alan partridge
Active member
SHITTY ZOMBIES
ZOMBIES - should they be able to RUN ?
- Thread starter Easy 10
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alan partridge
Active member
Alan: I’m a zombie! I’m a zombie, I’m dressed as a zombie! I’m Alan Partridge!
[Sophie, Ben and Lynn have now arrived to see what all the fuss is about.]
Michael: Would you come out, please, Mr. Partridge, because guests are not allowed behind reception.
Alan: Alright! Alright. It was just a joke, alright, it’s backfired.
Ben: Is that blood?
Alan: It’s tomato ketchup.
Susan: Why have you got a shower curtain round your neck?
Alan: I’m a zombie, I don’t know! It’s supposed to be a flap of skin or something.
Susan: Did you pull that off one of the showers?
Alan: No, I checked all the rings to make sure I could re-attach them afterwards. Nothing has been damaged.
Michael: Why have you got biscuits sellotaped to your face?
Alan: They’re complimentary, they’re supposed to be flaky skin. I’m a zombie.
Sophie: What’s that hanging down between your legs?
Alan: It’s a flex off a mini-kettle. Supposed to be a tail.
Sophie: Zombies don’t have tails.
Alan: Alright, it’s inconsistent! Zombies, by their very nature, are inconsistent. They’re a mish-mash of different bits.
Ben: No, that’s Frankenstein.
Alan: Right, you’ve made two glaring errors [raises his finger to make the point].
Ben: What’s that on your fingers?
Alan: They’re tungsten-tipped screws, claws. Right, error one – actually, they’re quite good for making a point, aren’t they? Error one, right, Frankenstein was the name of the creator, not the monster. Error two, right, Frankenstein is a zombie. He’s a type of zombie. It’s like people who say Tannoy when they mean public-address system. Tannoy is a brand name. Why are you all staring at me? I’m not having a go at anyone, I’m having a pop at the undead. Do you see any upset zombies around?
Sophie: Just the one.
Alan: This country. [He sweeps his shower curtain / cape grandly and walks off.]
Pevenseagull
meh
- Jul 20, 2003
- 21,571
Quick Zombies?
STUPID, JUST SUPID
next they'll be having Cybermen charging around like something out of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.
STUPID, JUST SUPID
next they'll be having Cybermen charging around like something out of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.
alan partridge
Active member
pevenseagull said:
that would be amazing
Pevenseagull
meh
- Jul 20, 2003
- 21,571
THE VOICE OF REASON:
when do you feel most living dead-ish?
a) when you're running around really quickly
or
b) when you feel like shit and your motions appear slow, laboured and painful?
'nuff said
Now will the quick zombie supporters SHUT IT
when do you feel most living dead-ish?
a) when you're running around really quickly
or
b) when you feel like shit and your motions appear slow, laboured and painful?
'nuff said
Now will the quick zombie supporters SHUT IT
Yoda
English & European
I voted no to start but then also remembered the ones in 28 Days Later.
They were well cool!
They were well cool!
another artcile on it, seems we aint the only ones to debate it to death...pun intended! :
It wasn't long ago that the cinematic undead obeyed the first law of corpse locomotion: A zombie might bleed on you, bite you, or rip out your ribcage, but wouldn't beat you in the 40-yard dash. Along with the Dawn remake, this new breed of souped-up zombie has appeared in recent movies like 28 Days Later (2002), Resident Evil (2002), and House of the Dead (2003). Why, all of a sudden, are the walking dead in such a rush?
For years, the fast zombie was by definition an oxymoron. The word itself can be traced to Creole and West African Bantu and the legend that a voodoo priest could hypnotize a corpse to obey his commands. In Hollywood's not-so-culturally-sensitive early zombie flicks, magically induced catatonia was featured more prominently than reanimation. Bela Lugosi's evil sorcerer "Murder" Legendre hypnotizes Haitian sugar harvesters in White Zombie (1932) so that they grind cane into the wee hours without complaint. Jacques Tourneur's I Walked With a Zombie (1943) centers on a woman who's either the victim of island voodoo brainwashing or just really, really frigid and unresponsive.
