In director Bruce McDonald's decidedly unconventional horror film Pontypool, certain words of spoken English carry a virus that is transmitted to the listener only when they are comprehended; the infected person then develops strange speech patterns, violent tendencies, and attempts to further spread the disease by talking to others.
Canadian 'Shock Jock' DJ Grant Mazzy (Stephen McHattie) is hosting his early morning talk-radio show when an outbreak of the virus occurs in the nearby town of Pontypool; as reports come in about sudden riots and inexplicable mob scenes, Mazzy and his radio crew, producer Sydney Briar (Lisa Houle) and assistant Laurel-Ann (Georgina Reilly), slowly begin to realise the awful truth about their situation.
Pontypool has the kind of unique, thought-provoking premise that would usually demand several viewings in order for me to get a firm grip on and form solid opinions about precisely what has occurred; what a shame then that the single radio station setting, the stilted dialogue, and stage-like execution aren't anywhere near enthralling enough for me to want to repeat the experience in a hurry.
The more pretentious of horror fans will no doubt defend the film regardless of its rather monotonous nature, but I guess I'll just have to be content with my initial, perhaps somewhat basic understanding of the film and get back to my traditional (and, more importantly, fun) zombie flicks—you know... the sort where you actually see the threat rather than just hear it described over the airwaves.
Canadian 'Shock Jock' DJ Grant Mazzy (Stephen McHattie) is hosting his early morning talk-radio show when an outbreak of the virus occurs in the nearby town of Pontypool; as reports come in about sudden riots and inexplicable mob scenes, Mazzy and his radio crew, producer Sydney Briar (Lisa Houle) and assistant Laurel-Ann (Georgina Reilly), slowly begin to realise the awful truth about their situation.
Pontypool has the kind of unique, thought-provoking premise that would usually demand several viewings in order for me to get a firm grip on and form solid opinions about precisely what has occurred; what a shame then that the single radio station setting, the stilted dialogue, and stage-like execution aren't anywhere near enthralling enough for me to want to repeat the experience in a hurry.
The more pretentious of horror fans will no doubt defend the film regardless of its rather monotonous nature, but I guess I'll just have to be content with my initial, perhaps somewhat basic understanding of the film and get back to my traditional (and, more importantly, fun) zombie flicks—you know... the sort where you actually see the threat rather than just hear it described over the airwaves.