World War Z

World War Z, the 2006 post-apocalyptic novel by Max (son of Mel) Brooks, is one of the finest zombie texts ever written. A collection of interviews and first person accounts, the various chapters record the unfolding of a global zombie outbreak and humanity’s decades’ long struggle for survival. But rather than going for predictable scares and gory sensationalism, the personal accounts are focused more on the effects the outbreak has on geo-politics, military tactics, the world economy and organized religion. In the right hands, a book like this could be adapted into a terrific SF mock-documentary that is heavy on the social commentary in the same vein as District 9, but without skimping on the horror and chill factor so effectively conveyed in George A. Romero’s Dead series.

Trust Paramount Pictures to go mess up such a golden opportunity. Clearly the thought of making an intelligent zombie film is too much of a financial risk these days, so instead what we get is a bland disaster flick not far removed from Roland Emmerich’s back catalogue and directed by Marc Foster (who delivered the frantically edited Quantum of Solace, just to give you an idea of what you’re in for).

The plot, for startes, has been stripped of all substance and given a Spielbergian retooling that focuses on the decidedly cheesier themes of fatherhood and family values, which shouldn’t come as a surprise really, when Hollywood’s busiest dad has been cast in the leading role. The filmmakers involved believe that by making Brad Pitt’s UN operative Gerry Lane a devoted family man, the audience will identify with his pain for being separated from his loved ones. Instead, Gerry’s homesickness makes him a flimsy and occasionally inept hero, as exemplified by the scene where his black ops team is taken out by a bunch of zombies because he receives a phone call from his wife mid-operation.

Speaking of the living dead, if you were expecting the moaning, shuffling kind championed by Romero and actually featured in Max Brooks’ novel, you’re in for another crushing disappointment. The “Zekes” in WWZ the movie are more like twitchy, screeching, coked-up Usain Bolts that sprint across cities and for some reason spend very little time feasting on human flesh (which is the whole point of being a zombie after all, isn’t it?). Admittedly, the idea of the undead moving together like a compact horde of ants makes a stunning visual, but it’s yet another development that distances the movie further from the source material.

The only aspect of the novel that is somewhat faithfully reproduced on-screen is the globe-trotting. With the narrative moving from the US and South Korea to Israel and, err, South Wales, there is something wholly disheartening seeing the world’s capitals being systematically infested. The Jerusalem-set sequence in particular proves to be the best of the entire film, as the undead infiltrate the city by piling one upon another to climb the titanic wall surrounding the Middle-Eastern metropolis. It’s one of the rare moments where the events only hinted at in Brooks’ work are effectively portrayed on the big screen. Other memorable sections of the book however, such as the battle of Yonkers or the clearing of the catacombs of Paris, which would’ve also made for excellent set-pieces, are conspicuously absent.

While these are undoubtedly the rants of a disgruntled fan of the novel, there is no denying that Marc Foster's film is average at best. The action is derivative, the characters lackluster (you’d be forgiven for not noticing Lost’s Matthew Fox as a Navy SEAL) and the plot weakened by the many rewrites the script reportedly went through. And whoever thought that setting a game of hide and seek in a dreary medical centre outside of Cardiff would make a gripping final act should go back to film school.

For those of you who haven’t read the book and have low standards when it comes to popcorn entertainment, you might just sit through this fine. For those who instead were dying to see World War Z on the big-screen, you’ll more likely feel like you’re dying inside by the time you exit the cinema.

2/5