dealing with the aftermath of death. We have sanitized the process to the extent that many people have probably never seen a dead human body, and many more have never smelled one that hasn’t been embalmed. The concept of Memorial Photography seems downright ghoulish to people today, yet was popular from the development of photography into the early 20th Century. Now imagine those beloved corpses posed so lovingly reanimated and out to eat you. That’s why there’s more than one movie every few decades.Report
Much of our actual zombie culture dates back to the Black Death. We aren’t using zombies the way the Vodun do — it’s more seen like a plague, that spreads through biting.Report