Pontypool - movie review

an eerie, disturbing horror-drama that leaves your skin crawling long after you leave the theatre. it's a zombie flick sans zombies - at least for about the first two-thirds of the movie. and the premise itself - that the infectious virus is spread through certain words of the English language - is absurd to the point of ridiculousness. and yet, after the credits rolled and we walked the empty streets to the car, i found myself resisting the urge to look over my shoulder...
these days, Hollywood churns out flashy ADD blockbusters like they're going out of style - which they should be. today's audience demands immediate gratification, and the unfortunate by-product is characters that lack depth, unnecessary CGI, and plotlines so formulaic you could plug them into a Pythagorean Theorem (for an example of all three, see Transformers). don't get me wrong, i'm not into the super-artsy, hybrid-driving, eco-friendly, film student stuff. sure, i've watched my share of indie movies and legitimate documentaries, but i'm as excited for the Wolverine movie as any 20-year-old male undergrad.

that being said, Pontypool was a refreshing new take on the pop culture horror flick. the cast, minimal in itself, spent the entire movie on one set - a ho-hum church basement slash talk radio station. and leading the way through this audio creepfest was the gravel-voiced radio host, Grant Mazzy (played by Stephen McHattie). as frantic callers inform Mazzy and his crew of two about the growing chaos outside, the audience listens helplessly as their imaginations conjure mental images to match the fear-stricken stories. blood-soaked teenagers speaking in infant voices, neighbours babbling senseless gibberish, mobs of the infected swarming people in their cars. but the most effective communication in this writer's view was the use of an audiograph to accentuate the play-by-play of the station's reporter on the street, Ken Loney (played by Rick Roberts ). hunkered down, reporting as much as he can before his inevitable demise, Loney describes a small Ontario town descending into animalistic madness. Mazzy and his crew are torn between the need for more information and the fear for their friend's life and safety. Mazzy holds a cell phone to the radio mic, and Loney's panicked voice - barely held in check - is shown as a series of spiky blue lines on a black computer screen. the sound is deep-seated emotion but the visual is raw, detached. an inhuman but honest representation of terror and panic. the audience is forced to listen to the words of this man which underscores the deadliness of the virus itself - those who are infected are those who chose to listen.

Pontypool disturbed its audience without gory scenes or cheap surprises, and maintained a deep-set feeling of unease throughout. minimal set and a tiny cast, incredible scripting and unmatched ambience. even when the movie's dark humour provided some genuine laughs, that off-putting feeling of uncertainty would quickly flow back in...and remain until, well - i'll let you know when it's gone.