2/9/15 (Part Two): Between a Russian and a Hard Place

Tags

action-horror, auteur theory, Ørjan Gamst, Best of 2014, Charlotte Frogner, children in peril, Christian Wibe, cinema, co-writers, dark comedies, Dead Snow, Dead Snow 2: Red vs Dead, Derek Mears, Dod Sno, English-language debut, Evil Dead, extreme violence, favorite films, Film auteurs, film reviews, films, flashbacks, foreign films, gore films, Hallvard Holmen, Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, horror franchises, horror-comedies, Ingrid Haas, Jocelyn DeBoer, Kristoffer Joner, Martin Starr, Matthew Weston, Movies, multiple writers, Nazi zombies, Nazis, Norwegian films, Peter Jackson, Russians vs Nazis, sequels, special-effects extravaganza, Stig Frode Henriksen, Tommy Wirkola, Vegar Hoel, voice-over narration, writer-director, zombie hunters, zombies with weapons

At one point in Tommy Wirkola’s Dead Snow 2: Red vs Dead (2014), intrepid American zombie hunter Daniel (Martin Starr) turns to our put-upon hero, Martin (Vegar Hoel), and tells him, “I’ve seen thousands of zombie movies and this is not in any of them. You’ve created a whole new genre here, man!” Wirkola might not have invented a whole new genre with Dead Snow 2, per se, but he certainly seems to have perfected the one he’s working in: in every way, shape and form, Wirkola’s long-awaited sequel to his outstanding Dead Snow (2009) is top-shelf entertainment, 100 minutes of pure, unadulterated zombie-killing bliss. Bigger, better, funnier and more explosive than the original, Dead Snow 2 is that very rarest of sequels: it takes the original film, turns it up to 15 (sorry, Tap: this amp is way louder) and gives fans every single thing they wanted, along with lots of things we didn’t know we needed. I hate to draw a line in the sand but here goes: Dead Snow 2 is the single greatest Nazi zombie flick in the long, storied history of moving pictures. Wirkola has done it again.

In a stroke of pure genius, Dead Snow 2 picks up from the very shot that ended the first film, providing one of the very best examples of continuity possible (even more impressive when one considers the five-year gap between the films): all of the principal crew return, along with the previous film’s Vegar Hoel, allowing both films to dovetail as neatly as possible. After escaping from the villainous Herzog (Ørjan Gamst) in a white-knuckle car chase that culminates by introducing the undead commandant to the front grill of a speeding semi (right after he loses his saluting arm), Martin crashes and wakes in the hospital.

Afforded a little breathing space, Martin notices two things right off the bat: he’s handcuffed to the bed and he appears to have a new right arm. A nearby police officer cheerfully lets Martin know that they suspect him of massacring all of his friends from the first film, while a doctor cheerfully tells him that they found his severed arm in the vehicle and decided to reattach it. That’s right, folks: Martin’s new right arm is Col. Herzog’s old one! Faster than you can say “Evil Dead 2,” Martin’s possessed arm is killing the living shit out of everyone around him, forcing him to go on the lam.

As Martin tries desperately to control Herzog’s murderous limb, the undead Nazis rampage across the countryside, slaughtering dozens of unsuspecting civilians at every turn, only to resurrect them as additional zombie soldiers. Herzog’s army grows ever larger and it seems that all might be lost until Martin gets an unexpected call from the Zombie Squad, an American team of professional zombie hunters (according to Daniel): they’re heading across the world to help bail him out and squash the undead Nazi threat once and for all. As we see, however, this group of “professionals” actually consists of Daniel and his two friends, Monica ( Jocelyn DeBoer) and Blake (Ingrid Haas): they operate out of Daniel’s basement, have arguments about the merits of Star Wars vs Star Trek and have, to the best of our knowledge, never actually set eyes on a member of the living dead.

