AS WE KNOW IT

Stars: Taylor Blackwell, Mike Castle, Oliver Cooper, Danny Mondello, Chris Parnell and Pam Grier.
Writers: Brandon DePaolo, Christopher Francis, Josh Monkarsh.
Director: Josh Monkarsh

Rating: ★ ★ ★

The well-manicured rock gardens of L.A.’s suburban hills are flowing red thanks to Agnes oat milk, a dairy substitute that’s turning Los Angelinos into ravenous zombies in Josh Monkarsh’s As We Know It. This giggly throwback to the teen buddy comedies of the late 90s subs in Mike Castle, as struggling novelist James, and Oliver Cooper, the film’s MVP as oafish stoner Bruce, for ‘Jason Biggs and Seann William Scott’ types; mismatched mates facing off against the undead uprising in a low-key but winningly likable rom-zom-com.

Monkarsh and his co-writing posse of Brandon DePaolo and Christopher Francis don’t leave the connection to chance, setting their story in the late 1990s and riffing on such decade-specific artefacts as Kevin Costner’s Waterworld, brick-like portable home phones, pre-smart TV TVs and those bastions of smallscreen journalism, Geraldo Rivera and Phil Donahue. Also of the period is the Pixie Dream Girl archetype, embodied here by Taylor Blackwell’s doe-eyed and endearingly sassy Emily.

James is in a deep funk, having recently split with Emily; so distracted is he from real life, not only has his writing stalled but he has also failed to cotton-on that his hometown is in the grip of an extinction event. It takes Bruce banging on his front door to bring him into the present; they make to hightail it out of town, but a syphoned gas tank means they have to bunker down in James’ pad (beautifully set decorated by Asiah Thomas-Mandlman and production designed by Lorus Allen).

The ‘rom’ revs up when Emily drops by to say a final goodbye before driving to Seattle with her girlfriends. When the girls meet an ugly demise, Emily is left to survive alongside her ex and his bestie, with whom she also shares an awkward past. In the mix are a food delivery guy on the turn (Danny Mondello), a sexy neighbour (the iconic Pam Grier, clearly having some fun) and SNL alumni Chris Parnell cameoing as an LA affiliate newshound.  

The bittersweet conclusion gels ideally with that particularly late-90s sense of foreboding that the impending new millennium held. Between the lad’s comic chemistry and the occasional teeth-on-flesh ickiness, Monkarsh focuses on the missed opportunity for a soulmate pairing that James and Emily let slip. True love doesn’t quite conquer all in As We Know It, but it is at the centre of this warmly funny spin on the old “better to have loved and lost, than never…” refrain. 

RESIDENT EVIL

Stars: Ella Balinski, Lance Reddick, Tamara Smart, Sienna Agudong, Adeline Rudolph and Paola Núñez.
Writers: Andrew Dabb, Garett Pereda, Shane Tortolani, Jeff Howard, Kerry Williamson and Lindsey Villarreal.
Director: Bronwen Hughes, Rachel Goldburg, Batan Silva and Rob Seidenglanz.

8 episodes to stream on Netflix from July 14, 2022

Rating: ★ ★ ★ ½

The RESIDENT EVIL franchise is proving harder to kill-off than one of its own cannibalistic T-virus infected bad-guys (or girls, or dogs, or whatever). Since CAPCOM launched the first Playstation video game version in 1996, it has been a blockbuster - since its inception, no less than 31 versions have been released on gaming platforms, making it the most successful horror gaming series of all time. The seven live-action films, six of which starred Milla Jovovich, have grossed over a billion dollars, making it the most successful film series based on a videogame ever. This is before you add in graphic novels, animated films and TV shows, merchandise and, I shit you not, live theatre productions, of which there have been three in Japan since 2000.

Such hot-property legacy IP means that Netflix and their safe-bet programming strategy couldn’t be far behind. They dipped their toes in the Resident Evil waters with last years’ CGI-series Infinite Darkness and have now gone all in with this new 8-episode arc, boldly calling itself simply ‘Resident Evil’, suggesting this is the new and defining narrative for the brand. With zombies or zombie-adjacent types having bought in big bucks for streamers in recent years, it’s seems only fair that the starting point for the re-animation of the undead as legit pop-culture iconography shouldn’t enjoy the spoils - without Resident Evil, there’d be no Walking Dead or 28 Days Later or World War Z, so good luck to all involved.

But does this fresh spin on the mythology of New Raccoon City and the spread of the T-virus earn its own stripes, under the showrunning of Supernatural alumni Andrew Dabb? He takes the potentially risky step of splitting his story into two distinct timelines - the first, a future-set dystopian vision where 6 billion infected roam the Earth and freehold outposts provide shelter for the uninfected (a bit like in Mad Max 2). British actress Ella Balinski plays Jade Wesker, a lone figure monitoring the herd actions of the infected, until she is knocked unconscious by a monster caterpillar (yeah, in this Resident Evil, there are monster caterpillars!) and becomes collateral for the nomads to barter with the evil Umbrella Corporation.

