Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Raising The Undead

This coming May sees the UK cinematic release of 28 Weeks Later…, the unimaginatively-titled sequel to director Danny Boyle’s gritty horror 28 Days Later... Boyle’s original has become, in many ways, a seminal entry in the horror genre, although, notably, the ushering of a new chapter for the cinematic undead as a source of serious horror, was not what the film initially drew attention for. The filmmakers apparently sought to draw attention to their relatively low budget by shooting only on semi-professional digital cameras. Then there was the film’s opening spectacle of a deserted London, and the arresting image of Cillian Murphy’s Jim, clad in hospital scrubs and clasping a carrier-bag, standing in bewilderment on an empty Westminster Bridge. As Jim soon discovers, London, and indeed the UK as a whole, has been evacuated in the aftermath of a savage plague – viscerally referred to as ‘Rage’ – which, upon transmission of infected blood, almost instantaneously strips victims of their humanity and turns them into rabid, demon-eyed, blood-vomiting monsters. It was a shocking vision amplified by the digital format, giving the impression that the end of the world was being filmed with footage blended from survivors on the run, and static CCTV cameras.

Just as George Romero critiqued America’s involvement in Vietnam in 1968’s Night of the Living Dead, and then satirized western consumerism a decade later in Dawn of the Dead, 28 Days Later… arguably captured the 21st Century zeitgeist and became a product of its time. In the aftermath of 9/11, and in the months preceding the invasion of Iraq in 2003, the fear of weapons of mass destruction, chemical warfare and infection, dominated headlines across the western world. The Bush Administration insisted Saddam was stockpiling unpleasant chemicals in the Iraqi desert, and tabloids speculated on the likelihood of a terrorist ‘dirty’ bomb hitting London or New York. The ‘Infected’ of Boyle’s British apocalypse capitalized on the fears fanning from this brave new world. Gone were the cumbersome, slow-moving undead of Romero’s original visions; the Rage created aggressive, salivating victims who were fast on their feet, aimlessly sprinting and snarling in their tireless and instinctive search for flesh to feast upon.

For nearly two decades from the late 1980s, the zombie was effectively confined to the annals of cinematic ridicule, perhaps owing to the torrent of lazy parodies and trashy TV movies that plagued the 1990s (Space Zombie Bingo, anyone?). 28 Days Later… made the zombie scary again, and the film’s massive stateside success was clearly interpreted by the studios. A remake of Dawn of the Dead hit multiplexes in 2004. The film jettisoned the consumerist satire of Romero’s original to concentrate on snarling horror that seemed directly inspired by Boyle’s brutal depiction of the British apocalypse. Despite lacking depth, the film was hugely entertaining and creative in its own way by depicting a zombie birth.

Once again, however, it was the British who broke new ground in the genre. Comedy duo and Romero-worshippers Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright, released the London-set zombie-homage Shaun of the Dead in 2004. A quirky, hilarious and surprisingly violent affair, the film was billed as a “romantic comedy with zombies”, telling the story of a young man attempting to fix his relationship woes with the added inconvenience of the undead roaming the streets of London. Like 28 Days Later… the film was embraced by the Americans, and even played a part in convincing Romero himself to direct a fourth zombie film of his own. Land of the Dead was released in 2005 to mixed reviews. Indeed, it lacked the satirical punch of his previous outings, although it marked a return to the classic lumbering zombie that suddenly proved no less terrifying than the rabidly hyperactive victims of 28 Days Later…

The success of 28 Days Later… has had differing effects on each side of the Atlantic. The British horror genre has seen a rejuvenation, perhaps most notable so far for having supported the career of writer-director Neil Marshall. His werewolf horror-comedy Dog Soldiers, was released in the same year as 28 Days Later… and enjoyed critical and commercial success in Britain, as did his follow-up, caving-horror The Descent. More recent releases, such as camping horror Wilderness, and gory business-retreat satire Severance, remain under-seen but still worthy additions to the genre. In America, the ripple-effect has been far more routine. A film adaptation of the popular video-game Resident Evil was filmed in 2002 by British director Paul WS Anderson. Telling the story of a deadly, zombie-creating virus unleashed within a subterranean research facility, the film received a thoroughly-deserved critical mauling at the international box-office. Still, the film found a fan-base, and the second sequel is due later this year.