We don’t get to pick our heroes, however, and it soon becomes apparent that Martin, the Zombie Squad and new recruit, Glenn (co-writer Stig Frode Henriksen), are all that stands between the unsuspecting citizens of Norway and an honest-to-god Nazi invasion. When the chips are down, however, Martin will be forced to rely on a rather unorthodox solution: he’s going to have to use Herzog’s arm to resurrect the slain members of a rival Russian POW group. With undead Russians on one side and undead Nazis on the other, however, Martin and his team will quickly learn that leaping from the frying pan to the fire is a mighty fine way to get burned. Will they be able to stop the zombies in time or is the entire world on the cusp of a terrible, bleak new dawn?

As someone who absolutely adored the first Dead Snow, I’ll admit that I was more than a little nervous when I first sat down to watch the sequel: after all, this could only be a disappointment, no matter how small, and actually ran the risk of affecting my positive feelings towards the first film. Turns out I should have had a little more faith in ol’ Tommy: not only is Dead Snow 2 not a disappointment, it’s actually one of the very best films of 2014, horror or otherwise.

The key to the film’s success comes from amplifying those elements that really worked in the first film (the over-the-top action setpieces, the sly humor) and downplaying or eliminating the elements that weren’t quite as successful (namely the fact that Martin is kind of a drippy hero, for much of the film). While the first film had plenty of creepy, more traditionally horror-related scenes (such as the outhouse stalking), Dead Snow 2 is almost completely action-oriented. There are plenty of scenes devoted to zombie mayhem, don’t get me wrong, but nearly all of them are pitched as frenetic, over-the-top action moments, rather than more traditionally “scary” ones. Some of the best scenes in the film are the impossibly mean-spirited ones where the zombies rampage through veritable mobs of innocents, dispatching them in some truly inventive, eye-popping ways. Nothing’s sacred in the film (literally, as one of the plot points involves killing and resurrecting a priest), which anchors the film completely and totally in “early Peter Jackson” territory. From the gag where a tank rolls over a sandbox full of kids to the one where a zombified Nazi guts someone, uses the intestines to siphon gas out of a car and then gives a cheerful thumbs-up, Dead Snow 2 practically holds up a banner that says “Anything’s possible” and dares you to think otherwise.

In fact, this element of “anything goes” is one of the most intoxicating aspects of Wirkola’s film: there’s invention, originality and individuality to burn here, yet it always feels like the biggest surprises/delights are still over the horizon. By the time we get to the resurrected Russians, a ridiculously thrilling fight atop a moving tank and the simply fantastic finale (featuring, quite possibly, the best use of Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” that anyone could come up with, ever, period), the film feels like it’s going to keep piling on badassitude until our collective heads explode. This is the kind of film where the final credits roll and you realize that your chest hurts because you’ve been holding your breath without realizing it.

As with the first film, Wirkola and Henriksen’s script is rock-solid and almost impossibly funny: they’ve doubled-down on the number of gags in this go-round, gifting us with classic moments like the one where Herzog tries to Sieg Heil without his missing arm, the outrageous scene involving Martin and the kid in the hospital that manages to be horrifingly hilarious and some truly inspired bits involving a friendly zombie (Kristoffer Joner) that manage to one-up Bub in every way. The film is a lot funnier than the original, yet still manages to deliver plenty of hardcore/badass moments: the bleeding stained-glass windows as Herzog strides into the church deserve to be iconic and the scene where Daniel turns into a full-on zombie slaughterer is a real thing of beauty. As with the first film, Wirkola perfectly melds the horror and humor: this time around, everything just hits harder because it’s all so much better. Talk about a success story!

