The Girl with All the Gifts: R-Rated Zombie YA-Crossover Adaptation

Humanity ought to just give up the ghost and make way for zombies to rule the Earth in our place. It is what we deserve for being so rapacious and exploitative, whereas zombies are all about sensitivity and sustainable growth. Not according to any zombie film we’ve ever seen, yet those same films insist the shuffling hordes will be better stewards of the planet. That is even true of the zombie movies based on YA-crossover novels. In this case, it also happens to be rated R. Regardless, humanity is up the creek, but Melanie, a second-generation “hungry” probably has the right stuff to survive in Colm McCarthy’s The Girl with All the Gifts (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

In this case, Melanie really is a girl, a bright ten-year-old who carries the zombie-turning fungal infection. Since she was infected in-utero, she can still conduct herself in a rational manner, as long as she does not get a good whiff of human flesh. She and two or three dozen of her fellow hybrids are serving as research guinea pigs in a secret military base outside London. Helen Justineau is probably the only sympathetic adult figure the kids-with-the-gift know. Aside from her, nobody on staff really takes her daily lessons seriously, but it provides a bonding catalyst for Justineau and the children, especially Melanie. Therefore, when the hungries over run the base, it is Melanie who she will save.

Rather awkwardly, Justineau and Melanie fall in with the hardnosed hungry-hating Sgt. Eddie Parks and the icily self-assured Dr. Caroline Caldwell, who was one zombie attack away from vivisecting Melanie for the sake of a cure. Together, they will try to make it to the Beacon base, but all the hungries in their way make it hard going.

We have been down the humanized zombie road before, most notably with Sabu’s Miss Zombie, but also with Maggie, In the Flesh, and Wyrmwood, but at least Gifts starts promisingly. With the help of aerial drone photography of Chernobyl-decimated Pripyat, McCarthy creates an eerie vision of post-zombie apocalypse London. Melanie also seems to engage with her human captors in mature, interesting ways, particularly her intellectually curious exchanges with Dr. Caldwell. Unfortunately, nearly everyone becomes a zombie movie cliché is the third act, including Melanie herself. Events and decisions that are not well-founded by the preceding scenes just seem to happen in order to bring the film to a ridiculously unsatisfying conclusion.

Sennia Nanua is pretty impressive as Melanie, even when she is forced to wear that protective ski mask (lucky they made that model out of transparent plastic). Glenn Close chews the scenery like a pro and Paddy Considine broods like nobody’s business as crusty Sgt. Parks. Gemma Arterton looks uncomfortable playing Justineau, but she manages to get by. Unfortunately, the ragamuffin hungry-hybrids who shows up later are far more laughable than feral or fierce.

Despite some intense hungry-zombie action, most notably the scenes in which they are able to sneak around the zoned-out in-place packs of the fungal-infected, Gifts ends on a dubious note. It is like McCarthy and screenwriter Mike Carey (adapting his own novel) just give up on their narrative as well as the human race. Only recommended for zombie fans in dire want of a fix, The Girl with All the Gifts opens this Friday (2/24) in New York, at the Village East.

Macbeth: Fassbender Takes on the Sound and Fury

Academics have long debated just how many children Lady Macbeth had and lost, because they don’t hand out tenure for nothing. Justin Kurzel’s new cinematic take on the Scottish Play is willing to go on record positing one child, whose tragic death will psychologically torment her and her noble husband unremittingly. Kurzel also more fully embraces the blood and carnage of battle than politely prestigious productions past in his vivid adaptation of Macbeth (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

You might not recognize the scene of Macbeth, Thane of Glamis and Lady Macbeth burning their young child on a funeral pyre, but from there on, it is business as usual. However, Kurzel does not skimp on hack-and-slash action when Macbeth and his faithful comrade Banquo vanquish the forces of the treasonous Macdonwald. Just as the three witches promise, Macbeth is promoted to Thane Cawdor following the traitor’s execution. That gives Lady Macbeth ideas about the rest of the witches’ prophesy, particularly the part about Macbeth becoming King of Scotland. However, they had an addendum hailing Banquo as the forefather of future kings that somewhat vexes the childless Macbeth.

Although Lady Macbeth does indeed prompt her husband to commit murder, Kurzel’s conception of the Scottish Play is remarkably forgiving of this often vilified noble woman. Again, the explicit grief for her child humanizes her subsequent sins to a considerable extent. On the other hand, Malcolm the heir apparent is portrayed in unusually shallow and cowardly terms.

Casting Michael Fassbender as Macbeth is so logically self-evident, it seems strange nobody tried to do it sooner. He does not disappoint, completely committing to Kurzel highly physical conception of the Thane. One look from him can make the heather on the hills wilt. In contrast, Marion Cotillard’s Lady Macbeth is unusually sensitive and guilt-ridden. Unlike memorably ferocious Lady Macbeths (Rosanne Ma in the Pan Asian Rep’s Shogun Macbeth is still a favorite), she is almost delicate, which makes the contrast between her and Macbeth all the more dramatic. Paddy Considine and Sean Harris also add considerable grit and heft as Banquo and Macduff, respectively.

Visually, cinematographer Adam Arkapaw work is just as bold, deliberately evoking blood and fire with his vivid color palette, while (brother) Jed Kurzel’s minimalist score gives the film a contemporary vibe. Kurzel somewhat overindulges in symbolic imagery with his over the top closing sequence, but that is a minor misstep. In general, his fearlessness pays dividends.

