Dead Shack
Overall Recommendation
Recommendation?
This great little movie has everything a big zombie movie should have, but just in smaller, measured doses that are perfectly calibrated and woven together. I’m not going as far as to say Colin exactly had an arc of character development, but they definitely pushed for one for both him and Jason. Yet it wasn’t included as filler (drone what? cough-cough) except for the strange “Stand by Me” moment there towards the end. This is truly half comedy, if not more so. The Dad was great, the story was solid, the dialogue funny and fast paced… let’s look at this from the perspective of a T-graph, because that’s about my capacity for scientific comparison. The only thing I have in the negative category was that the armor lady wore a welding helmet as part of her battle-gear, and the reality is she most probably wouldn’t have been able to see shit. I guess thus hence the shotgun? But I loved that part- this isn’t some gonzo Rob Zombie spectacle, this isn’t Kubrick creating and recreating new worlds… this is a story about a dysfunctional yet loving family going on vacation in the wrong sort of location and then trying to overcome horrific obstacles while either wildly intoxicated, panic-gorging, or fear-peeing. And I like that there’s a reality to it, too… everything is horrible until you get your own hands on a shotgun, and now you’ve got a say in how things are gonna turn out. I really respect this movie for perhaps presenting the best “someone keeping zombies as family” version of the genre that I can remember. This is concise clockwork with jokes and punchlines built in that will keep the smile grinning, but also show you some good, wet red messy and frighteningly on-point zombie lurching. Consider this a solid recommendation, especially if you want to bring someone closer to into the fold… This has everything a movie without zombies needs to be enjoyable, and then it adds zombies and great one, two, and three liners. At one point I found myself thinking “I’m pretty sure this is very close to what the zombies version of Goonies would have been like.”
Plot Autopsy
Plot Autopsy
- A kid is walking in the rain. I mean, it starts with a shotgun wounding and zombie killing of a desperate man, but then the movie starts, and there’s some drone footage.
- The dad is taking his kids and girlfriend out to a cabin, but it’s a cheap cabin, and he’s pretty much a drunken party-schlub.
- The three teens wander down a small path onto trespassing territory and then sneak around spying and see a zombie and some death. They freak.
- Intoxicated father leads a fact-finding mission to break into the zombie house and consume the rest of the drugged wine.
- It’s about time for one of the party to die. The dad’s girlfriend gets it. The movie kinda set her up.
- And then the funny happens and hits overdrive and you realize why they made this movie and how awesome it is.
- And then the dad dies. You might not want to read that part if you’re concerned about spoilers.
- And then they drop the ball on the perfect ending in the name of crappy feels.
Zombie Description
Zombie Description
This is one of the coolest parts of the movie, but they don’t give a fuck what you think you know or want to know about the zombies. They don’t show you much at any given moment, it’s more glimpses and shadows until they’re on you and there’s red everywhere. They have some sort of memory, they appear to not want to eat the armor lady, but they don’t really attempt to communicate at all. Or watch where they’re walking. You get bit, you gonna die, and then you gonna come back as one, but why? By not giving a shit, they’re freeing up so much bandwidth to focus on the story that they want to tell. These zombies are fucking well done. Don’t ask anything else.
Where the money went
Where the money went
Well, were I being snippy, I’d make some crack about the drone footage, but there really wasn’t much, and the choices in music generally made up for any stumbling of momentum. The movie was tight in all aspects- the visuals were spot on, the gore was great, the acting- although I want to beat Colin and Jason- was correct… and the banter between them all was genuine and funny. Not just genuinely funny. It felt like fun was had, and it comes through. The armor-lady’s… armor. was well done. Aside from the helmet. Of course.
Best Weapon
Best Weapon
I think after you stab someone in the side of the neck with a ceramic unicorn, you’re pretty much qualified to attack anyone with any item. It also was great to see shotguns getting their due. Not everything has to hose out a stream of hot lead- sometimes a hole in something the size of a nickel straight through is all you have to “aim” for.
