.

Watched on: Shudder

Ran: 7.28 miles, 9’28”/mile, 01:08:58 (slow recovery run)

 

It’s a funny thing about long-distance running: when it’s just me, the rhythm of my stride, and the miles unspooling beneath my feet, a sort of meditative trance can settle upon me like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow. The concerns of the physical plane recede into the groove my cadence is carving into the ground beneath me, everything becomes quiet and clear, and that’s when the eternal questions start to pass through my head on their way to forevermore. Like, how best are we to spend our finite and fleeting minutes on this earth? And, is death the end, or just the beginning? And, most importantly, what would happen if Lucky McKee threw Bring It On and The Craft in a Vitamix, tossed in a sprig of Heathers, and blended the absolute living hell out of it?

 

Luckily for me, tonight’s flick was All Cheerleaders Die, so at least I finally have the answer to that last one. To be clear, I’m talking about the 2013 remake, not the original 2001 film that McKee and Chris Sivertson made fresh out of college, which I’ve yet to see because it went straight to video and is pretty tough to find these days. McKee and Sivertson called for a redo once they’d each had some more experience at the whole filmmaking thing. Let’s take a peek, shall we?

 

It’s a few days before her senior year, and Mäddy has never been the cheerleader type (as if the umlaut doesn’t tip you off), so no one understands why she’s trying out for the squad—least of all her Wiccan ex-girlfriend Leena, still heartbroken and stalkery. But Mäddy has a makeover, a new wardrobe, and serious gymnastics chops, so she makes the cut and ingratiates herself with the In Crowd. Turns out she’s on a secret mission to wreck the cheerleaders’ and football team’s senior year from the inside—does this have something to do with the accidental death of Lexi, the squad captain, three months ago? After all, Lexi’s boyfriend Terry (the team captain) sure hooked up with her best friend Tracy in a hurry.

 

Anyway, Mäddy’s doing a bang-up job with the sabotage; she convinces Tracy that Terry’s been cheating on her, and even manages to seduce Tracy at the end-of-summer post-rally cheerleaders ’n’ football players blowout held at the local cemetery. This doesn’t go over super-well with Terry, who loses his temper, punches Tracy in the face, and winds up running Mäddy, Tracy, and two other cheerleaders off a cliff in a road rage car chase and then fleeing the scene. Mäddy’s ex Leena, still in stalker mode, pulls the bodies from the water and uses Magic Rainbow Stones™ to raise them all from the dead.

 

So now we’ve got four undead cheerleaders walking around school with glowing rocks in their bodies, and they’re up for vengeance, and also they’re super strong but kinda need to keep feeding on fresh human blood. Oh, and two of them, sisters Hanna and Martha, have switched bodies Freaky Friday-style, because there’s a whole B-story about Hanna being in love with Martha’s boyfriend. And also there’s sort of a gestalt hive thing going on where they all feel it when any of them is feeding, hurting, or, uh, gettin’ intimate. But the thing is, they’re not being very subtle about any of this, so even the football players start figuring out the rules of the game. When Terry steals the rest of Leena’s magic stones to use against them, who’s finally coming out on top—especially when Mäddy’s secret ulterior motives turn the squad against her?

 

Okay, so, All Cheerleaders Die is far from a perfect movie. The dialogue, while reminiscent of the sort of smart, elevated version of teenspeak that we’ve seen in Clueless, Bring It On, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer on TV, doesn’t quite measure up to that degree of snappiness. The special effects aren’t all that special, certainly where the CGI is concerned (the floating blood is especially fake-looking), but I get the sense that’s sort of the joke, which is awfully convenient when you think about it. Pretty much any scene in which the magic stones are glowing Lite Brite colors and flying around is sorta cringeworthy on that front, especially in the climax.

 

And speaking of that scene, I honestly could have done without the cheesy musical reference to the Nazi face-melting scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark—I get it, we’re not supposed to be taking this movie seriously because the people who made it sure didn’t, but I gotta say, I was emotionally invested in the story at that point, and one dumb joke took me right out of it. That kind of gets to the heart of why All Cheerleaders Die doesn’t quite live up to its promise or its premise: it’s sort of a parody and sort of an homage, but it never really quite makes up its mind. As a result, there’s a fair bit of empathetic whiplash when you start caring about something or someone and then sense that the film actually wants you to be making fun of it, but not really, but definitely yes (while shaking its head no).

