Liev Schreiber in The Last Days on Mars (Magnet Releasing)

Last Days on Mars has a crisis of identity, if not tone. The film opens on, well, Mars as a land cruiser rolls across the desert landscape. Inside are Liev Schreiber and Romola Garai. They share an easy camaraderie as they discuss their impending return to Earth. They are picking up anti-social, tight-assed Olivia Williams who would much rather stay on Mars. As they all return to base, we are introduced to the tough yet compassionate captain (Elias Koteas), the soft spoken psychologist (Johnny Harris), and a few others.

And if you notice, I don’t give the characters names, that’s because it doesn’t matter. These are types. They are expendable. And expendable they will become. For the first half hour, you think you are watching a somber movie about a group of scientists on Mars making a major discovery with all the triumph and trepidation one would expect goes with that. But what you end up getting is a zombie movie. Set on Mars. Mars zombies. And the film stays somber. And it wants you to take it very seriously.

You see—SPOILER ALERT (as if you need a spoiler after reading about Mars zombies)—the zombies are created by a virus that infects the crew, turning them into raving killing machines. Not completely random pell-mell killing machines. Occasionally they seem to have a purpose. Occasionally, they use power tools (no joke). And in the last half hour or so it turns out you can fight the virus for a time before going stark raving zombie, but you have to have a strong emotional connection to Liev Schreiber’s character for that to happen.

All of this could have been told with gleeful Robert Rodriguez-style abandon. It’s a silly idea. Nothing wrong with that. But director Ruairi Robinson insists on keeping the tone subdued. Lots of long meditative shots of the landscapes and emotional monologues externalizing the characters despair and fear. But the script isn’t good enough and the characters delineated enough to offer any depth.

So what you end up with is a desultory looking and feeling horror flick. No joy. No passion.  And for the viewer, no fun.