
I’ve been sick for a few weeks, which is why these articles
have been a little slow to come out, but I’m finally on the mend.
Moving on.
One of the things that have happened since the first time I
wrote about my personal cinematic landscape was the pandemic. Say what you will
about that time, but it felt pretty apocalyptic when it was going down. I’m
from New York, the city that never sleeps. During that time, it slept. The
streets of Times Square were barren, the sounds of the city quieted, and even
the food trucks went on their way. Reports of deaths mixed with the sour tone
of conspiracy theorists telling the world that our vaccines had tracking chips in
them. People faced the fear with everything from a strange game where astronaut
jellybeans killed each other in secret, to splattercore books (a genre I didn’t
even know existed until then), to video chatting, to straight-up denial. I kidnapped
my mother so that she wouldn’t be alone for, what was supposed to be, a couple
of weeks but it stretched into almost a year.
I’d seen some scary things before COVID, but that was the
first time it felt like the apocalypse could be more than just something that
happened twice a season on Supernatural (2005-2020).
The pandemic definitely altered the way I view films in the
apocalyptic genre.
I’m not entirely sure I still agree with the list I originally
gave. Although I enjoy Zombieland (2009), I don’t think it’s really altered
my cinematic landscape the way I once did. Same goes for This is the End
(2013). They’re good films, but my take on apocalyptic movies would be the same
without them. At least now. World War Z (2013) also doesn’t feel like an
addition to the apocalyptic genre to me, but more of a flick to consider where
adaptations are concerned.
World War Z, the book, is a compilation of various
tales of people entering a zombie apocalypse. It’s set up as a kind of case
study. None of the characters in the film are ever even seen in the book. I think
the flick shows an interesting way to adapt that kind of novel. Instead of
telling a story already told by author Max Brooks, the creators opted to add
another to the anthology. From an adaptation stance, I think that’s brilliant.
From an apocalypse perception, however, it’s basic zombies.
Cargo (2017) is the only film I originally listed
that would still be a part of my apocalypse landscape today.
So, what apocalyptic films DO alter the way I view the
genre?
I’ll start with the one that that means more to me now than
it did before the pandemic: 28 Days Later (2002).
Watching that film in the aftermath of COVID gave me chills.
Seeing London as empty as Times Square in 2020 was much more harrowing than it
had been before. There’s a certain hollowness, a hopelessness, that grips me
when watching that scene now. It’s the embodiment of what an apocalypse feels like,
and it puts me on my heels as I watch the rest of the events unfold.
The zombie aspects are better than in most undead movies
(fast, easier infection, etc.), but it’s that overall feel in the beginning
that reflects something I’ve now actually felt. It allows me to relate on a
deeper level and creates a more frightening experience.
There’s something to be said for pulling from real
situations for a horror film. It makes the impossible seem more realistic and
terrifying.
Then there’s
Train to Busan (2016). Although it came
out before 2018, I only saw it after my original articles were put out. It instantly
became one of my favorite zombie movies. It also opened me up more to Korean
cinema, which is where I prefer to find my horror these days. The story of a not-so-great
dad taking care of his daughter and redeeming himself as the world turns to rot
is one that tugs at the heart strings and absolutely destroys me by the
conclusion.
Without
Train to Busan I’d have seen maybe half the
apocalyptic films I have by now. Most of them I watched because this one Korean
zombie flick opened my eyes to them. Without it, my taste for the sub-genre
would be much more basic.
The last addition to my personal cinematic landscape for the
apocalypse sub-genre is
A Quiet Place (2018).
I had to choose between three options for this spot because
they all felt like a possible entry for the same basic reason. The other options
were
Bird Box (2018) and
Blood Quantum (2019).
In all three films there’s an entire group of people that
are unaffected by the subject of the apocalypse. In
Blood Quantum, indigenous
people have a quality to their blood that keeps them from being infected with
the virus. While in
A Quiet Place and
Bird Box it’s a disability
that protects people from invaders.
I decided to choose
A Quiet Place for this article
because it’s the one that does it best. I almost put it in the minimal dialogue
category, but there’s actually quite a bit of talking that happens. The majority
of that conversation just happens to be in sign language.
The idea of an entire group of people being protected from
an apocalypse was relatively new to me with these films and, as it turns out,
it’s an idea I really love. That idea that something can protect a person that’s
completely out of their control – whether it’s heritage or a physical issue –
is something that I feel gives a lot more depth to a story. I see it done more
now, and I do tend to gravitate toward those plots when I see them. If
A
Quiet Place wasn’t as amazing as it was, it might not be something I looked
at all that hard in the future.
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