Can I get a hand?
Can I get a hand?
Not much here. Not that sort of movie. There was no care to why- it was just a fact that the woman kept zombies and drugged people to feed them. Nobody was fucking around with burials or resurrections, this was just zombies trying to eat you and a lady with a shotgun making it even more difficult for you to survive.
That was new!
That was new!
As I’ve said, this is the best of a sub-genre that I think I’ve seen, and part of what made it so good was it’s adherence to keeping the story small, intelligent, manageable, and well executed. I wish they had ended it with the pickup fading into the fog, I actually found all the bonding moments to be waste.
Review Notes
Review Notes
Oh shit. I can’t stop sneezing. I like goats. I’ve never really met one though. I’ve been chased by geese though. Although it may have been a swan. Had to run from a turkey once, too. That was embarrassing.
Screaming and opening to a house with some squalor.
Some guy is trying to get into a car.
A person in home-built armor- including a welding helmet- taunts him with the keys.
Is he a zombie? He’s sick or something.
Either a zombie or shit-faced wasted.
Maybe he’s drugged or something?
The armored figure has… a brute on a leash, as well as a… shotgun.
Oh. Shit. The brute is a zombie and the zombie is in the car and eating.
The armored person is a woman.
Roll title.
Cookie cutter houses.
Arguing. I know that world. It sucks.
Some kid walking in the drizzle. Some’s inbound to pick him up.
All this drone footage is supposed to mean something, but I’m not sure what.
Now we’re in trailer parks.
NICE!! VAN!!
Jason. That’s his name.
Miss Lisa.
Slade.
Mrs. Summer.
“We’re WAY poorer than you!”
VAN LIFE!!
“Oh come on honey. The Hilltop diner I’m sure is good enough for your distinguished palate.”
“Nobody likes a morning drunk Lisa.”
“Nobody likes a smart-ass, Summer.”
So there’s a dynamic here at play somehow.
I love the dad. “Oh yeah, I really fucked that up. I blew it.” Total accountability, and it seems like he’s enjoyed learning his lessons.
(16 year old) “Can I get some coffee?”
(Dad) “Don’t listen to him. He’s making me sound like an irresponsible parent. We’ll just get four beers.”
I would NOT order “Eggs and shit” at a local diner that I’ve never been to before and where my dad has already pissed off the waitress. Twice. Since we all walked in.
The Power Five. Interesting.
“Ketchup is not food, Ronald Regan.” Ok. I fucking LOVE this. First, it’s historical. Check this shit out. Like, our president tried to skirt nutritional guidelines for public school lunch by arguing that ketchup was a food. Like, it was the equivalent of eating an orange or a serving of green beans. Now here’s where it gets personal. I fucking adore ketchup. I used to live across the street from a Friendly’s restaurant and I’d get destroyed high with my 4 footer and then go order two separate grilled cheese plates. Between the two sammiches and double fries, I would easily kick an entire bottle of ketchup. Sometimes I’d go through a sloppy two. My mouth is watering and my scalp is puckering with little beads of cold sweat writing this, I want a grilled cheese sammich with catsup so bad.
Colin is a fucking twat. I would break his face.
And then we meet some douches.
Browskies.
Colin is such a fucking twat.
(Dad) “We’re talking about penises!”
Yup. Drone footage.
My fucking phone keeps falling off of stuff. It’s because our house is so old and sideways.
“Touching nature…”
“This place looks like a murder cabin.”
Jason is kinda pathetic.
Jason is pathetic.
Summer is brutal. “You like, 14 or something? Adorable but weird.”
Lisa has one hell of a drinking problem.
“My little fortune cookie…” I’m gonna steal that one.
More drone.
I dig the ambient… bloop bloop bloop bloop bloop music.
Jason is pathetic.
Jason is stupid and pathetic.
“Well, you walk weird. And you hair is too messy. And you can be mean sometimes.”
Jason is pathetic.
Drone stuff.
