A long, long time ago in the context of a Judeo-Christian symbolic field conceptual galaxies away, the 'Apocalypse' signaled a definitive rupture in space, time and human activity. Nobody 'survived' the apocalypse. Survival in terms of prolonging terrestrial life and preserving social systems wasn't even the point. 'Post'-Apocalypse, you'd be stuck in either heaven or hell with no hope of social mobility. The thought that a ragtag collective would continue to plod over a world abandoned by deities was heretical—plain and simple. It just wouldn't make sense.
To the good fortune of horror film directors, in 1945 God was replaced by the atom bomb. A bomb is fallible: it doesn't necessarily have to wipe out humanity, just humanity as we know it. A 'Post'-Apocalyptic world can become something more than a cosmic non-entity. It can be a theme park of utopian dimensions, a space where we realize our secular desires without the social restraints. A heaven for the 21st century if there ever was one.
Surprisingly, few Zombie film directors cashed in on this angle. Romero introduced the 'Marxist' Zombie: a somnambulant consumer devouring his neighbors. Throughout the '70s and '80s, Italian exploitation spin-offs capitalized on spooky gothic imagery. In the late '90s, the Zombie underwent a facelift, transforming into a supercharged monster.
The AIDS crisis, the existential crisis—both have found expression in the Zombie, but only Ruben Fleischer has explored the warmer side of Apocalypse in a Zombie film. In the tradition of Roger Corman's "Gas-s-s" or "It Became Necessary to Destroy the World in Order to Save It," Fleischer's "Zombieland" will keep you wishing for the Apocalypse.
But what do we talk about when we talk about Zombie survival scenarios? In a world rife with disaster, why do we spend so much time mentally preparing for a monster that doesn't even exist? And in colleges these days, who hasn't? The 'what would you do in the wake of a Zombie outbreak?' places number one on the list of hypotheticals bandied about the dinner table.
Dear reader, I propose that the 'Zombie hypothetical' has replaced the theological debate of yesteryear. A zombie outbreak poses problems available to the senses but ultimately unanswerable. Should one escape, for instance, on a boat, a buggy or a helicopter? Each has its points, but the best possible answer we'll never know. Our Zombie theologians exemplify the spirit of our age. Zombie survivalists are competitive loners given to role playing and asceticism. They are highly pragmatic but not in a way that matters. They are masters of a virtual world.
Ruben Fleischer is the Norman Rockwell of our decade. He has recognized domestic Americans for what they are and what simultaneously brings out the best in them—Zombies! He primly captures every Zombie theologian's dream scenario: truck, unlimited firearms, computer nerd self-reflection toting 'survival list' philosophy, bad-ass chicks and Woody Harrelson. Yes, Woody's wearing a snake skin jacket and he's just the fun, sadistic southerner you wanted him to be.
Everything about this movie works because Fleischer has dared to give full expression to the most important debate concerning alternate worlds in our time. Consequently, he claims access to the closest thing we have to heaven post- apocalypse. Case closed. See this movie. And "Gas-s-s." See that too.