Frankly, the all the best Shakespearean films take some liberties with their source material. Arguably, Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood remains the greatest cinematic Macbeth, with its completely original but utterly iconic death scene. Kurzel’s Macbeth is a worthy follower in its tradition. Like Ralph Fiennes’ Coriolanus, Kurzel is very much in touch with the manly, action-driven side of Shakespeare, while also ruthlessly plumbing the dark psychological depths of his flawed characters. Highly recommended, Macbeth opens this Friday (12/4) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine.

Honour: It Happens in London

In her bestseller Londonistan, British journalist Melanie Phillips argues Britain’s pluralistic liberal values are steadily eroding due to the rise of Islamist ideology from within. At one point, Mona’s brother makes a similar point, but he brazenly considers himself part of the process. Kasim happens to be a police officer, who is determined to murder his sister out of a perverse sense of family duty in Shan Khan’s simply but evocatively titled Honour (trailer here), which launches today on VOD.

Mona scandalized her Muslim Pakistani family by pursuing romance with a Punjabi Hindu colleague. For that, she must die. However, she proves to be unexpectedly elusive for the severe Kasim and his somewhat reluctant younger brother, Adel, so they enlist a specialist. Ever since his release from prison, the unnamed bounty hunter has carved out a niche for himself, based on referrals from the imam he served time with. Just how the heavily tattooed white supremacist formed an alliance with the devout Muslim remains unspoken, but one can easily assume they bonded over targets of mutual hate.

Nevertheless, the nameless thug-for-hire is starting to develop a conscience, especially after witnessing the savage treatment of his last highly pregnant target. It will be ironic if the former Aryan gang member teaches Mona’s family a lesson in real honor, but in all honesty, Kasim and his cold-blooded mother set the bar awfully low.

As usual, Paddy Considine is totally money-in-the-bank as the bounty hunter. It is a gritty punch-to-the-gut portrayal of soul-sickness and redemption, yet it is not really his movie. Instead, Atlantis co-star Aiysha Hart shoulders a disproportionate share of the film’s load, acquitting herself rather well. In fact, she seems to get stronger as the film progresses, vividly expressing understandable feelings of fear, pain, and betrayal. While the ad-hoc alliance between her and Considine’s grim brooder might strike some viewers as a bit too pat, their rapport helps considerably to sell it on-screen.

Hard to pigeon-hole, Honour rather effectively straddles the border between thrillers and social issue dramas. Arguably, Khan’s out-of-sequence temporal narrative gets a little too cute for its own good, but it does accentuate the suspense at several key junctures. More importantly, he masterfully maintains the tension, conveying a visceral sense of Mona’s bereft alienation.

Honour is not pitch-perfect, but it certainly pulls the audience in and keeps us hooked. It is also quite a bold film. Keep in mind, this all takes place in London (or rather a Glasgow doubling for London)—the financial capitol of Europe and beacon of freedom during two world wars—not some mountain hamlet in Afghanistan. Recommended as a film and as well a social critique, Honour is now available through VOD platforms, with a theatrical release to be announced sometime in the summer.

Considine’s Tyrannosaur

If you think Leeds looks like a depressed town, just wait until you get a look at the characters’ private lives. Take for instance Joseph, a bitterly self-destructive widower. He will be the protagonist of actor Paddy Considine’s harrowing feature directorial debut, Tyrannosaur (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

If the goons from Trainspotting ever reached a certain age, they might look like Joseph, the aging hooligan. Dissipated and ornery, he accidentally kicks his dog to death in the opening scene. Profoundly remorseful, his roiling emotions launch him on a violent bender. Running from the brawls he started, Joseph finds unlikely sanctuary in the charity thrift shop run by Hannah, an Evangelical Christian of enormous patience.

For some reason, Joseph is drawn to return to Hannah’s store, almost out of a perverse need to repay her kindness with cruelty. Yet, as he begins to understand the miseries of her life, a difficult to quantify relationship begins to develop between. Despite her loving nature, Hannah is badly abused by her husband in ways that are not merely violent, but truly degrading. Meanwhile, Joseph also ruefully notes how the little boy living across the street is terrorized by his mother’s boyfriend. However, if you expect Joseph to organize the downtrodden underdogs of Leeds in an Oprah-style scheme of self-empowerment, you had better stay the heck away from Tyrannosaur.

Peter Mullan’s work as Joseph is absolutely staggering. It is hard to watch him, but impossible to turn away. He truly puts on an acting clinic in Tyrannosaur, schooling his better known peers rather savagely. Yet, his supporting cast hangs right with him, particularly including Olivia Colman, who is absolutely devastating as Hannah. They are both equally deserving of Oscar recognition as lead actors, but they have no chance, because Tyrannosaur (which takes its titles from one of Joseph’s uncomfortably revealing anecdotes) is one of the most depressing, spirit bludgeoning films you can probably ever hope to see.

As distressing as the death of Joseph’s dog might be (frankly, viewers should not get too attached to any animals or ailing people in Tyrannosaur), it is what happens to Colman’s character that really haunts you. Considine’s script (a fixer-upper from his short film Dog Altogether) toys with notions of redemption and forgiveness, but ultimately exploits Christianity as a straw man of false comfort. Yet, despite all the unrestrained inhumanity it depicts, Tyrannosaur is a deeply moral film. What happens is clearly wrong and that it continues is meant to be disturbing.

Viscerally powerful, Tyrannosaur is tough to shake. It is an excellent film, recommended for discriminating audiences, but probably not for the clinically depressed. It opens this Friday (11/18) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.