In the midst of an influx of tepid additions to the horror genre, many of which young children are allowed admission to even under the UK’s stricter film-classification guidelines, 28 Weeks Later… will be eagerly anticipated by horror fans. The lack of Danny Boyle is a glitch, and the lack of the experimental digital format may affect the distinctive atmospherics of the original. Having said that, it will be fascinating to see whether the return of the Rage will have the same resonance on the movie-going public, as it did back in 2002.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

IMAX: The Bigger Picture

The BFI London IMAX is an ever-present background entity to all those who leave Waterloo International and descend the steps into the city. Since its erection in 1999, the structure has achieved a slightly uneasy integration with the urban architecture fanning from London’s South Bank. The £20million building attempts a statement of modernity, and always proclaims its latest cinematic offering with outward-facing banners that rival the format itself for sheer enormity. As the exotic alternative to traditional cinematic spectacle, the IMAX sales pitch tends to begin with the venue.

There are around 150 IMAX theatres across the United States, and the London IMAX is one of nearly 150 more worldwide. All boast screens nearly twenty metres high. Films shot specifically for the IMAX experience are typically documentaries exploring far-flung corners of the world. They exploit the enormous format (ten times the size of a 35mm frame) to capture such magnificent natural vistas as the Grand Canyon, the African savannah and the peaks of Everest. Loose documentary narratives usually guide the viewer in the form of voiceover, but relentlessly stunning visuals are of course the star. Accompanying the documentaries on the schedules are normally CGI compilation films which, although rarely less than stunning on a visual level, are really little more than special-effects show-reels.

An inevitable result of this new technology would be that the format opens itself up to the same criticism routinely leveled at mainstream Hollywood; the ‘wow’ factor induced by cinematic spectacle is prioritised over good storytelling. The difference with IMAX is that the technology is specifically designed to showcase that new breed of spectacle, to the extent that many shows even begin with a short demonstration of the theatre’s audio technology. Whereas traditional cinema has, in many cases, evolved into serious art, and only tends to command critical respect when filmmakers offer involving stories and characters, IMAX is generally accepted as being little more than a theme-park attraction. The reality is that, with the limited range of purpose-shot films on offer, it is yet to prove itself capable of much else. In this way, there are certain similarities to be seen with the birth of cinema itself. From the first public exhibitions of the 1890s, and beyond, the appeal of early cinema was primarily the visual spectacle. Be it a train arriving at a station, or workers leaving a factory, the appeal was in the fact that these actions had been caught on film in the first place. It could well be that the IMAX format simply needs time to evolve, to become as established an art-form as its 35mm older cousin.

More straightforward, however, is the argument that IMAX represents the next cinematic step in audience-participation. With cutting-edge surround-sound, and a screen enveloping the viewer’s field of vision, the line between the audience’s very status as viewer or participant, becomes blurred. We find ourselves gently leaning as the camera swoops through the Grand Canyon, or mysteriously pinned to the back of the seat as we plunge into the depths of a volcano on a computer-generated roller-coaster. Add to this the now-routine 3D element of many shows, and the film envelops us to the extent that we can truly lose ourselves in the experience. That can’t often be said in quite the same way of traditional cinema.

Despite, however, the abundance of technological hooks, the IMAX format seems to be relegated to the fringes of the entertainment world; the theme park ride struggling to find its fan-base. An often stagnant schedule, combined with premium admission-rates for films which rarely run longer than forty-five minutes, are no doubt contributing factors. Over recent years, however, a certain format-crossover has begun to take place. A mix of classic and commercial films, such as The Matrix sequels, Apocalypse Now, Superman Returns, and most recently Zack Snyder’s Spartan-spectacular 300, have all taken advantage of digital technology to find themselves enjoying releases in the IMAX format. Similarly, though, digital 3D technology is beginning to find its way to the ‘traditional’ multiplexes. Recent releases such as Monster House, Tim Burton’s classic The Nightmare Before Christmas and the current Meet The Robinsons, have all been available in digital 3D outside the IMAX.

If current trends persist, it could be that ‘bigger’ is the only real hook that the IMAX format has to offer audiences. Perhaps that will be enough to sustain it as a more exotic alternative to the 35mm and, increasingly, digital multiplex. This, however, seems somewhat unlikely. It seems reasonable to instead predict a similar evolution to that demonstrated by its 35mm cousin over the past century, assuming the public’s theme-park enthusiasm remains. Without it, the IMAX will likely end up permanently relegated to the status of cinematic oddity.