A long time ago, in a world full of free love and Bee Gees tunes, famed horror writer/director George A. Romero dropped a warped tale of government dickheadedness straight into the drugged out laps of our parent’s good time called The 70’s. His film THE CRAZIES told the story of our beloved government “accidentally” unleashing a horrible virus in Evens City. This virus would cause people to go totally bat-shit nuts (or CRAZY if you will). Their plan: Contain and Eradicate. Sounds like a super sweet-ass film, don’t it? Well it is.
Now let’s press the fast forward button on the VCR of time. It is now the future. iPhones, 4th Edition Dungeons & Dragons, and classic film remakes are a part of our every day lives. Some fuckhead named Breck Eisner (who brought us the cinematic gem Sahara) woke up one day and said, “man, that Romero movie THE CRAZIES would be better with a polished edge.“. Oh how wrong he was.
Aside from the epic fuck-up at the hands of AMC Theater’s cracker-jack staff, my movie going experience today was very tiresome. Let me explain. Three tickets were purchased for Eisner’s remake of The Crazies. One for me, one for my baby sister (don’t worry, she’s 16), and one for her friend. Some dope, who was clearly earning his $7 per hour, put When In Rome on in theater 16. Half of the 25 people in attendance went to bitch, while I called from my seat. The movie started 20 minutes late as a result of this lack of brain power. On to the movie itself.
Low expectations are mandatory with a film like this. If you walk in with them too high, it’ll be like that box of Christmas socks from auntie all over again.
Likes: I couldn’t really find much that I liked about this movie, but here goes nothing. Eisner did a great job of dropping you right in the shit from the get go. Most movies these days take FOREVER to get the ball rolling, and stuff like that really pisses me off. Not this time. Thrashed cars, barren streets, and burning buildings let you know that something fucked happened to this quaint little town.
The gore scenes were o.k. My favorite was when Timothy Olyphant’s character David had his hand pinned to the floor by a knife. This dude yanked his hand from the floor (WITH THE KNIFE STILL IN IT!), made a ninja style blocking maneuver on this infected loopy bitch that was attacking him, and stabbed her in the throat with the knife still embedded in his hand. I’ve seen lots of death scenes in my time, so getting something new like that was cool.
LOATHES: When are these dumb ass directors going to learn that STORY IS IMPORTANT?!!! Seriously. I had to explain to my sister and her friend what was going on, because these clowns focused too much on shock value and not enough on letting the audience know what’s up. Crucial information to the story’s plot is spewed out in like 5 seconds by a government official that’s briefly held prisoner before he’s shot. I’m actually surprised my ears could decipher his lightning fast explanation. Trust me, you need to pay attention to what this dude says or you won’t know what the crap is going on.
Half of this film is just the main group of survivors walking around, trying find a way out of their quarantined town. Every now and then, an infected nutter would pop out to cause some trouble (a smashed car windshield in the car wash here, and a pitchfork stab through a tied down body there). But the only people they scared were the flock of tweens that surrounded me. One of them actually kicked the back of my seat, she was so scared. Amateur.
If movies of this caliber are giving the new generation of movie goers nightmares, it truly saddens me. If I could have things my way, I’d make them all watch the original versions of these films that they think are new. Hell, I still have to look behind me every time I walk up the basement stairs in my grandparent’s house because it sounds like someone’s following me. I have A Nightmare On Elm Street to thank for that little slice of childhood trauma.
So what have we learned tonight? Stay away from remakes unless the dude/dudette making the film understands the importance of story, 16 year olds jump over almost anything, and George A. Romero is a retard for jumping on board as executive producer for a movie this crappy. Pleasant dreams.