I should start keeping track of the ratio of drone filler to actual movie here. I wonder how thin the ratio really is?
Oh.. Just found a femur bone half buried. I don’t think they know what they’ve found.
LARP?? HAAA!! No wonder Colin is so immature!
“She’d make a great demon-cow.”
Oh, yuck! Stop hitting each other with fetid bones!
“Hey! Dungeons and Dildos! Let’s keep moving!” AD&D I still love you.
A jawbone in the weeds.
Big old No Trespassing sign. It’s the house from the beginning.
I like Colin calling Shotgun before he sits in the seat that the man got shot with a shotgun in during the earlier scene.
These kids are kinda trespassing assholes.
Colin is playing in the trash?
The burn barrel has all sorts of things in it.
Oh, shit! The two losers from the diner. And the blonde from earlier. I get it. I’m putting the math together.
There’s an 88 painted on the mailbox. That kinda pisses me off. It’s one of those things were if intentional, we should have a talk. If not… then… why??
“What’s with all the unicorns and stuff? I know we don’t look it, but we’re really artists in the bedroom.”
Oh, shit… drugged wine. That’s a good way to get fucked up fast.
This is painful to watch.
Two losers trying to strip.
And one is down for the count.
The other is… fading… and out.
Calling a zombie to breakfast.
Colin is such a fucking idiot. “I thought you were going to throw a rock too!”
Damn, this woman is cold.
“How was I supposed to know she’s a bro-drugging psycho?”
Whoah. Colin, that was a very low blow and you’re a dick.
Out comes the suit of armor.
Out comes the shotgun.
That’s one hell of a door.
Meanwhile, dad and Lisa playing strip go-fish.
“Playing go-fish foreplay!” “You mean that’s a thing?”
“Are you drunk already?” “If I say yes, will you be mad?” “Yes.” “Then… no.”
Why is Colin panic binging cold hot-dogs?
I like Lisa.
Not sure I like the dad. He peed on his beer cans.
And that statement about axes is one for the classics.
“With any luck, he’s going to get bored and fall asleep, and then we can drag his drunk ass home.” “No you won’t!”
See, that’s the sort of dad I’d be.
“To be fair, my dad does his best fighting when he’s drunk.”
I’m not sure I understand the Power-5 thing.
“Hey cannibals!!”
Fucking LOVE the dad!!
“You know what Jason? I’m REALLY drunk. And kinda high! So being quiet… is… really hard for me. M’kay? Good talk! Let’s go!” (Falls over trash can)
Fucking LOVE the dad!!
“We just broke into someone’s house. How messed up is that?”
Colin is a fucking dick. And he’s gonna get what he deserves.
Oh shit. The armor lady is here for Lisa.
Colin… won’t stop peeing. On the floor.
And again. And again. And again.
Lisa is being et.
“Jason my friend, you are a tactical genius. That’s why I’d never want to play chess with you. Also because chess is fucking boring.” I mean… I got hyper-obsessed with chess over about a week. And then I decided not to be, since I was yelling at the computer a lot. I’m pretty sure it was other people in other places, but- internet chess. It’ll drive you mad.
I love the dad!!
I FUCKING LOVE THE DAD.
I’m dying!! “Dad, come over here right now!” “No. It’s too far.”
That’s a door.
Oh… fuck. The dad drank the rest of the drugged wine.
AFTER they opened the zombie door.
“He’s forty and all he does is watch cartoons and eat. It’s not his fault he’s heavy.” I mean… I disagree.
Jason just pulled a digger!
Found a trap door!
It sounds like it smells really bad down there.
OH!! HA!!
JASON JUST…
Oh… oh… oh… oh… Yeah… Jason, that’s exactly what I said.
That… that… Yeah. Jason. What you said.
Holy shit. That was fucked.
Uh… Not going to explain.
Here comes armor woman with a zombie on a leash.
Using him as a hound.
Jason, you’re pathetic.
