Cast: Brad Pitt, Mireille Enos
Director: Marc Forster
Rating: Two stars
Director: Marc Forster
Rating: Two stars
Their teeth drum up a be-be-beat, their necks turn into raw meat, their hands-legs-foreheads are fiery red because of a virus, or an intergalactic spray of heat. Oh oh, those undead critters called the zombies are back, out to horrify everyone of the shirts off their backs.
Beware, then, of the Marc Forster-directed 'World War Z', which doesn’t add up to A-class entertainment. It’s an expensively mounted 3-D extravaganza, but the gazillion dollars squandered on it don’t really show up on the screen. Compared to any of the super-hero blockbusters of late, this one pales by comparison, its only appealing element being the presence of Brad Pitt. In fact, the supporting ensemble looks tiresome throughout, led by the excessively mawkish wife played by one Mireille Enos (not to be confused with the fruit salt). Quite strangely, the wonderful German actor Moritz Bleibetreu from 'Run Lola Run' is wasted in the part of a laboratory assistant, which could have been performed by any bit-player.
Anyway, since Gerry Lane (Brad Pitt) – from an United Nations taskforce-- has to save quite a sizeable section of the world from those blood-thirsty zombies, no one else matters. He can do it alone, unaided except by his flowing blonde hair, laser blue eyes and a physique which seems to react chameleon-like to the crises on hand. Obviously, the two years which were expended on script rewrites and a reshoot of the climax, contributed to the film’s and its leading man’s inconsistent look.
But looks shouldn’t matter. It’s the story and telling that count. Right? Kicking off zingily enough with one of those sudden disaster-strikes scenes, the zombiefiesta compels a reluctant Gerry to swing into action. If he doesn’t, that means no official protection for Ms Enos, their two adorable daughters and a fesity Spanish kid who doesn’t seem to care if his biological parents have been neck-sucked to smithereens. Why should he? Brad Pitt gives him a broad grin, a hand-five, besides commanding him, “Okay, so when I’m away look after the ladies.” Spanish kid grins, “Yes, sireee,” all this bonhomie occuring in the midst of mass-scale destruction and tragedy.
Apparently, the script is more concerned about globe-trotting. Hopefully your ears weren’t playing tricks: India is actually mentioned as one of Gerry’s destination points, to which the instant comment is, “India is one black hole.” Really? No time to ponder over that, since the UN warrior has to fly rightaway to South Korea, Jerusalem, Cardiff and Nova Scotia, without ever disclosing a trace of hunger, thirst or fatigue. Correction: he does swig a mini-bottle of vodka to keep his spirits up. Hic!
Meawhile, Ms Enos keeps trying to contact him on phone as if he had lingered far too long at a groceries mall. He’s even given up for dead. Not to worry: it’s a false alarm. After bandaging an Israeli soldier’s decapitated hand, he survives an aircrash, to reach the WHO medical research facility. Since the soldier’s a woman, she accompanies him, looking like a saucer-eyed fan.
Next: the film’s final and most accomplished act. Believe it or faint, the hunt for a wonder vaccine in the facility’s zombie-infested corridors, is executed with sufficient verve and panache. Also the section set in Jerusalem with zombies cascading down a wall, is a nail-biter.
Those are minor rewards though in a major head-spinner. The computer-generated skirmishes and holocaustic destruction just don’t hold together, often compelling you to roll your eyes ceilingwards. As for the zombies, they’ve been seen to more grisly effect in George A Romero’s pulp movie classic 'Night of the Living Dead', dating back to 1968. Zombies were created as more fanciful versions of vampires, but here they appear to be matchstick-thin growlers. Blood isn’t spilled at all, obviously in a bid to get a PG-rating.
Quite sanitised and jerky, 'World War Z' by the director of the Bondflick 'Quantum of Solace', catches Brad Pitt in one of his most mechanical and expressionless performances yet. And to add insult to injury, the imminent production of a sequel is announced, loud and clear. Here’s keeping one’s fingers, toes and eyes crossed. Please don’t. Give the zombies and us a break.
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