So… you know how we all watch B movies and we say things like, “Man, if only they had a little more budget,” or “I really wish they’d stop taking themselves so seriously.” We love these flicks for the silliness that comes from having to improvise effects on a shoestring. We love the dumb one-liners that would never fly in big-budget movies, we love the ridiculous and highly implausible circumstances, and we love watching people doing what they love for the hell of it…
What happens when you are able to throw an enormous amount of money – a feature length high-end budget – at a very B-level script?
You get “Iron Sky”, or as we like to call it, “Holy Crap There Were Nazis On The Moon This Whole Time!?!”
I’m pretty sure the idea for this film happened in a bar after a lot of shots of something very cheap and probably toxic. It had to have been in some kind of LA dive, and these two guys, Brian Brinkman and Micho Rutare, are sitting there doing shots, bemoaning their fate as unemployed writers or directors or whatever and how cruel the world is that their genius is unknown, and in walks Danny Bonaduce…
How could we NOT watch something with such a promising title as “Zombie Apocalypse: Redemption”? The story goes that it’s roughly 12 years after a double-dose of monumental stupid on the part of humanity. First, there’s a viral outbreak that causes rapid zombification. The collected governments of the world (actually, just the US and Russia) decide to solve the problem by setting off nuclear weapons all over everywhere, because they must’ve suddenly found themselves in Bizarro Land where that makes sense…
Not “Snakes on a Plane.”
“Snakes on a TRAIN.”
Continuing in the Asylum’s brilliant tradition of “mock-busters”, this installment bears absolutely no resemblance to the Sam Jackson story except that it has snakes in it.
In western society we have a certain fondness for movie trilogies. A couple of them probably popped into your head just while reading that sentence. There is a certain symmetry to it and it reminds us of the classic play structure, where everything comes together in the third act. Maybe we just like the number 3. I’m telling you all of this because this fondness of the third number does not seem to extend across the Pacific. Asian horror directors in particular seem to be really good at telling a story in two parts. This even extends to the American versions of their films.
The most horrific sin a movie can commit is to be boring.
The second most horrific sin a movie can make is to be boring through the process of also trying to be absurd or abstract – and then it’s only permissible if the absurdity is enough to make us stick around to figure out just what the hell is going on.
In this case, but for the first three-quarters of it, there was no way to figure out what it was about. Was there anything “zombie-ish” going on at all? No, not really… not… exactly… maybe? No… yes? Wait… what?