 

But yes (definitely, definitely yes), I liked All Cheerleaders Die despite its flaws. It’s got a weirdly fresh vibe for a semi-parody of what came before, its central love story is effective and affecting (not to mention refreshingly non-heteronormative), and the crazy tonal shifts between, say, Disney-style goofy body switching and truly horrifying graphic violence are all part of the game. Give it a go, especially if you’re a fan of both horror flicks and the more pedestrian feel-good teen movies from which this mash-up originates.

 

That’s… that’s not just me, is it?…

 

Watched on: Shudder, but it’s also on Amazon Prime

Ran: 7.04 miles, 8’52”/mile, 01:02:24 (bad-day recovery run)

 

So I had kind of a day, if ya know what I mean, and thus I bailed on my original plan to run long and slow over a meditative viewing of Argento’s Suspiria, because my mood would have ruined the experience. Instead I first went looking for something irredeemably violent and evil in hopes of catharsis, but after passing over a half-dozen perfectly suitable candidates without much enthusiasm, I realized what I really needed was something to make me laugh.

 

If you spend any time among horror fans you may encounter the occasional dude (it’s pretty much always a dude) who insists that there’s no such thing as “horror comedy,” that comedy has no place in horror because if you’re laughing you must not be scared. That seems like a sad way to go through life, but hey, it takes all kinds—and my kind just happens to like the occasional chocolate in my peanut butter and peanut butter on my chocolate. And the mix can indeed go a lot of ways; for instance, I don’t think anyone’s going to deny that Evil Dead II is both scary as hell and also achingly funny at times. But tonight’s flick is Night of the Living Deb, which is… not that.

 

It’s important that I make this crystal clear: NotLD is pretty much a straight-up lighthearted romantic comedy with zombies running around. It is not scary. At all. I mean, maybe if you literally never watch anything even close to horror you might be a little freaked out to see zombies lurching around and getting hit by cars and decapitated by shotgun blasts, but at no point in NotLB will you ever feel that the protagonists are in danger, nor are you supposed to. If you have a problem with that, by all means, move along.

 

That said, while NotLD doesn’t horrify, I still consider it to be a horror film (and I guess Shudder agrees with me). It mines much of its humor from the well-known tropes of the zombie apocalypse, so open-minded horror fans might get a few more chuckles than someone unfamiliar with the oeuvre, but I do honestly feel that anyone in the mood for a mellow romcom would enjoy this movie. You wind up with lines like “Why do you have coconut water? Is this Maine, or Gilligan’s Island?” alongside “Dude, why are you eating a foot?!”

 

The setup is a simple one. Deb is a super-awkward but spunky redhead—redheads in movies are either spunky or sultry… or witches, I guess—who musters enough courage to chat up Ryan (Portland, Maine’s Prettiest Man™) in a bar on Independence Day Eve. Cut to the next morning, when Deb wakes up in Ryan’s bed and doesn’t remember anything about the night before. Ryan seems just as confused but clearly feels the evening was a mistake. That might have been the end of Deb-and-Ryan (Reb? Dyan? Debby Ryan?), except, oh no! A zombie apocalypse has descended in the night! To make matters worse, it’s increasingly clear that Ryan’s tree-hugger ways clash with Deb’s down-to-earth sensibilities, but this reluctant odd couple thrust together by circumstance must work together to fend off the horde, get to Ryan’s dad’s mansion, and escape Portland with Ryan’s brother and his UH-OH, FIANCÉE in the governor’s helicopter. Oh, did I mention that Ryan’s dad’s company started the whole zombie outbreak in the first place? Hijinks ensue!

 

Let’s not mince words: NotLB could have been appallingly awful. It could have been a “hey, I thought of a punny title, let’s make a movie” movie. But you could say the same of Shaun of the Dead and that’s a modern classic, so who’s to judge? Well, I’ll tell you: me. I’m to judge. And while NotLD isn’t the love of my life, it’s definitely the fun acquaintance with whom I’d gladly while away an evening in the bar. Mostly this is because of Deb, who is perfectly portrayed by Maria Thayer (oh my GOD, it’s Tammi Littlenut from Strangers With Candy! Jeez I’m old). I could watch and listen to Deb all night, awkwardly spouting movie quotes and Longfellow poems. But the real key is the chemistry between Deb and Ryan—not so much romantic, but comedic. The bickering between them is perfection and there’s little I appreciate more than good characterization and snappy dialogue.

 

This was my second viewing of NotLD, and I regret nothing. I’ll probably watch it several times more. It would go well with Shaun of the Dead and both Zombieland movies if you were looking to do a Zombie Romcom evening, but just keep in mind that this is the romcommiest of the four.