As with the first film, Dead Snow 2 looks and sounds absolutely killer: the effects are all top-notch and, with the exception of a few dodgy CGI blood shots, look as real as they need to. Acting-wise, the sequel is head-and-shoulders above the original (which was, itself, no slouch): besides the reset of Martin as a more traditional hero (ala Ash), we also get the always reliable Martin Starr as Daniel; another great, silent turn from Gamst as the vile Herzog (he really gets into the character this time around, giving us a handful of scenes that do the impossible and almost (just barely) begin to humanize the monster) and the brilliant addition of Hallvard Holmen as the impossibly obnoxious Gunga, a rural police chief who’s half-way between a Keystone Kop and James McAvoy’s repellent Bruce from Filth (2014). DeBoer and Haas are quite wonderful as Daniel’s perpetually feuding cohorts (DeBoer’s “May the force be with you” is a definite highlight) and Henriksen is equally great as Glenn: the scene where he, singlehandedly, stands up to the entire Nazi battalion is pure poetry and a real fist-raiser.

I’ve always enjoyed Wirkola’s films (I’ve seen the original Dead Snow quite a bit in the five years since its release and I seem to be one of the few people in the world who really enjoyed Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)) but there’s no denying that Dead Snow 2 marks a new evolution in his filmmaking. At this rate, Wirkola stands a very good chance of becoming the reigning clown-prince of horror-comedy: the level of polish and quality here is astounding. With one foot firmly in the outrageous gore comedies that influenced him (those looking for the red stuff need not fear: Dead Snow 2 is, quite possibly, one of the most splatterific films since Romero’s unassailable Dawn of the Dead (1978)) and the other in the kind of bright, big-budget multiplex fare that have always been anathema to “real” horror, we might be looking at the next, great “uniter,” similar to Edgar Wright. With a sequel to Hansel & Gretel in the works, I’m willing to wager that Wirkola plans to take his game to the next level. Bully for him: as a die-hard member of Team Tommy, I, for one, cannot wait.

2/9/15 (Part One): Stay Frosty, My Friends

Tags

Ane Dahl Torp, Army of Darkness, auteur theory, Ørjan Gamst, Bjørn Sundquist, cabins, Charlotte Frogner, Christian Wibe, co-writers, Colonel Herzog, dark comedies, Dead Alive, Dead Snow, Dod Sno, Einsatz, Evy Kasseth Røsten, favorite films, Film auteurs, foreign films, friends, gore films, Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters, horror franchises, horror movies, horror-comedies, isolation, Jenny Skavlan, Jeppe Beck Laursen, Lasse Valdal, Matthew Weston, Nazi zombies, Nazis, Nightmare City, Norwegian films, Peter Jackson, ski vacation, Stig Frode Henriksen, stolen gold, Tommy Wirkola, Vegar Hoel, writer-director, zombies

There may not be many guarantees in this world but here’s one that you can take straight to the bank: Nazis will always make great cinematic villains. After all, what other group is so synonymous with complete and total evil, so unburdened with any easy notions of humanity or morality? For filmmakers, Nazis are real-world vampires and boogeymen, historical realities where the “black hats” are so intrinsically part of the package that there’s never a need to sugarcoat or offer any sort of counterpoint: after all, what person, in their right mind, is actually going to stick up for these ghouls? Who’s going to raise their hand and protest the traditionally black-and-white presentation of these blood-thirsty bastards? If you think about it, Nazis are just about the best, purest personification of evil we’ve got: pure, undiluted hatred, with no possibility for empathy or sympathy.

While filmmakers learned long ago that Nazis make sure-fire villains, horror filmmakers have managed to one-up this notion of “ultimate evil” by taking it to its logical conclusion: ravenous Nazi zombies. What’s worse than a Nazi, after all, than a flesh-eating Nazi that can’t be killed? From cult classics like Shock Waves (1977) and Zombie Lake (1980) to more recent films like the Outpost series (2008-2013) and Blood Creek (2009), genre filmmakers have been mining this vein for some time, albeit with decidedly mixed results. For the most part, however, these films all have one thing in common: they portray their undead Nazi menaces as terrifying, dead-serious threats.

