Thursday, December 6, 2007

Black Sheep and other Zombies

Last night Mr. H. and I watched Black Sheep a lovely little film about a New Zealand farm boy who returns to the farm 15 years after his father dies to deal with his fear of sheep and collect his half of the money his brother is making by selling the farm to bioengineers.

Have I mentioned Mr. H.'s love of all things zombie? I'm not sure what the deal is, some traumatic childhood experience possibly, that has led to this obsession. Maybe it's because he hails from a country that eats things like black pudding and haggis. Who knows. Anyway, he loves himself some zombie movies. Of course he's a fan of the father of all zombie movies, Night of the Living Dead, and all of the Living Dead series - but hey, who isn't? But he literally eats up any movie with a zombie in it - Pet Sematary, 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, Resident Evil, Slither. These are all pretty main stream variations on a theme zombie movies. Something happens, either man induced or extra terrestrial and people start to rise from the dead and start eating people. Not the best after dinner movie, but whatever.

Lately, however, he's been branching out into other zombie themes. Most notably animals as zombies. The sheep in Black Sheep become zombies because humans can not just leave well enough alone and must play around with sheep DNA, even going so far as to cross our own with theirs. This leads to rabid zombie sheep who when they bite you (and they do bite) turn you into one of them, hooves and all. This makes Black Sheep more of a zombie/weresheep movie. Fun for the whole family. Another recent zombie flick I've been force.. er enjoyed is Fido. Zombies in this movie have been tamed and now do all the jobs that only illegal immigrants currently do - housekeepers and yard workers. A boy takes his zombie and turns him into a pet, Fido, and, well as with all zombie movies, it just doesn't turn out well.

Anyway, I can't blame the zombie movies all on Mr. H., I mean, I do encourage him. A few Christmases ago I bought him the complete Living Dead series (even the remake of Dawn of the Dead - which is a personal favorite). This year for his birthday, I bought him glow in the dark zombie figurines. I only really complain about his zombie obsession when I wake up and find him gnawing on my leg.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I swear, I take one tiny nibble and I’m labeled a zombie. Anyway, I thought it was a chicken wing. You tend to apply a lot of different skin creams at night, and I will not be held responsible for the olfactory consequences of these anti-wrinkle, moisturizing, fake tanning, skin tightening, exfoliating concoctions invading my slumber and prompting me into hitherto unfathomable acts of marginal cannibalism. Which in and of itself is an important distinction I would like duly noted. I was, though dead to the world, quite alive in all physiological and quasi-spiritual respects when I took the bite in question, and therefore should not be considered a zombie. Honestly, such fuss over one little chunk of flesh. It didn’t even tide me over until lunch. I had to eat the intern’s brain just to stop my stomach from grumbling.

lone star observer said...

It's understandable that these kinds of things can happen when a once joyous and glee filled vessel of light and love becomes reduced to a smoldering mass of petrified anguish and strangled despair.

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