To borrow a quote, borrowed from the film Ouanga by the author, “Oh, the whole thing has me… confused.”
The publisher, McFarland Press, began as a
library-oriented publisher, publishing monographs and “comprehensive reference
works on a variety of subjects”. The
“Performing Arts 2006 – 2007” catalogue reflects this tendency, presenting a
wide array of books addressing an interesting variety of topics, many of which
with a critical, reference, or anthological bent. ‘The Zombie Movie Encyclopedia’ is my first
exposure to the publisher’s style of presentation. The publisher claims their “books are
manufactured to the highest specifications”.
This is exhibited by the colorful glossy hardcover surrounding the
contents, which will survive many a spilled beverage and repeated reading.
As to the contents of the book, the
catalogue listed it as an “exhaustive overview” and the back cover of the book
claims to be a “comprehensive reference” that “covers more than 200 movies
produced in 16 countries over more than six decades (1932-1998)”. This book did present a wider variety of
films than I have seen covered in other horror film anthologies that share this
format. [A relatively common format,
presenting an introductory essay or essays, followed by an alphabetically, or
chronologically listed selection of reviews/synopses.] The problems I have are the terms
“exhaustive” and “comprehensive” when used to address film genres that continue
to grow and evolve. Not only does the
“zombie” sub-genre of horror films continue to expand and evolve, but the
author’s criteria for consideration was unclear.
Before I address this lack of clarity,
allow me to establish that I genuinely enjoyed the author’s introduction. I found it to be an excellent introduction
for anyone unfamiliar with the zombie film, and a pleasant review of the
historical evolution of the zombie film subgenre for knowledgeable horror film
enthusiasts. The author also briefly
and clearly interweaves most of the critical theories put forth in discussion
of the themes present in and underlying most zombie films.
The author in the section of his
introduction titled, “Definition, Scope, and Principles of Selection”, puts
forth definitions of his criteria for what makes a zombie film, and takes pains
to explain his reasons for exclusion of similar films, such as “mummy” movies,
“ghost” movies, those possessed by demonic forces, and those who are overtaken
by the symptoms of a behavior altering disease. Despite these limitations, there were a
pleasant variety of films addressed, and almost all of the films which I
expected to be addressed in a book of this title were covered. [The George Romero ‘…of the Dead’ Trilogy,
Fulci’s Spaghetti Zombie films, the miscellany of drive-in B movies with
“zombie” in the title, as well as films from early film history.]
The book does present a satisfactory range
of selections from history of film, and if this film had presented itself as an
overview or anthology, for which it is indeed sufficient, my complaint
regarding cohesiveness of inclusion would be unfounded.
But I found the author’s inconsistency
troubling. The author includes a
segment of a Simpsons’ Treehouse of Horror Episode and one Scooby Doo feature
length release, as well as a part of the infamous animated feature Heavy
Metal (1981), but these selections are confusing. If one is going to include two references to
zombies in animation, one of which being a part of an episode, it would be
difficult to justify the exclusion of all other incidents of zombies in
animation, which would make for a lengthy work on its own. Better to exclude animated selections in the
introduction than to include them minimally and peripherally and claim
“comprehensiveness”.
In the introduction, the author writes,
“this book will limit coverage to movies in which the creatures are actually
revived corpses, or are explicitly referred to as zombies.”
I recognize and appreciate
that it is difficult to make strict distinctions among zombies, the undead, the
re-animated, the products of scientific experiments, ghouls, cannibals,
automatons, cyborgs, mutants, aliens, parasites, symbiotes, and the sufferers
of the ravages of disease, pollution, or nuclear radiation, since often the
boundaries between these concepts blur as the argument of what the boundaries
between life and death are, and the difference between what is a part of and
what is apart from the self and one’s body.
The author does an admirable job of defining his criteria.
But if the Frankenstein monster was
cobbled together from dead bodies and brought back to life by science, doesn’t
that make him a zombie? Which would
bring in the long legacy of films inspired by Mary Shelley’s novel. And if so, then what about Robocop, another
dead person brought to life again by technology. And how are Frankenstein and Robocop
different from the girl in Wes Craven’s ‘Deadly Friend’, returned to life by a
skull implant, which is included for consideration in this anthology?
Perhaps I’m just being nitpicky. My “Frankenstein is a zombie” argument is a
personal pet peeve, and I admit that part of the fun of reading anthologies
that claim to be authoritative or exhaustive is trying to think of those films
that were not included, and discussing these inconsistencies with fellow fans
of horror films.
The author’s reviews are concise, succinct,
and appropriate for the most part, but at times the author indulges in the urge
to treat some films with an ill-humored derisiveness, which seemed
unnecessarily harsh. I accept that the
derivative, threadbare plots; minimal and transparent “special” effects; and
uninspired performances, sometimes test the patience of even the most
enthusiastic “zombie” film enthusiast.
But it seems that comments, like, “Amateur, juvenile, and depressing,
‘Flesheater’ is mostly a waste of a good barn.”, add little to the
insightfulness of the entry for the film, instead it seems like taking
unnecessarily mean-spirited effort to point out a film’s deficiencies, rather
than mentioning what the film’s strengths or points of interest were. Especially considering that the author
claims in the second paragraph of the introduction that he is “not as
interested in the quality of the films as in the attention and creativity they
devote to their particular treatment of the zombie.” The reviews do even out over the length of the
book, but this weighs in as another example of a disturbing trend in these kind
of anthology books. Authors who claim
to be enthusiasts of the type of film the book addresses who go on to
mean-spiritedly deride many of the less aesthetically pleasing films selected
for consideration. John McCarty did not
indulge in this tendency to malign during his career of writing the anthologies
that seem to have inspired contemporary composers of themed horror anthologies,
but perhaps this tendency to sarcastically critique the films we claim to like
is simply reflective of our times.
The above faults aside, this book was a
pleasant, easy, read, and inspired me to revisit the zombie movies in my DVD
library and look for some of those which I had not yet experienced. In the words of George A. Romero, “Stay
Scared.”
Listed at $35 in the catalogue, the price
is somewhat prohibitive. This is the
kind of book that it’s a pleasure to peruse at the bookstore, but I rarely have
the opportunity (or more importantly the spare cash) to purchase for
myself. Books that intend on passing
for reference books or college textbooks often have inflated prices as anyone
that has ever had to buy a college textbook surely knows.
Although if there’s anyone out there that
doesn’t find the $35 price tag prohibitive, I’d be pleased to receive a copy of
McFarland’s “Universal Horrors: The Studio’s Classic Films, 1931-1946” for
review weighing in with a cover price of $55.00
On the internet:
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers: www.mcfarlandpub.com
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