About six weeks ago, I was invited to a fifteen-minute sneak peek of World War Z, an allegedly troubled project from the usually untouchable actor-producer, Brad Pitt, and underrated director Marc Forster (Monster's Ball, Stranger Than Fiction, Quantum of Solace). Given the buzz- or lack thereof- I was understandably tentative, but was quickly sucked in by the film's grand scale and penchant for genuine horror. Having seen the finished product, the matter is no longer up for debate; World War Z is unlike any film of its genre before it. Endlessly marketed as another snooze fest holiday blockbuster, it is actually a taut, engrossing thrill ride seasoned with merciless, edge-of-your-seat terror, the likes of which haven't graced the big screen for a long time.
Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN representative who gets called back into work courtesy of a virus that has rapidly turned most of the earth's population into a soulless, superhuman race of ravenous zombies. In his worldwide search for answers, Lane faces all comers head-on in an environment that would compel even the most reckless Marine to bail with a resounding 'Nope!' before word of the outbreak hits the evening news.
Virtually every supporting character is useless, from Lane's inconvenient wife to his irritating children, but it doesn't even matter. Pitt carries the film with a grounded performance, crafting a rational, believable character that so deftly toes the line between the invincible action hero and the out-of-his-element everyman. Forster made the right decision injecting a main character instead of following the scattered journal entry format of Max Brooks' novel, giving the film the accessibility it needs to be successful without resembling a carbon copy of every blockbuster this side of the 3D revolution.
And it is on that point that World War Z excels. Anyone expecting a fun but forgettable romp ablaze with heavy artillery and indiscriminate loss of life is likely to cop a pleasant shock.
This is not to suggest that the film doesn't cater to the mass market. On the contrary, each set piece just gets progressively more ambitious, making a glowing spectacle of the film's $200 million budget, but it is the moments of deathly silence that are most effective and, ironically, most likely to turn the event into a holistic cinema experience; one in which you and 300 fellow viewers can uniformally share your inner cowardice amidst nervous laughter and clenched fists, jaws and many other parts of the human anatomy. Here is a film that has grabbed every potential setback by the scruff of the neck, thrown it across the room with the force of an undead army, and nonchalantly delivered a jaw-dropping masterclass in suspense for its troubles.
*There's nothing I love more than a bit of feedback, good or bad. So drop me a line on jnatsis@iprimus.com.au and let me know what you thought of my review. If you're looking for a writer for your movie website or other publication, I'd also love to hear from you.*
Pitt plays Gerry Lane, a former UN representative who gets called back into work courtesy of a virus that has rapidly turned most of the earth's population into a soulless, superhuman race of ravenous zombies. In his worldwide search for answers, Lane faces all comers head-on in an environment that would compel even the most reckless Marine to bail with a resounding 'Nope!' before word of the outbreak hits the evening news.
Virtually every supporting character is useless, from Lane's inconvenient wife to his irritating children, but it doesn't even matter. Pitt carries the film with a grounded performance, crafting a rational, believable character that so deftly toes the line between the invincible action hero and the out-of-his-element everyman. Forster made the right decision injecting a main character instead of following the scattered journal entry format of Max Brooks' novel, giving the film the accessibility it needs to be successful without resembling a carbon copy of every blockbuster this side of the 3D revolution.
And it is on that point that World War Z excels. Anyone expecting a fun but forgettable romp ablaze with heavy artillery and indiscriminate loss of life is likely to cop a pleasant shock.
This is not to suggest that the film doesn't cater to the mass market. On the contrary, each set piece just gets progressively more ambitious, making a glowing spectacle of the film's $200 million budget, but it is the moments of deathly silence that are most effective and, ironically, most likely to turn the event into a holistic cinema experience; one in which you and 300 fellow viewers can uniformally share your inner cowardice amidst nervous laughter and clenched fists, jaws and many other parts of the human anatomy. Here is a film that has grabbed every potential setback by the scruff of the neck, thrown it across the room with the force of an undead army, and nonchalantly delivered a jaw-dropping masterclass in suspense for its troubles.
*There's nothing I love more than a bit of feedback, good or bad. So drop me a line on jnatsis@iprimus.com.au and let me know what you thought of my review. If you're looking for a writer for your movie website or other publication, I'd also love to hear from you.*