The Dead Don't Die

The traditional zombie film finds itself lackadaisically reanimated, as the ravenous undead seek out mortal sustenance, with organic flavouring, in Jim Jarmusch's The Dead Don't Die.

Much less lively than Zombieland or Planet Terror, it cultivates bewildered slow motion, without letting loose moribund haze, or struggling to refine grassroots bemusement.

It's funny.

It's aware of its chillaxed impersonal lounging, the ways in which it would rather present laidback ingenuous cheek than novel paramedic frenzy, and consistently dispassionately suggests that it could have offered more if it had only simply bothered to do so.

Efficiently.

Thus its form harmoniously complements its genre, its dislocated frostbitten content, a zombie film conjuring primordial zombie, like a tasty craft brew considering mass production.

There's no doubt it emits rebellious angst and bedridden drool, like mad productive insomnia regenerating meaningless gumption, as if it sculpted what it means to turn 40, while leaving out cursive progress and ambition.

While viewing I asked myself if the film would still be cool without the star-studded cast, if it would have still lured me in with decadent charm had it been stacked with unknowns.

There are several unknown actors in the film who add curious depth and unsung integrity, but several big names still intermingle, and seem somewhat out of place in hindsight even if they revel in agile somnambulism.

I think it would have succeeded either way.

It likely would have been stronger without the stars in fact, inasmuch as determined unknowns often make nimble impacts in the genres.

The world has been tipped off its axis after fracking in the arctic disrupts polar reckoning.

And as the sun no longer sets with reliability, governments insist there's no cause for alarm.

Shortly thereafter, the undead descend on unsuspecting towns, arising on different days, to illustrate cannibalistic bedlam.

Had alternative energy sources been globally adopted, and cuts to education vilified with legislative resolve, the world would have likely embraced a much less disturbing future, as if working toward planetary goals was expressly paramount.

What will hopefully seem like absurd cool creative storytelling one day doesn't even seem far fetched at the moment.

Isn't it actually easier and less costly to start transitioning to a greener economy than it is to frack the arctic?

Doesn't going green make more sense than that?

You know it does.

And don't tell me there aren't huge profits to be made.

If it costs more to buy a burger made from plants than it does to buy one made from animals that you have to feed and take care of, there are obviously huge profits in green.

Versatile verdure.

Biodiverse trestle.