The Film Fiend: Dead Life

March 05, 2007 |

Stinky, but not quite rotten.

Do you remember your cousin Teddy? He was the one who soiled himself when the clown popped out of the cake at his three year-old sister's birthday party. Since then, he's gone to accomplish such monumental tasks as burning down his girlfriend's house and accidentally running over his grandmother's cat with the lawnmower. And despite the fact that the guy is a world-class screw-up and a full-on failure, you can't help but like the loser. There's something about the dude that just makes you smile and shake your head in befuddlement.

Well, that's kind of how I feel about William Victor Schotten's ambitious 2005 effort Dead Life, available on DVD from -- wait for it -- Brain Damage Films, the undisputed kings of wonky no-budget horror. I know the film is a mess from top to bottom, and I'm well aware of the fact that it looks and sounds like something put together by a group of horror fans who stumbled across a Super 8 camera in their grandfather's attic. These things are as clear as day to me. Yet for some inexplicable reason, I find myself ruling in its favor. Not before I needless pick it apart, of course. That wouldn't be any fun, would it?

Dead Life is just another low-budget take on the tried-and-true Night of the Living Dead formula created by genre master George A. Romero, which finds a group of mildly-interesting individuals inside a building battling wave after wave of flesh-eating zombies. One thing Romero's classic didn't have, obviously, was an extended shot of some poor bastard's penis being savagely gnawed off by a rotting undead bimbo with a tattoo on her ass. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Before I contingue, I should mention that I found this flick collecting layers of dust in the Foreign section of my my local Hollywood Video. Why was it in Foreign? I really don't know. Given the quality of their staff's personal hygiene and overall attitude towards their paying customers, the reason behind this incredible mistake could be just about anything. Oh, well. On to greener pastures.

The films starts off as your typical microbudget independent feature. That's right -- the dreaded DIALOGUE-DRIVEN COMEDY. The witty banter is occasionally rewarding, though it feels suspiciously like a writer's workshop exercise inspired by the work of Kevin Smith and Richard Linklater. It gets old quickly, leaving your mind to ponder the origins of that ever-growing stain just above the fireplace. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for something substantial nasty to occur, giving you incentive to keep watching. Again, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

Surprisingly, the acting isn't the root of the Dead Life's many problems. The material the actors are given is amateur at best, leaving them to spout brutally unfunny lines at the oddest of times. The tone also flip-flops erratically; one moment you're puzzling over a theoretically humorous scenario, the next you're presented with something overly melodramatic or needless gory. Did I just say "needlessly?" Surely I didn't use the words "needlessly" and "gory" in the same sentence, did I? Say it isn't so!

I'm afraid I did. Horror flicks that linger on their money shots for too long seem fake to me. It lets you know right away that the filmmakers care very little for the story they're trying to tell. They're what I like to call Gore Mongers, self-declared "hardcore directors" who rely heavily on special effects to get their crumby production into the marketplace. Effects, I might add, that really aren't that special in the first place. Don't get me wrong, dear readers, I'm all about the bloody gore. I just appreciate those who know how to use it effectively.

Rants and pointless posturing aside, Dead Life really isn't that bad. It's just a little slow, that's all. The script is weak, the effects are cheap, and the overall presentation leaves much to the be desired. That said, the film is often entertaining, boosted considerably by a talented group of local actors. I'm sure this isn't the kind of review William Victor Schotten and "INTRODUCING JEFF ROBEK" were hoping for, but it's probably not the worst they've received, either. The film shows promise, and is often entertaining because of it. Above all else, it teaches us a very valuable lesson.

Don't rape the female zombies.

