Showing posts with label Yoann-Karl Whissell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yoann-Karl Whissell. Show all posts

Friday, November 15, 2024

We are Zombies

That would be odd if everyone who had ever lived continued to exist until the end of time, spatial limitations and moribund immortality disproportionately confounding spiritual orthodoxies. 

Build up I say, like in Asia, unless you want one massive sprawling country, covering integral forests nationswide, with no room for resilient animals.

Has there ever been an animal zombie film within which not only humans nexercise livid purgatory, and everywhere you go every living thing that has ever existed regenerates evermore?

It could be related to a celestial deficit where living beings of all kinds are denied an afterlife, the gods furious or dismissive or bored and consequently no longer interested in accepting newcomers.

It could correspond to a disastrous future where ubiquitous pollution has destroyed the environment, while populations both living and dead continue to expand ad infinitum (there's an episode of Star Trek for that! [the expanding population not the pollution {Original Series}]). 

It wouldn't have to be on this planet it could be discovered by adventurers in space, who happen to be carrying a spiritual adviser with them who could slowly detect the absent celesticity.

In the end they could locate extant clerics still in possession of the ancient codes. 

To once again open the doors of Valhalla

And gleefully repopulate ethereal equivalencies. 

Condos etc. do seem like the way to go although they may not fit with many cultural narratives, wherein which vast estates and boundless lands occupy definitive prominent theatre.

Whatevs, apartments can fit so many more people and offer multiple stunning wide-ranging views, you can build up and up and up to reach haughty-high-heaven if you really want to.

It must be strange within however waiting for the elevator at times may be frustrating, and if they shut down for a long period of time that could be borderline life-threatening for older residents.

I suppose they would be so gigantic that they would be like small towns of their own, and develop unique genuine multiplicities generally attuned to elaborate social structures.

You could even incorporate dance halls with first rate acoustics and a lively theatre, thus creating self-sustaining enclaves with schools and shopping malls and medical centres.

Planet Zombie still a long ways off note the value of birth control and family planning.

We are Zombies isn't as cataclysmic as some.

But still showcases some classic carnage.

Disturbingly decadent!  

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Summer of 84

An innocent mind rationally filled with suspicion detects neighbourly crime in the Summer of 84.

With no condemnatory evidence, and only his teenage imagination to support his accusations, Davey Armstrong (Graham Verchere) must cleverly engage in covert ops, with a little help from his most trusted closest friends.

In an age synthetically flourishing (not) long before the world went viral, known to many as the most joyous wondrous adventurous decade in world history, complete with physical newspapers and programs regularly broadcast on television, the odd sensational headline grabbing everyone's critical attention, the foolhardy nature of which was lampooned by an aware North American public staunchly versed in peaceful collectivity, a Foucauldean analysis of the times notwithstanding, but things didn't seem so divisive back then, 4 teens set out to secretively prove wrongdoing, using (not so) ancient reliable methodologies such as activity based disguises (manhunt), maneuverable modes of transportation (bikes), non-electronic technologies (binoculars), and inclusive dialogues leaving behind no detectable trace (conversation), as investigatory aids.

The suspect: a police officer living alone within a suburban dwelling, highly respected by neighbourhood families, thought to be dependable for many untroubled yesteryears.

The love interest: in a plot development that's absolutely perfect, an older beautiful resident female (Tiera Skovbye as Nikki Kaszuba) takes a shine to inquisitive young Davey, who is eager to reciprocate her interrogatory mannerisms, much to the amazement of his incredulous retinue.

Classic nerd love (see Meatballs 3).

Conveniently introduced to defy expectations.

Throughout most of the film I was thinking, "okay, this is solid low-budget storytelling skillfully operating within realistically extraordinary circumstances supported by strong characters, music, plot developments, and historical fascinations, but where's the horror?, this seems much more like heavy teen crime drama than a horror film, or even a nail-biting thriller."

Note: ginger wasn't a widespread term in the 80s (in my neighbourhood anyways) and it wasn't so easy to watch a movie late at night in 1984 unless you actually had a VCR and were able to rent what you wanted to see at a local video store, which likely didn't own twenty to thirty copies, or it happened to be on television and your parents didn't mind you staying up to watch it.

But the horror kicks in big time near the end and its impact is much more terrifying due to the intensity of the unexpected shocks.

Actual frights as opposed to campy humour.

A local family also declares political support for a new candidate around the same time.

To learn more about additional related horrors, see Michael Moore's Capitalism: A Love Story.

Yikes!