LOVE THEM

In the lore of film monsters, zombies are kind of the joke. They move slowly, moan like they need medication and trip over themselves more often than Jamie Lee Curtis did in "Halloween." Compared to werewolves, vampires and Michael Myers, they don't seem like much. And yet zombie movies are consistently the best and most imaginative that the horror genre has to offer.

People who get hung up on zombies' physical deficiencies are missing the point. Filmmakers like George Romero, whose 1968 film "Night of the Living Dead" basically invented the modern zombie, incorporated contemporary social themes into a genre otherwise known for mindless, entertainment. The superior horror of the zombie lies not in what it can do (stalk at sloth-speed, bang futilely on doors), but what it represents: a complete breakdown of social order. Zombies arise in stumbling, post-apocalyptic droves, leaving survivors in paranoid isolation. In "28 Days Later," humans become as serious a threat to each other as the zombies themselves. In an age where a nuclear apocalypse sometimes seems likely, it's a vision that scares on a lot of levels-and leaves you with more to think about than your typical slasher flick.

But the real value of the zombie film lies in the practical knowledge it provides. After all, once the nukes start flying, the few that remain have to duke it out for what's left-possibly amidst the flesh-hungry living dead. "Dawn of the Dead" taught us that an abandoned mall is a great place to find shelter and supplies, and that fortification-no matter where you're holed up-is a must. These are invaluable lessons that may soon come in handy, assuming you've seen a zombie flick or two. Remember to find yourself an easily-wielded weapon, and keep an eye on the gas tank. Oh yeah, and always aim for the head.

-Nick Moore

HATE THEM

Zombies are dead. That might not come as a surprise, but let me clarify: Zombie films are dead. They've been shot in the head by a series of shitty remakes and video game crossovers. It's depressing that the best zombie film in recent years was a comedic homagee ("Shaun of the Dead"). No one is even sure what a zombie is any more: Are they sick ("28 Days/Weeks")? Can they run (2004's "Dawn of the Dead")? Are they intelligent ("I Am Legend")? In the bubblegum world of "Resident Evil" zombies are whatever stumbles in the way of Milla Jovovich's roundhouse kicks.

Early directors used the horror genre as social satire. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead" series are about race, science and consumerism in addition to cannibalistic girls (note: not sorority sisters). But today's zombie films are merely the splattering of gore, guts and genitals on the camera screen for pubescent boys. Yet for all the blood and politics that classic movies posses, they are lighthearted in the face of an undead apocalypse. While "28 Days Later" and its pseudo-zombie ilk make you want to go into the fetal position, scenes of cheesy disembowelments in "Dawn of the Dead" produce belly laughs.

Today's fast, agile, and faceless zombies may be physically superior to their foot-dragging cousins, but they're not nearly as frightening. Classic zombies built up tension as they stumbled and stalked prey, yet it was the vacant faces of former humans that made them scary and hilarious. Today, directors up the ante, making the undead stronger, faster and smarter in each film, pumping them up with ghoulish steroids. It replaces the directorial talent to scare viewers with circumstance rather than sensation. Hopefully these faux zombies will get a cricket paddle to the head and their topical and funnier cousins will rise again.

-Derek Sagehorn

Tags: THUMB WARS