Sometimes called the “Stephen King of children’s literature,” R.L. Stine has inspired bad dreams for decades. The author of hundreds of horror fiction novels for youngsters, including the classic “Goosebumps” series, returns to the big screen this week with “Zombie Town,” a teen horror comedy based on his 2012 novel of the same name.
The action takes place on one eventful night in Carverville, a small town named after legendary b-movie horror director Len Carver (Dan Aykroyd). “This whole town is just a bunch of zombie following idiots,” grumbles Mike (Marlon Kazadi), the only guy in town who doesn’t like zombie movies.
It’s the eve of the premier of Carver’s latest “flesh drenched extravaganza,” his first film in decades. “You’ll laugh! You’ll cry! You’ll kiss your five bucks goodbye!” screams the film’s trailer. Everyone in town is excited except for Mike, who works at the theatre, and will have to watch the film whether he likes it or not.
When Carver takes ill before the show, the screening is cancelled, but Mike’s friend Amy (Madi Monroe) convinces him to give her a private screening. As white light bounces off the blank screen, strange things begin happening. Mike and Amy protect themselves from the weird glow with film cannister lids embossed with an ancient symbol.
The symbol’s mystical power protects them from the film’s magical spell, but outside the theatre, all over town, the good folks of Carverville have been transformed into the living dead. “You have to get over your fear of zombies,” Amy says. “It is just us and them now.”
Mike and Amy realize that if they are to save themselves and their town, they must track down Carver and put an end to his film’s zombie curse.
The zombies in “Zombie Town” may amble around with George A. Romero style menace, but this is no “Night of the Living Dead.” Thrills and chills are few and far between, pitched toward the younger end of the YA scares of “Goosebumps.”
Director Peter Lepeniotis aims for an Amblin PG-13 feel, that mix of plucky young people and the supernatural, but falls just short because the film has no real menace. Sure, the town has been zombified, but the peril and the frights are kept to a minimum. Raising the stakes and ramping up the horror may have given the movie more edge, without risking the alienation of the core audience.
It’s a bit of fun to see Aykroyd ham it up as the tormented filmmaker in “Zombie Town,” and cameos from Chevy Chase, Henry Czerny and “Kids in the Hall” alums Scott Thompson and Bruce McCulloch add some texture, but overall it doesn’t bring quite enough life to the undead.
John Belushi was only famous for five years before his untimely death at age 33 but in that short time his unique comedic quality left an indelible impression that resonates almost forty years later. A new documentary, now streaming on Crave, looks at his meteoric rise and tragic fall.
Director R.J. Cutler uses the usual devices to tell the story. He mixes and matches archival material, animation, ephemera from Belushi’s life—handwritten letters, home movies etc—and news footage but his ace in the hole, the thing that gives “Belushi” its emotional wallop, are the audio interviews that tell the story.
In 2012 author Tanner Colby released a book called “Belushi: A Biography,” an oral history of the life and times of the “SNL” star. Colby did dozens of interviews with the people who knew Belushi best, Lorne Michaels, Dan Ackroyd, Harold Ramis, and friends and family, including John’s wife Judith. Those interviews form the backbone of the film, bringing with them a conversational, intimate and wistful feel.
The story beats are familiar. An uber talented rebel with a sensitive side finds enormous fame—at one point he had the number one comedy show on TV, movie in theatres and album on the charts—but is undone by personal demons. That’s the story in broad strokes. Filling in the small details is the expertly edited oral history who provide first hand details and impressions on Belushi’s life.
Most devastating of all are the handwritten letters from John to Judith that Cutler brings to life. From the playful tone of the early letters sent while they were courting to the final notes, written in desperation as drugs and depression debilitated the actor, these notes, written in a messy scrawl and often containing funny self-help lists, provide more insight into the Belushi’s mind frame that no talking head interview could ever hope.
“Belushi” has gaps. The warts and all depiction of Belushi’s drug habits is front and center but the misogyny of the early “SNL” days, for instance, is brushed over in a quick passage.
Having said that, the doc packs an emotional punch in its final moments as Belushi’s nearest and dearest express regret for allowing their friend to lapse back into heavy drug use. It is heartbreaking stuff on a personal level for them. For the rest of us, as Belushi fans, the cutting short of his potential feels like a cautionary tale of excess and a tragedy of a talent taken way too soon.
Rusty Griswold may have grown up but the humor of the movies that made him famous hasn’t. “Vacation” is a reboot of the “National Lampoon Vacation” series that featured Chevy Chase as the hapless patriarch, Beverley D’ Angelo as his wife, daughter Audrey (played in different movies by Dana Barron, Dana Hill, Juliette Lewis and Marisol Nichols) and Rusty (played variously by Anthony Michael Hall, Jason Lively, Johnny Galecki and Ethan Embry in different movies).
In the new film Ed Helms plays Rusty as a sweet-natured adult, father to James (Skyler Gisondo) and Kevin (Steele Stebbins) and husband to Debbie (Christina Applegate). The family is falling apart and on the eve of their usual summer holiday, a boring trip to a camp that everybody hates, Rusty decides to try something different to bring his family together, a recreation of a childhood road trip with his parents to Walley World.
Anyone who remembers the original 1983 film knows the 2500-mile trip turned into a vacation from hell. It seems Rusty learned nothing from his father’s ill-fated journey. “From the moment we left nothing has gone right,” says Debbie. “Can’t you just admit this was a mistake?” From an angry GPS and a menacing trucker to an inappropriately well-endowed brother-in-law and an open sewer, the trip is fraught with problems.
If not for certain brand of anatomical humour “Vacation” would be about 12 minutes long. Remove the swearing and jokes about sexual acts—Wait! Don’t forget the bodily functions!—there wouldn’t be much going on here. Not that I’m a prude. Far from it. Some of it is genuinely funny. It hits many of the same notes as the original—the father’s verbal break down the extremely unseemly relatives (Leslie Mann and Chris Hemsworth)—but doesn’t have the same good-natured feel. It tries hard to inject some heart into the story in the last half hour but up until then is rough around the edges. Need convincing? Check out the fate of the pretty motorist in the sports car.
Co-directors John Francis Daley and Jonathan Goldstein have a tendency to give away the jokes too soon, but Helms and cast sell the jokes, no matter how raunchy. Particularly good are Gisondo as the sensitive son James and Hemsworth who displays an until now unseen sense of comic timing.
Ultimately “Vacation” is about bringing the Griswold family back together, but it’s not a family movie.
“It’s a membership to the Jelly of the Month Club.”
Who can forget Clark Griswold’s most disappointing Christmas gift ever? Who can for get his reaction?
“Hey! If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I’d like Frank Shirley, my boss, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where’s the Tylenol?”
Now you can share the joy by gifting your own Jelly of the Month Club certificate! More info HERE!
