Editorials

Just. Keep. Moving. Existential Angst With ‘Anna and the Apocalypse’

Published

3 years ago

March 17, 2021

Aside from, say, my literal face, you’d have better luck finding a working Ninja Baseball Batman arcade cabinet than something uglier than 2020 and, unfortunately, the beginning moments of this new year. If you took a hint from my smidge of self-deprecating humor there, you’d also take no surprise in knowing I’m a masochist, apparently. I say that because this year — of all the years, holy crap — I chose to watch Anna and the Apocalypse for the first time, and a second time rather recently. Some would say this isn’t the greatest decision one could make during these trying times, and those people would theoretically be right.

Although, as it turns out, Anna and the Apocalypse is a lot more complicated — and a refreshing change-up for its genre — of a movie than its title, and synopsis, might suggest. For one thing, it’s a zombie/musical hybrid; picture it like Zombieland crossed with The Prom. But while that sounds tantalizing enough on its own, it’s actually a bit misleading. While it claims to be something more jovial and irreverent on the surface — which it certainly is, to a degree — the film is shockingly morbid and devastating in all the most profound ways.

The story is fairly simple: Anna (Ella Hunt) is on the verge of finishing her last semester before going off to study at university before a zombie plague breaks out and sends the town, and the rest of the country, into chaos. Anna and her crew of friends find themselves stuck in the middle of full-blown zombie anarchy, featuring musical numbers, run-ins with douchey guys you’re not exactly on good terms with, and plenty of the ole’ zombie smashing. Hey, Anna even ends up using a candy cane prop as her weapon of choice in the slaying! Fun! Sure, it’s a dire situation, but who amongst us hasn’t ever romanticized the idea of warding off zombies with our friends?

But then there’s, well, everything else. In Anna and the Apocalypse, one minute you’re watching a genuine banger of a zombie-killing-musical-montage, and before you know it Anna’s best friend is being mauled to death just before he can express the feelings he has for her. It’s shocking, exceedingly sad, and somewhat abrupt — but not necessarily in a bad way. Nearly the entire movie is filled with moments like these. Encased within its shell of jovial musical aesthetic and disregard for the rules is a tale that feels vulnerable; it feels a lot like an allegory for what it’s been like these last several months trying our best to keep pushing forward even as the world burns around us.

We — us internet folk, especially — often make jokes about the atrocities that life launches our way as some sort of safety mechanism. In a literal pandemic, and a literal storming of the US Capitol building, one only needs to log onto that blue bird app and you’ll be greeted by any number of funny posts that’ll distract you from the potential atrophy your mental state is undergoing. The pessimistic among us might say only the most privileged and unaffected of people could produce, or appreciate, humor during times like these, but that’s probably a bit unfair. Humor is comforting, and necessary, man. In real life, we have the internet and memes, and in Anna and the Apocalypse, there’s musical cheer. They’re distractions, but sometimes that’s all there is.

There’s one scene, in particular, that might resonate with this the most. Early on in the film, Anna and her friends camp out inside of a bowling alley just after the outbreak has truly started kicking off. As the night goes on, the group watches through the window as the army begins to move in, bombing the town to oblivion in an effort to keep things under control, all accompanied by a musical number. It’s a surreal, almost resplendent, sequence of characters standing by as the world is literally on fire. Yet the beauty of it, is that’s all the characters can do — that ever-familiar feeling of helplessness that sometimes, just as the crew does, you’re forced to simply go to bed and attempt to keep chugging along through.

By the end of Anna and the Apocalypse, nearly all of the gang is dead — including Anna’s own father, who she had been searching for the entire movie — and we’re left with the unlikely trio of Anna, her douchey one-night-stand pal Nick (Ben Wiggins), and Steph (Sarah Swire), who’s barely close with either of them, driving off, completely beaten-down, mortified, and unaware of what this horrible timeline has in store for them next. Getting to the end of 2020 was a lot like that. You’re (hopefully) not giving up, but it’s hardly an upbeat affair. The pain is still there, in spite of all cheerfulness you try to muster, and it sends a message about what it’s like living with tragedy and how, sometimes, all you can do is keep moving. Will it get better? Hopefully, yes, but that’s hardly even the point.

I consider myself a misunderstood ghoul; often times people are surprised and perplexed by what movies I find to be the most depressing. Sure, I’ve cried after watching any number of sad moments, from the ending of A Star is Born to Avengers: Endgame, but that’s different than the depressingly sad reality that the totality of this zombie/musical hybrid created. A movie that seems to be connecting to something deeper — something more real, almost in an exceptionally ordinary way — is what’s toughest for me. It sticks with you, because of how unceremonious it all feels.

Deciding to watch Anna and the Apocalypse this year, of all times, made for an incredibly depressing experience. It broke me; it chewed up my naïve and presumptuous self and spit me out onto the street to be run over; it enveloped whatever little serotonin I had with a dark fog of dread. In a way, it was as surprising, and relentless, of a movie experience as any I’ve had this year. It channels that feeling of existential angst we all have when witnessing the atrocities of the world more than its happy-go-lucky exterior would have you believe. But, at the same time, it also made the experience all the more powerful, and, unfortunately, relevant.