This tendency towards a more serious tone is completely obliterated by Norwegian writer-director Tommy Wirkola’s massively entertaining Dead Snow (2009), an honest-to-god horror-comedy that manages to make the threat of undead Nazis both suitably terrifying and impossibly funny. Similar to the early splatter-comedies of Peter Jackson,  Wirkola’s outrageous tale about a ski vacation gone very, very wrong is a high-energy romp filled with gory effects, incredibly rude humor and some of the most kickass action setpieces in the game. When the film falls short, it’s a slightly silly, rather predictable variation on traditional zombie films. When Wirkola and company lock into a groove, however (which is most of the time), Dead Snow is absolutely relentless, ridiculously fun and one of the very best horror films of the ’00s.

Dead Snow kicks off with that hoariest of old tropes, the group of friends heading to the country for some rest and relaxation. In this case, the location is the snow-covered Norwegian countryside and the friends are the usual mixed group of character types: we have couple Martin (Vegar Hoel) and Hanna (Charlotte Frogner); wise-cracking horror movie buff Erlend (Jeppe Beck Laursen); Hanna’s cousin, Chris (Jenny Skavlan); outdoorsy Vegard (Lasse Valdal), who’s dating Sara (Ane Dahl Torp), whose family owns the cabin that they’re headed to; Roy (co-writer Stig Frode Henriksen) and Liv (Evy Kasseth Røsten). For the most part, they’re all likable characters, although most are sketched as lightly as one would expect for this type of genre offering: Martin is a doctor-in-training who faints at the sight of blood, Chris is the “hot girl” who falls for the resident nerd, Erlend always has a relevant bit of horror movie trivia for any particular situation, etc…Again, nothing we haven’t seen before, although it’s a refreshing change of pace to have a horror ensemble that’s this likable: only the hardest of hearts would root against this batch of cheerful goofballs.

Since the film’s very first scene depicts Sara fleeing through the woods, pursued by shadowy, malevolent figures in vintage Nazi regalia (to the tune of “Hall of the Mountain King,” which is just about as epic as it sounds), we’re already hip to some strange happenings in these here parts, but we get our official confirmation when a mysterious stranger (Bjørn Sundquist) shows up at the cabin to pour Pernod all of the partying youths’ ice cream. Turns out that the area they’re in has a bit of a bad history: a particularly ruthless Nazi battalion, led by the stone-cold Colonel Herzog (Ørjan Gamst), terrorized the locals there during the waning days of World War II. After the locals turned the tables and massacred the Nazis, Herzog and a group of his men escaped into the snowy mountains, never to be seen again. According to the stranger, the group, known as the Einsatz, still lurks up there, somewhere, waiting for unwitting victims to wreck their ageless vengeance on.

We wouldn’t have a movie if our plucky heroes took good advise, however, so they kick the stranger out and keep partying. When Vegard takes off to look for his tardy girlfriend, however, we get that other reliable horror convention: the splitting of the group. As the various friends go about their business, monstrous figures lurk in the shadows until everything comes to an explosive head (literally) and the group finds themselves under frenzied assault from a mob of zombified Nazis, led by the rotted but impossibly serene undead commandant. When the zombie mayhem kicks in, it never quits, rocketing our group (and us) full-throttle towards their inevitable rendezvous with ultimate evil. Our plucky heroes will need to fight back with everything they have, however: Herzog and his minions are on a mission straight from Hell and woe to anyone who gets in their way.

From beginning to end, Wirkola’s Dead Snow is an absolute blast of pure, undiluted fun. I’ve already mentioned the resemblance to Jackson’s early films, although Dead Snow is anything but a Dead Alive (1992) rip-off, even though both films share similar DNA. If anything, the film often plays like a far more splattery version of Raimi’s goofy Army of Darkness (1992): Army of Darkness even features a Deadite general who bears more than a passing resemblance to Dead Snow’s Herzog. There’s a good-natured tone to the carnage and chaos that completely belies the often show-stopping violence: you wouldn’t think that a scene involving a character rappelling down a mountain-side, using intestines for rope, would be silly and giddy but, in Wirkola’s hands, it most certainly is. Nothing in the film is watered down and no one is safe, lending a bracing sense of unpredictability to the proceedings: any character has the potential to be eviscerated at any moment and the film has a blast playing with these expectations.