The zombie would soon stretch its legs beyond the Caribbean and become an all-purpose horror creature. But with very few exceptions (most notably 1980's Nightmare City), the undead were weighed down by rigor mortis. Lucio Fulci's Zombie (1979) has a fightin' corpse who attacks a shark, but the film ends with a long line of zombies walking ever so slowly across the Brooklyn Bridge. Sam Raimi's Evil Dead trilogy, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator (1985), and Peter Jackson's Dead Alive (1992) brought over-the-top humor and splatter to the genre, but the zombies still walked. In Michael Jackson's long-form Thriller (1983) video, the zombies are walking when they're not line dancing. And just like in the Romero original, the heroine of the 1990 remake Night of the Living Dead is shocked by the pace of the undead hordes: "They're so slow. We could just walk right past them. I wouldn't even have to run."
The oft-repeated image of a slow, walking line of zombies is the best representation of the zombie's place in the scary-movie food chain. In horror, zombies behave more like a creeping plague or a disease than singularly terrifying monsters like Dracula or the Wolfman. Zombies have no individual identity, but rather get their power from membership in a group: It's easy to kill one, but 1,000 indomitable flesh eaters may just overwhelm you.
The creeping zombie column is an effective horror device both because it's a great visual and a good way to wring scares out of a low budget. But, as Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later proved, an independent film shot on digital video no longer needs the slow zombie crutch. When a sputtering, rage-filled priest chases Jim (Cillian Murphy) from a church, or when the survivors outrun a chasing cadre of pallid-looking sickies in a dark tunnel, the rapid-fire action feels authentic, not cheesy or far-fetched. (Some purists argue that the "infected" in 28 Days aren't technically zombies, but the mindless biting and bleeding out the mouth get them well over the bar.)
Rapidly improving CGI technology has had a similar effect on high-budget zombie fare. For instance, the devilishly spry undead dogs who attack the jugular with quick bursts make Resident Evil look more like the video game it's based on than an old-school zombie flick. The effect of corpse-heavy video games is all over the nascent fast-zombie genre. In first-person shooter games, the undead's usual pack mentality is necessarily replaced by zombie exceptionalism: Each creature that jumps out from around the corner has to be an individual—fast, strong, and threatening. Even more so than Resident Evil, the movie version of House of the Dead follows this model, as filmed sequences of running, jumping, and swimming zombies are actually intercut with parallel scenes from the corpse shoot-'em-up video game.
It will be ironic if Snyder's Dawn remake represents the tipping point that makes fast zombies the mainstream. George Romero's Dawn of the Dead, more than any other creature feature, hammered home the slow zombie's metaphorical possibilities. In the first Dawn, scores of shopping-mall-bound corpses ride escalators in an endless loop and wobble listlessly to Muzak. This new Dawn, though one of the best scare movies of the last few years, is far more concerned with zombie style than zombie substance: While Snyder's zombies may be mindless, they're less a consumerist mob than a bunch of high-strung car chasers. Maybe, as blogger Tim Hulsey argues, the obsolescence of the slow zombie signals the decline of "mobocratic" culture in favor of a modern taste for individualism. Or maybe his background as a commercial and music video director makes Snyder constitutionally incapable of creating slow monsters. Either way, the plague of the fast zombies is upon us. Beware!
Josh Levin is a Slate assistant editor. You can e-mail him at sportsnut@slate.com.
It wasn't long ago that the cinematic undead obeyed the first law of corpse locomotion: A zombie might bleed on you, bite you, or rip out your ribcage, but wouldn't beat you in the 40-yard dash. Along with the Dawn remake, this new breed of souped-up zombie has appeared in recent movies like 28 Days Later (2002), Resident Evil (2002), and House of the Dead (2003). Why, all of a sudden, are the walking dead in such a rush?