Lisa-Zombie. Looks like someone chained her up to a chair?
Lotta red vomiting.
Jason, you’re an idiot.
Jason stabbed Lisa with a steak knife!
And a fire poker. HARD.
Very insane head shot.
Colin, you gotta stop peeing yourself.
Turns out Jason comes from affluence. And now he’s dumping his purse. Great timing.
Colin, I’m the same way about the nervous talking.
Colin, you’re kinda a dick if you did this.
This moment… doesn’t really fit here. No matter how deep it was. I’m with Summer. “Cute.”
This sounds like a Monty Python motivational speech.
“Blow some bros.”
“You’re going to blow some bros, Colin?”
“Blow… up some bros. You know what I mean.”
The shed comes ready made with everything needed for armor and weapon making and there’s ready made more up-tempo ambient-ish music and the whole thing feels a bit contrived. All the duct tape is cool, but…
Ok, yeah. More drone filler.
Colin, I agree with your logic, even though you’re whining a lot.
Stop bringing up the fact that you pissed your pants.
Jason, you’re such a moron.
She’s got a shotgun. I’d agree they’re out of their league.
Colin is a panic eater. That’s awesome.
These zombies are good.
Oh. SHIT.
Wow. That was one hell of a melee.
FUCK UNICORNS! (heh.)
Oh, the big door is getting kicked open.
Children. Child zombies.
Dad is a drunk.
Sounds of zombie kids getting killed in the next room.
Dad is having a hard time with reality.
“Look dad, you can increase your chances of meeting someone new if we get out of here alive.”
MORE BASHING!
Yup. That’s what happened.
The dad is enthusiastically incompetent.
UNICORN TO THE NECK!!
Cabinet go squish!
More duct tape!
Yup! Duct tape!
Whoops- dad just got shot. That was bad.
Shotgun would be going through that bed.
Jason with the running over. I mean, hitting and hurting really badly, but with a car.
Colin with the squish!
Is Colin gonna pee himself again?
Interesting effect of red draining into the snow…
Ambient music…
I predict more drone…
Nope. I’d call that a great ending.
But still we’re going…
Jason gets a phone call? That… ending sucks compared to the truck fade-out.
————End Transmission——————–
Introduction
Introduction
Things are bad. “It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times.” to rephrase a famous beginning into what really feels like an end. The important thing is that we’re going into therapy; the intake paperwork is printed, half filled out, and waiting on the table.
The less important, but more interesting part is that I have recently attempted to help my wife work through her rage issues. My plan was that the next time she erupted into a rage and was screaming and slamming doors and calling names and encouraging self-destruction, I would kneel before her, close my eyes, and then she could punch me in the face.
More than anything, I think I wanted to see her reaction when she broke her hand. Additionally, as I’ve stated, I have a bucket list item of getting my nose broken, and I figured this way I might be able to cross that off without actually committing to the other bucket list item of fighting until it occurs organically.
The way I see it, she’s being a loudmouth bully by screaming and crashing things around. If she’s honestly that angry at me for some error I made, then I’ll take the punch in order for her to feel the validation and acceptance from me. If I’m wrong, I’ll be accountable.
However, if she’s just losing her shit because I tried to talk to her about feeling an insecurity and she judo’d her perception of the statement into my condemnation of her having friends, or wanting her to cancel an upcoming trip- in other words, the things she was screaming at me about; if she really just has all this anger pent up inside of her, chewing her up, causing her to act irrational as a meth’d out 20 month old running on no sleep in three days, and if she’s consumed with blinding rage, and it’s not just performative act that she desperately wants me to dance with her through familiar destructive, toxic steps- simply for the reassurance that my anger needs her as much as hers needs me…
If I don’t want to waste weeks with screaming and slammed doors and sleeping in the van out in the hills- then she can step up and do HER part, which is to actually shift that anger into next gear, throw a fucking punch, get it out of her system, and calm the fuck down enough to reflect on how angry a person she has become. Busted hands can lead to introspection.