Similar to Lenzi’s zombies in Nightmare City (1980), Wirkola’s zombies are fast, ferocious and more prone to stabbing you to death than trying to take a chomp out of your ankle. While I’ve never been the biggest fan of “fast zombies” (or smart zombies, for that matter), the ones in Dead Snow work brilliantly. In many ways, the film is extremely action-oriented, even for a zombie siege film: similar to how Dario Argento filled his films with “murder setpieces,” Wirkola’s is filled with white-knuckle fights against the resurrected Nazis. While there are a few instances of more measured, atmospheric horror (such as the excellent scene where Chris is stalked in the outhouse), most of the film involves the zombies chasing down and butchering their prey right out in the open, as the poor humans put up whatever resistance they can muster.

And muster resistance, they do: if you don’t find yourself jumping from your seat on a regular basis, fist raised to the sky, as Martin and the others kick zombie ass…well, I feel kinda sorry for you. Whether it’s the awesome bit where Vegard attaches a machine gun to his snow-mobile or the truly epic battle between Martin, Roy and about a million dead Nazis, Dead Snow is one great set-piece after another. When the film really gets going, it rarely stops, inching on the brakes only to highlight some of the film’s more overtly humorous aspects.

The humor, of course, is the other thing: while many horror-comedies completely botch the chills-to-giggles ratio, Wirkola and co-writer Henriksen prove as apt with the funny stuff as the runny stuff. While much of the humor revolves around gross-out gags and decidedly immature, politically incorrect observations about the world at large, there’s an underlying element of razor-sharp, insightful, pitch-black satire that serves as a sturdy foundation. One of my favorite scenes here (or in any movie, to be honest), involves the classic bit where Martin must deal with getting bit: after successfully going through all the usual motions, via a quick-cut montage, he stands victorious, only to immediately get bit by another zombie. It’s a brilliant gag that works on many levels (Dead Snow has lots of fun playing with standard zombie flick clichés) but is completely sold by Hoel’s all-in performance as Martin: his frustrated howl makes me spit-take every time I watch the film.

While the film is extremely well-made (the cinematography is quite attractive and the excellent score, courtesy of Christian Wibe, really heightens the action), it’s the incredibly game, likable cast that really puts this over the top. To a tee, none of the characters are unduly obnoxious (although Martin has a few quirks, like almost suffocating his girlfriend while messing around, that are admittedly worrisome) and we come to genuinely care for all of them. We spend the most time with Martin, our defacto protagonist, but they’re all a hoot, really. I’m particularly fond of Valdal’s “Spicoli by way of the great outdoors” take on Vegard: he cuts a helluva heroic swath through the evil Einsatz and never even looks like he breaks a sweat, which is a pretty sweet trick.

Ultimately, Dead Snow is just about as good as it gets for this kind of film. Genuinely funny, gory enough to impressive the hounds, full of likable, memorable characters and possessed of some seriously badass villains, everything about Wirkola’s sophomore film (his debut was a Norwegian “re-imagining” of Kill Bill (2003), believe it or not) is top-notch entertainment. While some critics bemoaned Wirkola’s followup, the tongue-in-cheek Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), I found that film to be equally delightful, establishing the writer-director as a budding auteur along the lines of Peter Jackson or Frank Hennenlotter. Wirkola would go on to turn Dead Snow into a franchise with the equally excellent, English-language Dead Snow 2: Red vs Dead (2014), proving that he’s no flash-in-the-pan. Suffice to say, no one rides the solid line between horror and comedy quite like Wirkola does: as long as he’s driving, I’ll be more than happy to ride shotgun.