For years, the fast zombie was by definition an oxymoron. The word itself can be traced to Creole and West African Bantu and the legend that a voodoo priest could hypnotize a corpse to obey his commands. In Hollywood's not-so-culturally-sensitive early zombie flicks, magically induced catatonia was featured more prominently than reanimation. Bela Lugosi's evil sorcerer "Murder" Legendre hypnotizes Haitian sugar harvesters in White Zombie (1932) so that they grind cane into the wee hours without complaint. Jacques Tourneur's I Walked With a Zombie (1943) centers on a woman who's either the victim of island voodoo brainwashing or just really, really frigid and unresponsive.
The zombie would soon stretch its legs beyond the Caribbean and become an all-purpose horror creature. But with very few exceptions (most notably 1980's Nightmare City), the undead were weighed down by rigor mortis. Lucio Fulci's Zombie (1979) has a fightin' corpse who attacks a shark, but the film ends with a long line of zombies walking ever so slowly across the Brooklyn Bridge. Sam Raimi's Evil Dead trilogy, Stuart Gordon's Re-Animator (1985), and Peter Jackson's Dead Alive (1992) brought over-the-top humor and splatter to the genre, but the zombies still walked. In Michael Jackson's long-form Thriller (1983) video, the zombies are walking when they're not line dancing. And just like in the Romero original, the heroine of the 1990 remake Night of the Living Dead is shocked by the pace of the undead hordes: "They're so slow. We could just walk right past them. I wouldn't even have to run."
The oft-repeated image of a slow, walking line of zombies is the best representation of the zombie's place in the scary-movie food chain. In horror, zombies behave more like a creeping plague or a disease than singularly terrifying monsters like Dracula or the Wolfman. Zombies have no individual identity, but rather get their power from membership in a group: It's easy to kill one, but 1,000 indomitable flesh eaters may just overwhelm you.
The creeping zombie column is an effective horror device both because it's a great visual and a good way to wring scares out of a low budget. But, as Danny Boyle's 28 Days Later proved, an independent film shot on digital video no longer needs the slow zombie crutch. When a sputtering, rage-filled priest chases Jim (Cillian Murphy) from a church, or when the survivors outrun a chasing cadre of pallid-looking sickies in a dark tunnel, the rapid-fire action feels authentic, not cheesy or far-fetched. (Some purists argue that the "infected" in 28 Days aren't technically zombies, but the mindless biting and bleeding out the mouth get them well over the bar.)
Rapidly improving CGI technology has had a similar effect on high-budget zombie fare. For instance, the devilishly spry undead dogs who attack the jugular with quick bursts make Resident Evil look more like the video game it's based on than an old-school zombie flick. The effect of corpse-heavy video games is all over the nascent fast-zombie genre. In first-person shooter games, the undead's usual pack mentality is necessarily replaced by zombie exceptionalism: Each creature that jumps out from around the corner has to be an individual—fast, strong, and threatening. Even more so than Resident Evil, the movie version of House of the Dead follows this model, as filmed sequences of running, jumping, and swimming zombies are actually intercut with parallel scenes from the corpse shoot-'em-up video game.
It will be ironic if Snyder's Dawn remake represents the tipping point that makes fast zombies the mainstream. George Romero's Dawn of the Dead, more than any other creature feature, hammered home the slow zombie's metaphorical possibilities. In the first Dawn, scores of shopping-mall-bound corpses ride escalators in an endless loop and wobble listlessly to Muzak. This new Dawn, though one of the best scare movies of the last few years, is far more concerned with zombie style than zombie substance: While Snyder's zombies may be mindless, they're less a consumerist mob than a bunch of high-strung car chasers. Maybe, as blogger Tim Hulsey argues, the obsolescence of the slow zombie signals the decline of "mobocratic" culture in favor of a modern taste for individualism. Or maybe his background as a commercial and music video director makes Snyder constitutionally incapable of creating slow monsters. Either way, the plague of the fast zombies is upon us. Beware!