Editorials

Finding Faith and Violence in ‘The Book of Eli’ 14 Years Later

Published

1 day ago

April 22, 2024

Luiz H. C.

Having grown up in a religious family, Christian movie night was something that happened a lot more often than I care to admit. However, back when I was a teenager, my parents showed up one night with an unusually cool-looking DVD of a movie that had been recommended to them by a church leader. Curious to see what new kind of evangelical propaganda my parents had rented this time, I proceeded to watch the film with them expecting a heavy-handed snoozefest.

To my surprise, I was a few minutes in when Denzel Washington proceeded to dismember a band of cannibal raiders when I realized that this was in fact a real movie. My mom was horrified by the flick’s extreme violence and dark subject matter, but I instantly became a fan of the Hughes Brothers’ faith-based 2010 thriller, The Book of Eli. And with the film’s atomic apocalypse having apparently taken place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to dive into why this grim parable might also be entertaining for horror fans.

Originally penned by gaming journalist and The Walking Dead: The Game co-writer Gary Whitta, the spec script for The Book of Eli was already making waves back in 2007 when it appeared on the coveted Blacklist. It wasn’t long before Columbia and Warner Bros. snatched up the rights to the project, hiring From Hell directors Albert and Allen Hughes while also garnering attention from industry heavyweights like Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

After a series of revisions by Anthony Peckham meant to make the story more consumer-friendly, the picture was finally released in January of 2010, with the finished film following Denzel as a mysterious wanderer making his way across a post-apocalyptic America while protecting a sacred book. Along the way, he encounters a run-down settlement controlled by Bill Carnegie (Gary Oldman), a man desperate to get his hands on Eli’s book so he can motivate his underlings to expand his empire. Unwilling to let this power fall into the wrong hands, Eli embarks on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of his faith.

SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Judging by the film’s box-office success, mainstream audiences appear to have enjoyed the Hughes’ bleak vision of a future where everything went wrong, but critics were left divided by the flick’s trope-heavy narrative and unapologetic religious elements. And while I’ll be the first to admit that The Book of Eli isn’t particularly subtle or original, I appreciate the film’s earnest execution of familiar ideas.

For starters, I’d like to address the religious elephant in the room, as I understand the hesitation that some folks (myself included) might have about watching something that sounds like Christian propaganda. Faith does indeed play a huge part in the narrative here, but I’d argue that the film is more about the power of stories than a specific religion. The entire point of Oldman’s character is that he needs a unifying narrative that he can take advantage of in order to manipulate others, while Eli ultimately chooses to deliver his gift to a community of scholars. In fact, the movie even makes a point of placing the Bible in between equally culturally important books like the Torah and Quran, which I think is pretty poignant for a flick inspired by exploitation cinema.

Sure, the film has its fair share of logical inconsistencies (ranging from the extent of Eli’s Daredevil superpowers to his impossibly small Braille Bible), but I think the film more than makes up for these nitpicks with a genuine passion for classic post-apocalyptic cinema. Several critics accused the film of being a knockoff of superior productions, but I’d argue that both Whitta and the Hughes knowingly crafted a loving pastiche of genre influences like Mad Max and A Boy and His Dog.

Lastly, it’s no surprise that the cast here absolutely kicks ass. Denzel plays the title role of a stoic badass perfectly (going so far as to train with Bruce Lee’s protégée in order to perform his own stunts) while Oldman effortlessly assumes a surprisingly subdued yet incredibly intimidating persona. Even Mila Kunis is remarkably charming here, though I wish the script had taken the time to develop these secondary characters a little further. And hey, did I mention that Tom Waits is in this?

AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Denzel’s very first interaction with another human being in this movie results in a gory fight scene culminating in a face-off against a masked brute wielding a chainsaw (which he presumably uses to butcher travelers before eating them), so I think it’s safe to say that this dog-eat-dog vision of America will likely appeal to horror fans.

From diseased cannibals to hyper-violent motorcycle gangs roaming the wasteland, there’s plenty of disturbing R-rated material here – which is even more impressive when you remember that this story revolves around the bible. And while there are a few too many references to sexual assault for my taste, even if it does make sense in-universe, the flick does a great job of immersing you in this post-nuclear nightmare.

The excessively depressing color palette and obvious green screen effects may take some viewers out of the experience, but the beat-up and lived-in sets and costume design do their best to bring this dead world to life – which might just be the scariest part of the experience.

Ultimately, I believe your enjoyment of The Book of Eli will largely depend on how willing you are to overlook some ham-fisted biblical references in order to enjoy some brutal post-apocalyptic shenanigans. And while I can’t really blame folks who’d rather not deal with that, I think it would be a shame to miss out on a genuinely engaging thrill-ride because of one minor detail.

With that in mind, I’m incredibly curious to see what Whitta and the Hughes Brothers have planned for the upcoming prequel series starring John Boyega…

There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.