Død snø aka Dead Snow
Director: Tommy Wirkola
Norway 2009
91 min
Tagline: Ein! Zwei! Die!
Double April Fools Day on you all! First I make a bad joke about the subject for my essay, then I disappear for more than a month - surprise! I will say only this: I was gone, bin Laden died, and now I'm back again. You may draw your own conclusions. (But please build your conspiracy theories around something Mata Hari like, so I may feel a little flattered.)
The other day I watched this film Dead Snow, which I had bought on DVD for my brother as a Christmas gift (with accompanying Merry Christmas card with Joseph Goebbels on it, as is mandatory). I had not seen it, but a film that claims to be "the best Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made" just has to be good. Not only do I think that Dead Snow is the best Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made - I suspect that it is the only Norweigan Nazi-Zombie-splatter film that has ever been made. And hopefully it will not spawn an army of cheap copies.
Just the idea of Dead Snow is pretty mind blowing. I watched the trailer on a pretty wild (read: "lots-of-liquor") party about a year ago, and it is but now that I have been able to still my hunger for it. Now, this is a tongue-in-cheek film, as many zombie films are. But it is unique, oh, it is unique! You may first watch the trailer and get an idea of what we are talking about here. Count the film references - which film are you for instance thinking about when the youngsters open the box with Nazi gold? (I know, quiz for 7-year olds. I just want my readers to feel a little smart once in a while. Altruism for the win.)
If the plot isn't obvious from the trailer, it is just as simple and cliché as a gang of stupid/horny teenagers getting the brilliant idea to live in a filthy cabin far up in the Norweigan mountains. Of course only one knows how to find the way back to the car/civilization, and he is also the only one with a snowmobile. One girl is supposed to meet up with the others at the cabin, but is viciously hunted down and eaten by (what we suspect is) a Nazi zombie in the very first scene of the film. Of course the guy with the only snowmobile and the only sense of direction goes off to look for her, when the rest of the gang are attacked by... well, a pretty dead, rotten and angry Nazi army that want their Leprechaun gold back.
Aside from just being a wonderfully entertaining film, perfect to watch with a few cans of beer and a loved one by your side that can alternate between laughter and horror to your privilege (I advise both men and women to use each other in these kind of situations), Dead Snow is also an intelligent parody of the zombie film genre. They don't give a damn about ridiculous plot holes (why would a teenage girl get the idea to walk across the mountains by herself? what is that old man doing in the mountains, and why does he just invite himself into the cabin to tell them the history of the Nazi occupation and that their coffee tastes awful? why would a hot girl want to fuck with a guy taking a shit? and so on), and the blood and gore is wonderfully entertaining.
It could happen... if you are insanely disturbed and grotesque. Guys, don't get your hopes up.
One of my favorite scenes is when that Rastafari chick is chased by zombies and manages to hide in a tree, just to have a fucking crow making noises and draw attention to her hiding spot. In desperation she grabs the crow around the neck and bangs it against the tree until it dies. (Haha. Macabre and humorous. I'm sick, I know.) She looks down to see if the zombies have gone. Two uniformed zombies stand still under the tree, looking up on her. There is silence and stillness. The zombies start to climb the tree and the Rastafari chick throws the dead crow at them. It doesn't help.
Anti-humor is the shit. Watch this film now! And then you can brag about you being so cultural, having seen a Norweigan (or was it Swedish? maybe it was from Switzerland...?) movie, and therefore may get laid if you play your cards right. Thank me for that. My pleasure.
