DANCE OF THE DEAD

DANCE OF THE DEAD

Just in time for Halloween, the darkest night of the year, comes a story of transformation and redemption, evil and compassion, translated through the imaginative lens and emotional prism of one of the fantasy genre's most respected talents. Responsible for dragging supernatural horror into the modern era, replacing moldy vaults with realistically depicted contemporary settings, Richard Matheson invested far-flung superstitions with psychological accuracy and a believability unparalleled in the field. Not content to simply scare or shock (both of which he accomplishes very well), Matheson has always felt the need to explore the deepest byways of the human condition in minimally told nightmares, uncovering nuances of hurtful truth in tales of possession, haunting and humanity struggling with monsters which often represent a flaw in the human condition. Most importantly, his characters -- average folks forced to confront not only the uncanny but themselves -- make us feel their tragic essence, thereby offering catharsis. As Matheson's Everymen face, triumph over, or (as is often the case) lose to the forces of darkness, readers experience the purging shame, anger, and sorrow that was emphasized in Greek tragedy. No where is Matheson's versatility better evidenced than in this emotionally intense fable of forced resurrection and societal decline. Adapted to from Matheson's short story by Richard 'Christian' Matheson (his son), and directed by Tobe Hooper, one the genre's premiere fear specialists, Dance of the Dead is a scathing examination of our amoral consumer culture and the depths to which people will descend to make use of other's misfortune.

In a bleak, foreseeable future, nuclear war has obliterated much of the world into a chaotic debris of lawless waste, lethargy, and terror. A land of sacrifices, where the strong feed off the meek. A world where choices must be made, and some must die so that others may live. Amongst such conditions there still exist a few people whose souls are untarnished. Peggy, a teen-ager, is such a girl, thriving like a rare flower in the soil of debauchery surrounding her. When she accompanies the local 'bad boy' one night to a club, naively thinking she might be in love with him, she is whisked away to the 'Danger Room,' where the principle entertainment is the gyrating dance numbers performed by the living dead, zombies resurrected through a sinister technology for the amusement of the unmoral deviants whose lives of meaninglessness seeks deeper levels of exploitation for enjoyment. A mirror of our own increasingly jaded culture, where folks get their kicks watching 'reality' television shows specializing in sleaze, this club of 'dead' entertainers is owned by Robert Englund, the MC whose performance is easily the best work he's turned out since cackling beneath his 'Freddy' Fedora. When circumstances prompt Peggy to seek out the truth of her sister's death, and her own mother's part in it, horrible revelations are but a moldering hip-swing away . . .

An uneasy alliance between humor and horror, Dance of the Dead reveals an undeniable streak of humanity amidst the bleak, stark horror of an admittedly depressing surface story. The few characters who retain something of compassion and mercy, a sense of right and wrong in a post-apocalyptic society, represent the light of mercy in the face of death . . . sort of. Character's last minute failure to triumph over the need for revenge and 'justice' satisfies something of the animal in us even as it marks our inability to transcend nihilism. The resulting psychological terror, both as primal experience and as a scathing attack against culture, makes it as horrifying as it is darkly humorous. Because these characters are people we get to know, complete with irritating habits, intimate histories, and motivations, we care when they're jeopardized. Hooper's inspired direction of Matheson's story provides nothing less than catharsis, emphasizing emotional purging in its bleak plots. A morbid masterpiece of calculated suspense, inventively filmed, Hooper's disturbingly naturalistic technique treats the human body as meat, providing a disturbing juxtaposition between loftier ideals of conscience and savagery. Securing both his (and Matheson's) importance in genre history with the psychological realism and fetishistic brutality of this episode, Hooper's film derives the majority of its power from suggestion and suspense rather than gore (while there is no lack of this either!). Hooper's darkly comedic interpretation of a shocking cultural era/entertainment works on both a surface and sub contextual level, attacking the subconscious as effectively with its archetypal fear of physical pain and dismemberment as its surface imagery attacks the mind's eye with 'jump!' scares and the more profound terror inspired by the world of normal values turned upside down -- or simply revealed for the charnel house mess that it is. Within the thrilling plot of a girl attempting to discover the truth about her world, her origins, and herself, this modern vision of the 'sins of the fathers' (or in this case, 'the Mother') being visited upon the children is also a parable of the Outsider archetype's struggle against the many (and in this instance reminds us of Matheson's other apocalyptic piece, I Am Legend). While the greatest pleasure the movie offers is a unique scientific suggestion of an illness shadowed by supernatural folklore and realistic, emotionally engaging characters, of equal importance is Matheson's ability to suggest how very easily the norm may become the monstrous.

The visual presentation here is of typically excellent standard, continuing the Bay's penchant for turning out maximum quality releases. The widescreen, anamorphic enhanced (1.77:1) picture is clear with bright, vivid colors, suffering no noticeable grain or blurred imagery. Audio in Dolby Digital 5.1 and Dolby Surround 2.0 is satisfactory, both offering clear and adequate distribution of sound effects, music, and dialogue. Extras are comprehensive, including highly entertaining audio commentary tracks with macabre masters Tobe Hooper and Richard Christian Matheson, both of which are well spoken and personable, discussing their opinions on the state of the genre and their individual approaches to the material herein with intelligence and affection. This same mix of learning and 'fan-boy' enthusiasm is carried over to "Primal Screams: An Interview with Tobe Hooper," wherein the titan of terror discuses the unique challenges and pleasures of turning Matheson's vision into celluloid, and, most appreciated, "The Written Word: An Interview with Richard Matheson," where the literary legend expounds on his craft. "On Set Interviews" include chats with Jessica Lowndes, Jonathon Tucker, and Robert Englund, each of which captures the unique personality of the actors while focusing on how they prepared/what they thought of the production and its crew. These supplements occasionally cover the same ground, as do both audio tracks, but to such a minor degree that it is forgivable. Trailers, Still Galleries, a Storyboard Gallery, and DVD-ROM screenplays/screen savers round out this comprehensive package of a socially scathing story.

Review by William P. Simmons


 
Released by Anchor Bay
Region 1 - NTSC
Not Rated
Extras :
see main review
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