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		Dead Life March 05, 2007 \| Stinky, but not quite rotten. Do you remember your cousin Teddy? He was the one who soiled himself when the clown popped out of the cake at his three year-old sister's birthday party. Since then, he's gone to accomplish such monumental tasks as burning down his girlfriend's house and accidentally running over his grandmother's cat with the lawnmower. And despite the fact that the guy is a world-class screw-up and a full-on failure, you can't help but like the loser. There's something about the dude that just makes you smile and shake your head in befuddlement. Well, that's kind of how I feel about William Victor Schotten's ambitious 2005 effort Dead Life, available on DVD from -- wait for it -- Brain Damage Films, the undisputed kings of wonky no-budget horror. I know the film is a mess from top to bottom, and I'm well aware of the fact that it looks and sounds like something put together by a group of horror fans who stumbled across a Super 8 camera in their grandfather's attic. These things are as clear as day to me. Yet for some inexplicable reason, I find myself ruling in its favor. Not before I needless pick it apart, of course. That wouldn't be any fun, would it? Dead Life is just another low-budget take on the tried-and-true Night of the Living Dead formula created by genre master George A. Romero, which finds a group of mildly-interesting individuals inside a building battling wave after wave of flesh-eating zombies. One thing Romero's classic didn't have, obviously, was an extended shot of some poor bastard's penis being savagely gnawed off by a rotting undead bimbo with a tattoo on her ass. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Before I contingue, I should mention that I found this flick collecting layers of dust in the Foreign section of my my local Hollywood Video. Why was it in Foreign? I really don't know. Given the quality of their staff's personal hygiene and overall attitude towards their paying customers, the reason behind this incredible mistake could be just about anything. Oh, well. On to greener pastures. The films starts off as your typical microbudget independent feature. That's right -- the dreaded DIALOGUE-DRIVEN COMEDY. The witty banter is occasionally rewarding, though it feels suspiciously like a writer's workshop exercise inspired by the work of Kevin Smith and Richard Linklater. It gets old quickly, leaving your mind to ponder the origins of that ever-growing stain just above the fireplace. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long for something substantial nasty to occur, giving you incentive to keep watching. Again, I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Surprisingly, the acting isn't the root of the Dead Life's many problems. The material the actors are given is amateur at best, leaving them to spout brutally unfunny lines at the oddest of times. The tone also flip-flops erratically; one moment you're puzzling over a theoretically humorous scenario, the next you're presented with something overly melodramatic or needless gory. Did I just say "needlessly?" Surely I didn't use the words "needlessly" and "gory" in the same sentence, did I? Say it isn't so! I'm afraid I did. Horror flicks that linger on their money shots for too long seem fake to me. It lets you know right away that the filmmakers care very little for the story they're trying to tell. They're what I like to call Gore Mongers, self-declared "hardcore directors" who rely heavily on special effects to get their crumby production into the marketplace. Effects, I might add, that really aren't that special in the first place. Don't get me wrong, dear readers, I'm all about the bloody gore. I just appreciate those who know how to use it effectively. Rants and pointless posturing aside, Dead Life really isn't that bad. It's just a little slow, that's all. The script is weak, the effects are cheap, and the overall presentation leaves much to the be desired. That said, the film is often entertaining, boosted considerably by a talented group of local actors. I'm sure this isn't the kind of review William Victor Schotten and "INTRODUCING JEFF ROBEK" were hoping for, but it's probably not the worst they've received, either. The film shows promise, and is often entertaining because of it. Above all else, it teaches us a very valuable lesson. Don't rape the female zombies. 0 Spasms: Post a Comment Newer Post Older Post Home	Search The Site Top Three Reviews Reign of Assassins City Under Siege Fuzz Bucket Recent Reviews The Spider Labyrinth Hercules Against Karate Deathstalker Hanger Catfish Information Station Fiendish Info Fiendish Tumblr Fiendish Twitter The Link Farm 24 Frames Per Second A Nutshell Review Beyond Hollywood Bloody Disgusting Bloody Good Horror Cinema Blend Cinema Fromage Cinema Suicide Cinematical Daily Grindhouse Dark Horizons Dread Central Exploitation Retrospect Far East Films Film Drunk Film Threat Generic Mugwump Hollywood Reporter Improper Comma Kung Fu Cinema Late Mag Latino Review Lost Highway Pajiba Premiere Home Video Quiet Earth Reel Whore Shock Till You Drop Slash Film Strange Spanner Twitch Film Varied Celluloid Variety We Watch Stuff Important Info