It feels like she wants to get into a drag race where we agree never to leave 2nd gear and to run until both our engines explode and there’s no set distance or time limit that either of us are attempting to achieve to actually win, it’s just the mutual melt-down that she wants. I need her to lean into her rage, ball up her fist, and fucking DO something about it.
I believe that her emotions for me at this point are so toxic that were I to hold a pistol to my head, she would not attempt to intervene and save me. Instead, I fear she would watch to see what happens, since the risk of losing me has already been computed to be less impactful than the possibility of gaining something she will be able to hold over my head forever if I fail.
I’m not looking to call the police or anything stupid or crafty or any interpretation of this other than the literal “I’d rather deal with a single punch to the face than hours of rage-acholic scream-dumping.” I’d already texted all of this to my best friend before attempting it in person.
I want us to get better, not her to go to jail for something I goaded her into. When she got screaming and evil, I was going to push her to strike, to taunt her into doing so. I’d need to. She’s never crossed that boundary before- she and her partners have always been mutually invested in a lifestyle of screaming at their partners. That why my plan of extreme action was needed. She’s content to remain in this familiar territory of mutually assured destruction.
Before I go into how this plan actually worked out in real life, I’ll share that I already have suggested that she consider maybe stepping out of management, which has appeared to make her more miserable than happy for the past forever, and that went poorly, and I’ve also gotten myself a job as an analyst in logistics for a seed company.
The nice thing is it gets me out of the house so I’m not on her nerves, she’ll have time to go do the social life she wants, and with me bringing in about half of what she makes, although it’s not career money, it’s like I’m meeting her 1:2 for paycheck, and that should be enough for her to loose the derision felt with me living off her for the past few years.
Yeah. This little sociopath got a job. Cool. I’ll be able to contribute to the building of the house, I’ll be able to open credit and finance things for the house, I’ll be able to afford an apartment when she finally kicks me out of the house. She was screaming about it in the last breakdown.
She did literally scream that she was kicking me out and that I should go pick a fight with someone or punch out some windows. Yes- this was the screaming that segued into my putting my “kneel and get punched” plan into action. How did it go? I have a busted fat knuckle and a minor goose-egg on the side of my head where I was shoved backwards into the corner of an open door. I also got inconsequential shit thrown at me.
I think one thing out of 5 or 6 hit me. I had my eyes closed, so I can’t really speak to her throwing form, but my mental image was that of a child’s tantrum level open-palm, elbow hinge sissy-catapult. I mean, she was blinded by rage and just dealing her own inability to throw the punch she wanted to; hence the shove, but she was afraid too- and not of losing me or anything, but because I was going in a much realer direction than she was comfortable.
This of course is my perception of things, but I think that she feels comfortable in the thematic screaming and drama, but the idea of knuckling up and letting fly is too… real for her. This is something I’m supposed to be doing with her- all the negativity and crazy- so when I’m calm and calling her out for throwing a child’s temper tantrum yet being too afraid to throw a blow… well, that puts her in unfamiliar territory.
How did I even arrange at such an attempt at helping her blow off steam? I was starting my new job on Wednesday morning. I hadn’t been smoking pot- since my last review, actually- because I knew I had a drug test coming up. So, it’s Tuesday and I try to talk about an insecurity regarding where our marriage is right now and the fact that she’s ordering leather pants for her girl’s trip to Vegas, she starts screaming… wait… I think I covered that part.
Oh, and there was a part where I ate mushrooms… Before we went for a kinda nice hike. But then when we got home, and I was still rolling a bit, I mentioned how the new pants plus their intended events made me feel kinda crappy, I was lying in bed, thinking, exploring the terminally nihilistic feelings I had. I wanted to put a gun in my mouth and teach her the meaning of regret. Then I realized I didn’t need to die; I was just trapped because work started the next day so I couldn’t escape in the van.
