Respond to these rapid questions in our The Dead Don T Die quiz and we will tell you which The Dead Don T Die character you are. Play it now.
As a result of falling in love with Jim Jarmusch’s style, as some of us did more than 30 years ago with “Stranger than Paradise,” you’ll come to believe that there is no such thing as a bad Jarmusch film, because you’ll judge each new film in relation to Jarmusch’s best work, rather than what anyone else might’ve theoretically done with the same material. Despite the fact that “The Dead Don’t Die” is far from Jarmusch’s best work, there is something to be said for the film’s zonked-out acceptance of death.
Everyone who’s seen any of the other zombie films released in the last half-century, particularly George Romero’s 1978 “Dawn of the Dead,” a satire on consumerism and American materialism in general, will be familiar with how this one plays out. Zombies take over the small town of Centerville (which remains unnamed despite the fact that the film was filmed in upstate New York) and begin wandering the land they once knew, repeating actions that once defined them, such as swinging a tennis racket or dragging a guitar or lawnmower. Brand names are mumbled like incantations by zombie children as they loiter in a demolished candy store. (“Skittles…”) One zombie (played by horror film veteran Larry Fessenden) eats an arm as if it were a turkey leg in a scene from the film. Then he shuffles away, muttering, “Cleveland, Ohio.” Rather than bleeding after being shot or slashed, the dead emit puffs of soot instead of blood. Ashes become ashes, dust becomes dust, and so on.
Our guides through this low-energy onslaught are the local police officers. Chief Cliff Robertson (Bill Murray) is hopeful that the zombie plague will be reversed or that it will recede on its own in the near future. Officer Ronnie Petersen (Adam Driver), his second-in-command, is convinced that things are going to end badly for him and his team. We know this because he repeats the phrase no less than four times, until Cliff becomes annoyed and apprehensive at the mention of it. Police officer Minerva “Mindy” Morrison (Chloe Sevigny) is an absolute wreck, much like the character of Veronica Cartwright did in the original “Alien” movie.
The police are so accustomed to their routine that when a local hermit named Bob (Tom Waits) responds to their inquiries about a farmer’s stolen chicken by shooting at them, they simply get back in their car and drive away from the scene. What will they do if things start to fall apart around them? According to the news, the world has tipped completely off its axis. Literally. Days are now significantly longer than they used to be. Night falls on us all at once. You are unable to receive a cell phone signal. There’s no commercial radio on, except for when a station plays Sturgill Simpson’s “The Dead Don’t Die,” which, as Ronnie informs us, is the theme song for the movie you’re currently viewing.
The other residents of the town react in a variety of ways, ranging from panic to resourcefulness. Frank Miller (Steve Buscemi), the aforesaid farmer who accused Hermit Bob of chicken stealing, barricades himself in his farmhouse to avoid being discovered. Bobby Wiggins (Caleb Landry Jones), a local businessman who runs a gas station and sells pop culture memorabilia, including posters for horror films that director Jim Jarmusch probably saw five times in theaters, and Hank Thompson (Danny Glover) barricade themselves in their hardware store for the duration of the film. Zelda Winston, the new undertaker at the Ever After Funeral Home, is the most capable character in the story (Tilda Swinton). Even as the horde of zombies approaches, she continues to stroll among them and slice them into pieces with her katana. (“Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai,” directed by Jim Jarmusch, would have been a perfect match for her.”)
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Each role has been cast with the exact actor you would expect to see in that type of role: for example, Driver is a soft-spoken, bespectacled nerd-hulk who gets a little too excited about the prospect of beheading former neighbors (the chief inquires as to whether he has ever played minor-league baseball); Driver is a soft-spoken, bespectacled nerd-hulk who gets a little too enthusiastic about the prospect of beheading former neighbors; Driver is a soft-spoken, bespectacled nerd-hul Swinton is a long-haired, steely-eyed, elfin badass who appears to exist outside of the confines of nationality or gender; Buscemi plays a blandly racist schmuck in a red hat whose impending death no one seems to care about; and the film is directed by a woman, who is also a badass. Carol Kane is a local alcoholic who has turned into a zombie, and her only line is “chardonnay.” Scenes that might otherwise have been merely genre box-checking are transformed into something strangely beautiful by Jarmusch (and his regular cinematographer Frederick Elmes, who is also a veteran of David Lynch’s films), particularly when characters drive slowly through ghoul-infested residential streets at night, steering around former neighbors, or when the camera lingers on an image that is as beautiful as it is unsettling, such as a tableau of undead faces mashed against storefront glass.
