Editorials
We Need to Talk About the Pathology of the Zombie Virus on “The Walking Dead”
The thirteenth episode of the second season of “The Walking Dead” is a particularly noteworthy hour, as it was the one wherein Rick revealed to the group that it’s not actually a bite from a zombie, per se, that turns one into a zombie. “We’re all infected,” Rick told the group. “At the CDC, Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it.”
In other words, *anyone* who dies in the world of “The Walking Dead,” unless that death causes their brain to be destroyed, will return to life as a walker. We’ve seen this exact sort of scenario play out before, perhaps most notably with Shane; Shane was stabbed in the chest by Rick, and soon thereafter re-animated as a zombie.
But we’ve also seen bites turn humans into zombies, right? Well, not exactly. We have indeed seen several characters die after sustaining zombie bites, but it’s actually been the infection and/or loss of blood, brought on by those bites, that has ultimately killed them. So it’s not the bite that infects characters in this world with the “zombie virus,” so to speak. Rather, they’re all already infected with the airborne virus, doomed to the fate of returning to life as flesh-eaters whether they die from a bite or heart attack.
That’s all pretty easy to wrap your head around, but why then did a character like Carl have to die after being bitten by a zombie? The bite itself wasn’t severe enough to cause Carl to bleed out, but the infection that the bite caused did end up taking Carl’s life. With the right antibiotics, given what Carl’s own father told us about the pathology of the virus back in Season 2, couldn’t Carl’s life have been saved? If the infection that the bite caused had been cleared up with the proper medicine, couldn’t he have survived?
Knowing what the show has told us, and knowing what Rick himself most definitely knows, why did Rick not at least make an attempt to get the infection under control?
In the wake of this past Sunday night’s episode, I find myself even further confused about the pathology of the virus. Last night, we saw that Father Gabriel has been infected by what appears to be a lesser form of the zombie virus, presumably as a result of his recent exploits with the show’s patented “zombie cloaking device” technique; Gabriel and Negan covered themselves in walker guts to avoid detection, which seems to have passed some sort of infection into Gabriel’s bloodstream. Not, however, into Negan’s.
Gabriel has been slowly dying from the infection, and last night he was rendered almost completely blind cause of it. And yet, the infection isn’t going to actually kill Gabriel, it seems, as happenstance (or perhaps it was a divine act from God himself) led to him stumbling upon a couple bottles of antibiotics. It seems the antibiotics will get Gabriel’s infection under control, at least for the time being, thereby saving his life. So if antibiotics can save Gabriel from zombie-transmitted infection, why not Carl?
To add even more confusion to this whole thing, the episode ended with Negan devising a new plan of attack. Partially inspired by Gabriel’s health troubles, Negan realized that the blood of zombies can be used to intentionally infect his adversaries. The Saviors are going to coat their weapons in infected zombie blood, allowing them to administer “kisses of death” at their leisure. Presumably, this form of infection will play out similarly to Gabriel’s, rendering untreated victims sick, blind and, eventually, dead.
Negan told his group, “You all know how it works. You get a bite, some kind of wound from one of these things, something from them gets in you, and you die.”
But wait a second. Didn’t we learn in Season 2 that EVERYONE is *already* infected, the virus inside of them only triggering upon their death? If that’s the case in the world of “The Walking Dead,” then why is Gabriel even infected after playing around with zombie guts? Similarly, why would a stab from a zombie blood-covered knife do anything more to a human character than a stab from a knife *not* covered in zombie blood? Well, according to what the show has shown us in the recent past, it actually wouldn’t.
Not only have characters multiple times rubbed zombie blood and guts all over themselves, without getting infected, but you may remember an incident involving a machete and Rick’s hand back in Season 6. In that season’s third episode, titled “Thank You,” Rick cut his hand on a machete that was literally embedded inside of a zombie. The machete was no doubt covered in that zombie’s blood, which presumably got into the fresh wound on Rick’s hand. Alas, however, Rick never got infected.
So again we ask, how exactly does one get infected with the zombie virus on “The Walking Dead”? Is every remaining human on the planet, as revealed in Season 2, already infected, or does it require a bite and/or zombie blood entering one’s bloodstream in order for one to become infected? If the former is the case, Gabriel’s infection doesn’t make much sense, nor does Carl’s 100% unavoidable death or Negan’s new plan. These continuity issues date back much further, as you surely remember Hershel’s leg being cut off in order to stop the spread of the infection after he was bitten back in Season 3. You could argue that zombie DNA exacerbates the infection already inside everyone, but again we point to the incident involving a machete and Rick’s hand.
Are we missing something or are the rules ever-changing to fit current narratives?
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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