So I relaxed and felt that I’d be content if instead… I wanted to carve a red slash across my pectorals (half man boobs at this point, if we’re being honest) like in Predator. I thought about this, and where the box cutter(s) were, and then I considered how fucking long a good cut like that takes to heal, which is keeping me out of work worse than sleeping in a van, plus- will totally fuck up a bunch of my tattoos.
So no, nothing slashy. I felt around a bit and realized that bashy would work just as good as slashy. Bashy didn’t even need to be me hitting anyone, rather- I wanted to pick a fight against someone I was guaranteed to lose to, but someone who I could count on to put in the work to teach the lesson before putting in the work to end the fight.
I didn’t want to bully anyone- I wanted to be desperately swinging futilely against someone who wouldn’t be there when my fist got there, but would have someone cracking my head sideways, or rocking it back, or bending me on some other strange axis over foot or fist, before dancing away and letting me regroup, re-fist, and try attacking again.
I realized I wanted to feel the futility of taking the hits. And then it came to me… she’s out of her fucking mind with rage. Why wouldn’t her being able to get a punch in be validating and healing for her? The honest truth is with the martial arts I do, I can explain away any injury, she’s responsible for my dental care, and like I said- I want to get my nose broken before I die. But yeah, that didn’t work.
Now we’re going into couples counselling, and I’ve got intake papers to fill out, and I’m hesitant because when they ask what I hope to accomplish, all I have to say is “I want my wife to stop screaming at me. I want my wife to stop resorting to toxic drama as her perceived-criticism go-to. I want my wife to hear the words I say and not re-assemble them in her mind into something I’ve said that can offend her. Most importantly, I want my wife- in the middle of the conflict- to be focused on resolving it positively instead of simply doing the most damage that she’s able to do in the time allotted.”
I’m going to share these goals and most probably cross the nose-job off the bucket list. Did I mention that this new job allows me to get an apartment? I’ve considered moving about 45 minutes away- to near where my job is- for somewhere 3-6 months- to give her the opportunity to revisit living without my presence as a constant.
I mean, that’s the great part about the job. She has been accusing me of trying to stop her from having any friends or engaging in anything that didn’t revolve around worshipping me… yeah… I had this screamed at me by my wife. And then she gets hurt when I change her contact name in my phone to “Don’t Bother Your Wife”.
But this new job seems to be a comfortable process driven 2 hours of work a day in reality kinda office number logistics job. It’s been hard to work on learning how to do anything when I’m going into my second week and I still don’t even have a computer. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be doing anything. And the Director of HR took me out to lunch, and he told me something like “Your boss knows more about the seed blending process than anyone else in the company. He also is known to have the worst attitude in the entire building. I want you to learn everything he knows without absorbing any of his shit-talking and bitching about other departments and employees.” I was like… “Uh…” and then this is where mentioned conversationally that I was considering ordering the aforementioned cheeseburger.
The best part about it, my new boss talks so passively and mumbles so badly that I can’t hear or understand a damn thing he’s saying, let alone actually take in any of his negativity. I think I’m going to like working there. It seems like it’s going to be a pretty mellow spot. I have my hopes up. I’m going to do the best I can. I might end up doing the best I can while living out of a van. “I live in a van in the parking lot by the railroad tracks!” That’s what I got coming for me. I’m not looking forward to it.
If she and I are done, I literally can’t think of anything exciting other than squirrel suiting. If I can’t live a good life with my wife, I want to fly like Icarus until I choose to die.
Dead Shack “While staying at a run-down cabin in the woods, three children must save their parents from the neighbor who intends to feed them to her undead family.” So… This seems fucking perfect for the moment. There’s one old movie with zombie children that I *really* want to watch, but since I can’t remember the name of it… I wonder how old these children are. I’m assuming teenagers. I’m also assuming that this isn’t a zombie-mayhem type movie, but rather a “no one believes you when you’re trying to save them” kinda vibe with the zombies as just sort of a threat of existence as opposed to something you’re physically fleeing from through a cold, rainy, lightning filled night.