Dead Alive

Dead Alive is, without question, the goriest film ever made. It's this unique distinction that convinced me to finally rent the film of which I had heard so much about. It's a famous film for this very reason, a cult classic with all the features that envelope that unique catergory. I had heard of scenes like the "Lawnmower Scene," "The Playground Scene," the "Karate Priest Scene," and had heard of characters like Baby Selwyn. However, I had no idea which film they were in and in what context these absurd scenes would take place. Sure enough, there they were, sprinkled amongst the abundant gore layered throughout virtually every scene in Peter Jackson's most popular film.

There's little use in dissecting the "plot" of Jackson's film. Like his later effort, The Frighteners, the storyline becomes a backseat to the visuals at hand. In this case, the visuals aren't computer generated characters or flourishes. Here, the effects are all of the red variety; the kind that tends to seep into the cracks of the floor and drop from a gaping wound in your chest. Yes, the film is a haven for blood and the millions of ways that a zombie can be killed. The plot seems completely directed at making it so we can watch in wonder as the filmmakers invent new ways to chop a head in half, have blood spurt from a vein in a neck, or have one's intestines spilled out onto the floor.

Anyways, the storyline follows Lionel Cosgrove who gets caught up in something he can't control: everyone is becoming a zombie! What begins as an infestation at a local zoo becomes an all out war against the undead, and it's up to our lovable hero to stop them from taking control of our beloved town. The mother is a crazed lunatic and the romantic interest is oblivious to the threat all around her. Thus sets the stage to what the filmmakers call the beginning of a new generation of horror.

The film zips along in its quest to make you vomit. Oftentimes the most disgusting parts are those that are seemingly treated more casually than the rest. Sure, watching a man pummel through zombies with a lawnmower is kind of gross, but watching a woman slowly eat her own ear with her vanilla pudding is more cause for a restless stomach. There were so many parts like these that I found it impossible to not laugh out loud. Of course, it's what the filmmakers intended. They found the boundaries of taste and did a hop and a skip over them like little kids. They laughed at convention and went farther over-the-top than I had ever seen in any film. For that, I am thankful. My stomach isn't, but I sure am.

After viewing, try to imagine the face of Peter Jackson screaming at his crew, "More blood! More blood! Use buckets!"

On a scale of 1 to 10 walking intestines : 8