Josh Levin is a Slate assistant editor. You can e-mail him at sportsnut@slate.com.
Ex Shelton Seagull
New member
To me, Zombies are dead people who have risen from the grave for some reason and now hunt for brains. Because they've risen from their graves, their body parts have detiorated to some extent. This rotting of the body leaves the zombie a rather slow creature because it cannot manipulate it's body parts in the same way as a true living creature.
I'd submit that the "zombies" in 28 Days Later are not zombies at all. They haven't risen from the dead, they have been infected with a disease and have not been killed. Due to this lack of grave-time these creatures have retained all their bodily functions and abilities. They have simply been dubbed "zombies" by lazy media types instead of being called "viral hosts" as they should.
I'd submit that the "zombies" in 28 Days Later are not zombies at all. They haven't risen from the dead, they have been infected with a disease and have not been killed. Due to this lack of grave-time these creatures have retained all their bodily functions and abilities. They have simply been dubbed "zombies" by lazy media types instead of being called "viral hosts" as they should.
lincs seagull
New member
Zombies are dead so the body muscles are stiff and decaying so running is no able to be done.
the sheer scale of the amount of zombies is the thing you are overwhelmed by numbers.
in the remake of dawn of the dead they run like olympians to catch people not so scary as the slow closing in of a mass hoard of walking zombies
the sheer scale of the amount of zombies is the thing you are overwhelmed by numbers.
in the remake of dawn of the dead they run like olympians to catch people not so scary as the slow closing in of a mass hoard of walking zombies
Easy 10
Brain dead MUG SHEEP
- Thread starter
- #33
Look, fast zombies is not a new concept at all. The zombies in Thriller actually dug themselves up out of the ground, they had decomposed beyond all recognition, but once they met Michael, did you see how they DANCED ?! They might have shuffled around a bit at first, but once they got going they were body-popping, moon-walking and crotch-grabbing like there was no tomorrow. Those were some SLICK zombies.
Its not clear in Dawn of the Dead how these people became zombies, but there is a bible-basher on TV claiming that "when there is no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth". In other words, the dead were rising from their graves and attacking the living. Now perhaps the ones who had risen from the grave were not too light on their pins, but their victims, who up until bitten were alive and well, would not be in a badly decomposed state and so would be able to run.
They're still zombies as they have been infected by the zombie virus. But they can still run fast because they are "fresh" zombies.
That holds water for me.
Its not clear in Dawn of the Dead how these people became zombies, but there is a bible-basher on TV claiming that "when there is no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth". In other words, the dead were rising from their graves and attacking the living. Now perhaps the ones who had risen from the grave were not too light on their pins, but their victims, who up until bitten were alive and well, would not be in a badly decomposed state and so would be able to run.
They're still zombies as they have been infected by the zombie virus. But they can still run fast because they are "fresh" zombies.
That holds water for me.
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Pevenseagull
meh
- Jul 20, 2003
- 21,571
the 'fresh zombie' excuse is an interesting spin.
but you can still shove it up your jacksie.
but you can still shove it up your jacksie.
Barnet Seagull
Luxury Player
The whole point of zombies is the suffocating numbers. The inevitable doom. The despair.
It's quite frankly bollocks having running zombies. I blame Hollywood.
What next? Teenage Basketball playing Werewolves? Fucks sake.
It's quite frankly bollocks having running zombies. I blame Hollywood.
What next? Teenage Basketball playing Werewolves? Fucks sake.
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Barnet Seagull
Luxury Player
CrabtreeBHA said:
Crabtree you fucktard.
You can shoot loads of zombies. That's the point.
But there's always more zombies and never enough bullets. It's the realization that you'll eventually run out of bullets and be left to be devoured with no defence. Top zombie stuff.
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Set of Tracksuits
Active member
alan partridge said:
Aha!! So, if zombie are inconsistent, there's no reason why some can't be fast, while others are slow.
(This evidence is indisputable, having been uttered by the great man himself).