Even though it's a more than a classic, the beginning of an entire horror genre, I don't revisit this often. When I do, I find it still feels special, even after the zombie menace has seen so many permutations in the years since. It’s simple and sparse and bleak in a way that’s arresting: one house, one truck, one gun, six people, one horde of the undead.
Within that small context it explores the fledgling…
A slave to its format, which is no longer a novelty, this wanders into hazy technical territory and weaves a narrative that puzzles without frightening, and makes a distracting mess in the process.
In Jesse Eisenberg's major film debut, his blend of awkwardness, precociousness, and perfect comic timing are already almost fully developed. This is a memorable little story with a lot of sharp dialogue mostly delivered by Campbell Scott as his character misguidedly attempts to shepherd Eisenberg's into manhood to distract himself from his own continuing failure to grow up.
I guess I'm missing something. Plenty of boobs here, but otherwise pretty flat. It certainly isn't scary, and there seemed to be a lot of missed opportunities to be creepier. Plus, sadly a waste of Christopher Lee's talent for playing the bad guy so damn good.
