Flickers on the Wall: Needing a Little Zombie Love

My Blood again is rushing
I feel I might be blushing
My face is turning red
I have never felt so un-undead

In the world of independent short film, no critter pops up its nasty little head more than the zombie. I’m being too conservative. Forget creature films; my completely unreliable survey (I asked me) shows there are more zombie movies in the low budget world than any other type, even those involving people chatting at a coffee house. It makes sense. Zombies are cheap monsters to design and even cheaper to film. A bit of gray makeup, some ketchup, and an inexpensive camera and away you go. You don’t even have to worry about keeping your subjects in frame. Of course, most of these flicks aren’t as fresh as their subject matter, but now and again an adequate tale slips through, and far less often, something really remarkable appears.

The zombie sub-genre is extensive enough for multiple columns. The obvious place to start is with serious, blood-soaked zombie fright-fests that are direct decedents of Romero’s Night of the Living Dead. Then I should progress to discussing the trend toward zombie comedies. Naturally, I’m going to ignore that and head straight to the best of the best.

Zombie Love (37 min. Writer/Director: Yfke Van Berckelaer) is the moving romantic tale of Dante, a guy from the wrong side of the tracks, who falls for Claudia, a beautiful girl saddened by the death of her father. It is moving, that is, provided you are moved by intestine munching. Yes, Dante is that special type of guy, the dead type. Can a young woman love a rotting monster? Dante doesn’t see how, so with the help of a lot of makeup and a new attitude, he masquerades as a mortal. It’s a good plan and would be an even better one if Claudia didn’t prefer her men on the pale side.

Dante does have one weapon on his side: music. Yes, Zombie Love is a musical—an old-school, romantic musical, but again, with intestine munching. It’s as if Andrew Lloyd Webber tried his hand at real horror (except this is actually good). The songs are bizarrely catchy. After each viewing, I find myself murmuring under my breath “Eat the flesh” or “And there is also something weird about his smell” for days afterwards. While Webber is the most obvious, the music pays playful homage to a range of overused styles, including the Disney love song, the ‘80s montage number, the ‘70s theatrical disco routine, and the Bollywood extravaganza.

I want your undying love
I want to feed you human meat
I want to warm you icy touch
I want to make your dead heart beat

Zombie Love pokes fun at its genres and all film, but never at the detriment of the story or characters. Dante and Claudia have far better realized personalities than you’ll find in a majority of musicals or horror movies and more than in nearly all parodies. Much of that is due to the clever dialog penned by writer/director Yfke Van Berckelaer. There’s rarely a line that doesn’t both develop the characters and leave the audience laughing. That’s economy, and regular readers of this column know I prize nothing more in a short film. But credit also goes to stars Brad Culver and Esme Allen. Culver manages the nearly impossible task of mixing befuddled, everyman charm with the strength needed in an immortal killer. Allen is stunning in every way, with a voice most musical performers would sell their souls for and a presence that marks her as a future star. She sings that she wants to be protected, and I’d be shocked to find a single viewer who didn’t dream of rushing in to do just that.

You make me feel alive - Zombie Love
You satisfy my drive - Zombie Love
You feed me a human arm
You keep me safe from harm
Zombie Love

While there are no weak elements on display, the key to Zombie Love’s success is the twisted and expansive mind of Berckelaer. She originated the concept in discussions with fellow director Darren Herczeg (whose short, The Boy Princes: A Tragedie Most Monstrous places him in upper echelons of deliciously perverse filmmakers), then ran with it without letting it escape. She’s commented that there’s something fundamentally flawed with the rash of Disney musicals that profess the virtue of “being true to yourself” and that love can be between dissimilar individuals but which then all end with everyone being the same: the beast turns into a beautiful man and the mermaid loses her tail. True love for Berckelaer would have the prince wheeling an enormous fish tank into the bedroom on their wedding night. So Zombie Love has no cop-out ending. Dante and Claudia are fundamentally different, and they’ll never manage a nice dinner party, but that’s no deterrent to love. Now there’s a wholesome lesson for your five-year-olds (provided you don’t mind them seeing a ghoul rip out a victim’s kidney).

As an added bonus, Berckelaer has found a way for me to enjoy the final scrolling credits. I’ve been vocal with my opposition to the ever expanding self-congratulations that mark modern film (I could have sworn a movie was for the audience, not for the filmmaker’s parents-did anyone sit through the phonebook at the end of The Matrix?). However, add a last joke and a poke at an additional music style, and you’ll keep those viewers entertained. I’ve seen Zombie Love in a theater, and no one got up to leave till the lights were turned up. I won’t give away the details because you can see it for yourself. The picture is still young enough to hit a few more festivals, but your best bet is to pick up the DVD, available on the www.zombielovethemovie.com website, which also loops excerpts from the soundtrack.

Zombie Love reinvigorates the sad sack of undead creatures and is brilliant filmmaking from beginning to end. If you think, as I did, that zombie pics had gone to the well too many times, Zombie Love will astound you. It hasn’t found unseen water; it’s dug a whole new well. Berckelaer has given herself a Herculean task: how can she surpass this strikingly original work? I can’t guess, but I can’t wait to find out.