DEAD SNOW
Directed by Tommy Wirkola
Produced by Tomas Evjen & Terje Stromstad
Written by Stig Frode Henriksen & Wirkola
Released by IFC Films
Norwegian with English subtitles
Norway. 91 min. Not Rated
With Vegar Hoel, Stig Frode Henriksen, Charlotte Frogner, Lasse Valdal, Evy Kasseth Rosten, Jeppe Beck Laursen & Orjan Gamst
 

Dead Snow has what may be the ultimate two-word green light pitch: Nazi Zombies! If you were raised on B-grade horror during the videotape revolution, the hair on your arms is probably standing up with anticipation as you wonder how such an inspired premise has eluded celluloid (or at least videotape) until 2009.

Some quick research unearthed several other Nazi Zombie films which must have not been available at West Coast Video in the late 1980s because there was no possible way I wouldn’t have rented them repeatedly: 1977’s Shock Waves starring Peter Cushing, 1981’s Zombie Lake (Le lac des morts vivants) and Oasis of the Zombies (L'abîme des morts vivants).

As you would expect from the premise, filmmaker Tommy Wirkola’s goal was to make “a kickback to the good old slashers,” where “people would scream and jump in their seats, and minutes later, laugh out loud.” Dead Snow, which he directed and co-wrote, takes the proverbial stab at recreating that genre. The film’s action is set up efficiently and by the book. Two cars worth of horny good-looking young folk on vacation head to a remote area—CHECK. Cabin with a gruesome history none of the kids are aware of—CHECK. Scenes of the youth drinking and frolicking—CHECK. Creepy local who informs them of said history, warms them to leave now, and gets the action rolling—CHECK.

After the setup, however, the film’s flaws quickly emerge. Wirkola’s direction spends more time trying to be meta and self-aware than creating or sustaining any atmosphere of horror, creepiness, or isolation. The dialogue features discussion of and appreciation for horror films, but the director shows no inkling that he understands how to make one. There’s no suspense or tension, so when the imaginable occurs (and it’s telegraphed from a loooong way away), it lacks any impact.

This isn’t helped by characters that are flat and undifferentiated, even by horror film standards. Traditionally, a big part of the fun involves watching the immoral, mean, and stupid get theirs—the breast-baring slut, the bitchy prude, the selfish coward, etc. Martin, Roy, Hanna, Vegard, Liv, Erlend, Chris, and Sara are all medical students, all mostly attractive, all vaguely likeable Norwegians.

One can only assume that the Nazi undead were more scary and ill-behaved when alive. There’s nothing especially Nazi-ish about them beyond their costumes, which, considering the premise’s opportunities, is a tragedy of epic proportions. They’re simply Nazi Zombies. Is it too much to ask for a single goose-step, a heil, or maybe an unexpected counter-attack by Allied Zombies? To boot, the film never really sets its own rules. Are the NZs stupid one-of-us brain-eaters, like old-school Romero zombies; smart and organized undead warriors like Brendan Fraser mummies; or cursed humans a la Pirates of the Caribbean. The audience has no clue how to kill them (or if they can be killed), and no idea if they can turn others into zombies—nothing that allows the audience to participate in or anticipate the upcoming action (“Grab the axe, stupid!”).

Ultimately, Dead Snow feels more like a film student’s homage to horror than a horror film itself. Wirkola acknowledges his love of and debt to Sam Raimi’s Evil Dead II early and often, but his repeated referencing of that film in both action and editing make it pretty obvious that Wirkola has little of his own to add. The genius of Raimi’s films are that they use the conventions of the genre and twist them in new directions that are funny, creepy, and original. Dead Snow misses the details that make the genre work, so its attempts to subvert and parody fail.                   

All that said, even if Dead Snow doesn’t live up to its premise, there are some amusing moments. Near the end, it arises from the dead, along with the filmmakers’ creativity, as a logic defying kickass Human vs. Nazi Zombie splatterfest. While the storytelling is still weak, its low-budget enthusiasm in this last reel is infectious, and it’s clear that action, not horror, is what the film should have focused on all along. It sprays karo syrup with clear affection (and by the vat), relishes showing off pig intestines, plus the Nazis get to attack en masse. Once unbound, Dead Snow offers some genuine entertainment. Not enough to warrant $12, but probably enough for Netflix. Douglas Yellin
June 19, 2009