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On a torrid late afternoon in Manhattan, Universal Pictures finally let critics see its action comedy R.I.P.D., starring Jeff Bridges and Ryan Reynolds as a pair of deceased lawmen who return to modern Boston to confront a horde of zombies, called Deados. The movie, based on Peter M. Lenkovs Dark Horse comic book, arrived with its own stench of decay. A dozen years in gestation, with an announced budget of $135 million, this knockoff mashup of Ghostbusters and Men in Black bore the mark of a zombie artifact
and capper. So here is a rough transcription of my notes, scribbled in the 3-D dark, while sitting through the summers most inert film. Nick (Reynolds), a Boston cop on detail with his partner Bobby Hayes (Kevin Bacon, in the familiar Kevin Bacon sleaze0-bag role), finds a stash of gold that they decide to keep. Nick has second thoughts, since hes a good guy at heart, and Hayes shoots him in the face. The dead Nick is slowly sucked into the sky along with Catholics below the age
Just about every zombie movie I can think of is set, for the most part, in tightly defined spaces where groups of survivors huddle to fend off the flesh-hungry hordes outside. World War Z, which may be the most entertaining and accomplished zombie thriller since George A. Romeros Dawn of the Dead (1979), has touches of that suspenseful high-tension claustrophobia. Yet its a very different sort of zombie feast (far more than, say, The Walking Dead). Its vast and sprawling and spectacular; its the first truly globalized orgy of the undead. The director, Marc Forster, is a filmmaker whose work Ive never particularly liked (he made the genteel Finding Neverland, the overblown Monsters Ball, and the Bond dud Quantum of Solace). Here, though, working from the 2006 Max Brooks novel World War Z: An Oral History of the Zombie War, he shows a new audacity and flair. World War Z is epically scaled, but its not a messy, noisy, CGI-bogus, throw-everything-at-the-audience sort of blockbuster. Its thrillingly controlled, and it builds in impact. The film open with music thats meant to remind you of Tubular Bells, the chilling theme music from The Exorcist, and thats followed by a collage of actual TV news snippets cleverly edited together to suggest a world already tilting toward the abyss. In Philadelphia, where Gerry Lane (Brad Pitt), his wife (Mireille Enos), and their two daughters (Sterling Jerins and
Running Zombies?!