The premise of “The Dead Don’t Die” is as straightforward as they come. What I imagine it will be like is watching a great chef prepare something like a grilled cheese sandwich. Obviously, there’s only so much you can do with this particular dish, but it’s still entertaining to watch a master slice the cheese and blood-red tomatoes with the same grace as Zelda does. Jarmusch appears amused not only by how little his own screenplay asks of him, but also by the (perhaps unnecessarily strict) limitations he’s placed on himself in order to complete it. He concentrates extra-hard on his own self-awareness. Ultimately, it reminds me of those old Looney Tunes cartoon episodes where Bugs and Daffy realize they’re in a cartoon. The moment a character gains voice-over abilities and begins summarizing thematic aspects of the script that have already been established through acting and direction (such as the notion that, in a way, these mindless materialists were already dead, hmmm), it feels like Jarmusch is jabbing a bony elbow in the ribs of an art form he admires (Romero’s satire wasn’t subtle, either) while making extra-sure we understand what he’s
What exactly is he saying?
The Dead Don T Die Quiz
Worry.
Also, you will find out which character are you in this The Dead Don T Die quiz.
Prepare.
This is going to have a negative outcome.
There is a palpable sense of foreboding in the air. Pets and livestock hide from humans who used to call themselves their caretakers, who are now their enemies. They are well aware of what is about to happen.
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Ronnie’s point of view, which is that we’re all doomed, appears to be aligned with Jarmusch’s at times, as he observes the arduous journey to the finish line with a scientific curiosity. At other times, he is in sync with Zelda, whose mind appears to float above the chaos. At other times, he’s like Cliff, who’s depressed by the waning of his optimism. Towards the end, he could almost pass for Hermit Bob, hiding in the woods and peering into the final game through the foliage. The film “Only Lovers Left Alive” contains a stray line from Jarmusch’s vampire romance “Only Lovers Left Alive,” in which a bloodsucker confesses he’s buying property in Detroit because the coasts are certain to drown.)
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Apocalyptic explanations that are meant to be humorous are actually open-ended metaphors for real fears, both domestic and international, in the best Romero tradition. The world has been thrown off its axis by something known as “polar fracking,” which sounds like a jumble of words until you hear representatives of the polar fracking industry on the news, denying that the process is harmful to the environment. “Polar fracking” is a term that has been thrown around a lot lately. Centerville, a placid American town that appeared culturally and economically dead when the story began, is jolted out of its slumber by a literal seismic upheaval that causes one segment of the population to wish to murder the other segment. The mortal majority initially refuses to acknowledge that they are in the midst of an extinction-level crisis. When they finally realize what they’ve done, it’s too late: there are far too many of Them to stop them.
All of the paranoia is not directed in the same direction. In an early scene at the local diner, MAGA, that cliched symbol of America’s ideological crossroads, is seen yelling at the patrons. While Frank’s red cap proclaims, “Keep America White Again,” Hank, a black man, is unwittingly insulted, and although Hank shrugs it off, his weary expression confirms that this kind of thing has happened before. In the episode “Black,” the first zombie to knock on Frank’s door with the intent of eating his face off happens to be Black.
As in a “Twilight Zone” episode or a classic horror film, as in the most recent string of environmentally-focused Godzilla films, or as in the plague on Thebes that vexed Oedipus, the threat of extinction comes from within the species itself. It’s an unspoken response to our arrogance, our sins, and our inability to recognize that our time has come to an end, and that we are the ones who hastened the clock by being ignorant, greedy, and clueless. “So very ravenous,” Zelda observes the undead, and then damns the living as well, “but well past yer expiration date,” she says of the undead.
Punk rock in slow motion is the theme of this film.
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