Storyline #2 is not quite so ambitious, or compelling; it is 2022, and teen Jade (now played by Tamara Smart) and her sister Billie (Sienna Agudong) have relocated to the oh-so-white suburbia that is the pre-T-virus outbreak New Raccoon City. Their emotionally-absent father is Umbrella bigwig Albert Wesker (a typically compelling Lance Reddick), who is struggling to raise the two girls, who struggle with their own PTSD moments from the life they’ve left behind. An animal rescue attempt, during which Jade and Billie gain (surprisingly easy) access to the Umbrella labs, starts to align the two story strands.

The intercutting of the present and future plotting is handled skilfully, even if the high stakes of 2036 Jade’s undead-infested existence and the teen beats of 2022 Jade’s high-school/homelife world seem initially mismatched. Corporate horrors and homeroom villainy find a surprisingly satisfying balance. Those in for the traditional Resident Evil thrills will be happy to know zombie dogs turn up in Episode 1, and that the infected are shriekers, not shufflers. Balinski, who was so good in the recent Charlie’s Angels reboot it was like she was in a different film entirely, is great as a hard-edged action heroine.

As a refresh of the Resident Evil mythology, the series exhibits a strong pulse…

WYRMWOOD

Stars: Jay Gallagher, Bianca Bradley, Leon Burchill, Luke McKenzie, Yure Covich, Keith Agius, Catherine Terracini and Meganne West.
Writers: Kiah Roache-Turner and Tristan Roache-Turner
Director: Kiah Roache-Turner.

Rating: 4/5

Feverish fan-boy fanaticism meets film-making fearlessness in the undead ocker shocker, Wyrmwood. Brothers Kiah and Tristan Roache-Turner channel their clearly compulsive love for B-movie bloodletting into a debut work that honours the ‘Gore Gods’ of yore as efficiently as it announces the arrival of their own brand of genre genius.

Like death-metal music for the eyes, The Roache-Turner’s bludgeon their audience with a visual and aural onslaught that leaves no skull unexploded in their depiction of a hell-on-earth that is the new Australia. Bold enough to draw upon that hoary old horror trope ‘the meteor shower’ as the narrative kicker, the debutant filmmakers (Kiah gets sole directing honours; both take a writing credit) embark upon a slight but superbly entertaining survival story that pits everyman hero Barry (Jay Gallagher), his sister Brooke (Bianca Bradley, in a ballsy, up-for-anything performance) and new mate Benny (scene-stealer Leon Burchill) against a sunburnt nation of flesh cravers.

Horror-hounds will find the Roache-Turner’s gleeful cinematic nightmare pleasingly familiar. The most influential works are certainly Peter Jackson’s Braindead (aka Dead Alive, 1992), which featured the steely blue and rich crimson colour palette embraced by DOP Tim Nagle; Sam Raimi’s Army of Darkness (1992), with its ultra-quick zooms, rapid-fire editing; and, Dr George Miller’s Mad Max (1979), with its ‘vengeful, grieving father’ anti-hero and mastery of open-road car-on-car action. Nods to Zack Snyder’s Dawn of the Dead remake (2004) and fellow Aussie sibling-auteurs Michael and Peter Spierig’s Undead (2003) are also present.

But instead of a repackaged homage to their teen year favourites, The Roache-Turners afford Wyrmwood its own strong sense of self-worth. One character’s telepathic connection to the zombie hordes proves crucial to the narrative’s effectiveness; the implication that zombie by-products may be the newest renewable energy is a sly masterstroke; and, a revelation (however tenuously defined) that a universal blood type unites the survivors hints at a hopeful outcome for humanity.

Less assured is the establishment of the film’s real-world villains. The zombies terrify on a visceral level, but the vile antics of a disco-dancing, psychopathic scientist (Berryn Schwerdt) charged with assimilating zombie spinal fluid and Brooke’s human blood don’t sufficiently set up the level of conflict required to ensure a convincing third act face-off with a monologue-ing military jerk (Luke McKenzie). Some perfunctory fisticuffs rob the zombies and the audience of the apocalyptic-size melee expected (such as that delivered by Raimi in his third and epic Evil Dead film); it is the only instance where the meagre budget (an astonishing A$150,000) may have handicapped the auteur’s ambition.

Irrespective of its shortcomings, Wyrmwood will prove a horror festival staple for the rest of 2015 and a boys-own party favourite well into its home entertainment afterlife. As spelt out by blokish bushman Frank (a terrific Keith Agius) in one of the film’s rare quiet moments, the Book of Revelations told of the fallen star ‘Wormwood,’ sent plummeting to Earth by the trumpet cry of an angel, decimating all but those God left to determine their own destinies. For all its grotesque hellishness, Wyrmwood is similarly heaven-sent.

Wyrmwood will open the Perth Underground Film Festival on February 12; tickets available here.