TV

Charlie Brooker Predicted the Future (Before "Black Mirror")

A group of Big Brother housemates have yet to hear about the spreading viral pandemic...which is the exact premise of Dead Set

IFC

Picture this: There's a viral pandemic quickly sweeping across the globe.

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CULTURE

The Horrifying Corporate Zombies of Branded Twitter

Twitter brands want you to believe they're your friends, but they are all soulless monsters.

Photo by: Nathan Dumlao / Unsplash

In 2012, one of the death knells of Mitt Romney's failed campaign for the presidency was an endlessly replayed clip of him telling a heckler at a rally, "Corporations are people, my friend."

Mitt Romney- Corporations Are People!www.youtube.com


He was expressing his opposition to raising the corporate tax rate, because that ultimately takes money out of (rich) people's pockets. It's not exactly a stunning take for a Republican politician, but what made the clip so damning was how plainly it exposed Romney's fundamental flaw as a candidate. He didn't seem like a real person. There was nothing authentic in any aspect of his public persona. Whether it was Mormonsim, political ambitions, or hundreds of millions of dollars that drained him of all flavor, the result was the concept of bland corporate professionalism made manifest in a suit and a haircut. He was the Uncanny Valley candidate.

There is a parallel issue that has emerged in recent years on Twitter, and I can't quite handle it. Having learned the lesson of Mitt Romney, every brand on Earth has made it their mission to present themselves on Twitter as people with some actual personality—as your cool, quirky friend. And people genuinely invest in these exchanges. There are endless articles about which Twitter brands are "sassiest" and about Old Spice "beefing" with Taco Bell. Who had the better zinger?!

Whichever side we choose, we are the losers when we invest emotion into these empty vessels, because brands are not on our side. There's no such thing as a sassy or a quirky brand, and there are no "good" brands. Brands are not people. They are imaginary entities, devoid of character and attribute—corporate figures that can be erased and remade on the whim of a focus group. They can't feel or think or love, and they can't die. They are philosophical zombies, except that—like the flesh-eating corpse version of zombies—they are doing their best to kill us all.

One of the most upsetting things about these Twitter brands is that some of the people writing these tweets are legitimately clever. There's a lot of real talent being subsumed by the capitalistic effort to commodify every aspect of our lives and convert all of Earth's vital resources into profit as quickly as inhumanly possible—before impending climactic collapse destroys the global economy and the wealthy retreat to luxury bunkers, protected from the fulfillment of Mad Max's hellish vision.

Creative ability that could be used to connect people and make them aware of the pressing issues that concern the entire planet is instead being funneled into efforts that can only numb us. These innocuous jokes build warm feelings toward emblems of the forces we should be rallying against—a hazy comfort that conceals the fact that our society is rapidly destroying the possibility of livable conditions for humanity.

And in our numb state, we see Greta Thunberg's passion and assume it's an act. We question the price tag of the Green New Deal and resist the vision of a transformational shift akin to the war movement in the 40s—which is seen as an unquestioned good, despite the fact that climate change is a far more dangerous threat to humanity than the Nazis could ever have hoped to be.

In our numb state, we see protesters clogging the streets and, instead of joining them—propagating a general strike that spreads throughout our cities until we can begin the real work of dismantling the cancerous systems of greed consuming our planet—we complain that they are making us late to our jobs. The jobs where we serve our unfeeling masters: the corporate zombies that will kill us all.

FILM

"The Dead Don't Die" Review: Very Slow Kills of Even Slower Zombies

If you're looking for zombie-killing action, remember this is a Jim Jarmusch movie.

The Dead Don't Die is exactly what one would expect a Jim Jarmusch zombie movie to be.

At least, it's exactly what anyone should expect a Jim Jarmusch zombie movie to be. This is the director of Broken Flowers and Paterson, so audiences know going in that The Dead Don't Die won't be the typical Bill Murray romp (when was the last time Murray did a romp anyway?)

The plot centers on the small town of Centerville as it faces a zombie outbreak, which is caused by polar fracking spinning Earth off its axis. Officers Cliff Robertson (Murray) and Ronnie Peterson (Adam Driver) have to warn the town and fight zombies after dark.

These are definitely zombies at a Jim Jarmusch pace. Not only are they the traditionally slow, lumbering, George Romero-style zombies (no fast running zombies here, thankfully), but Jarmusch slows down the action even more. For some reason, the characters take their time killing the zombies.

Don't expect Dawn of the Dead-sized hordes, either, or even Walking Dead-sized. This is an indie movie, after all. There's a horde of only seven or eight zombies on Main Street, although there are a lot more at the cemetery. Zombies on the athletic field allow for some fun gags, so Jarmusch does indulge in some of the traditional "zombies resuming their routines" jokes.

If you've seen other Jarmusch movies, like Paterson or Coffee and Cigarettes, you can sort of apply those tones to this zombie movie. The Dead Don't Die isn't even as loyal to its genre as Ghost Dog was to samurai movies or Only Lovers Left Alive was to vampire movies; those films still took their time, but they adapted to the genre. Instead, Jarmusch adapts zombies to his tone and pace.

The Dead Don't Die has a light tone, but it's not laugh-out-loud funny. Quirky would be the clearest way to describe it. Nobody's making jokes, but they're saying things that are a little off-kilter. The first meta joke was fun, but after the second meta joke, you can totally predict what the third meta joke will be.

There are a lot of characters standing around talking, making changes or guessing where tourists (led by Selena Gomez) are from. The mortician, Zelda Winston (Tilda Swinton), addresses every character by their title and full name, because that's an unusual way to talk. Murray does exactly one lone pratfall. In 2019, let's celebrate what little Bill Murray-physical comedy we still get.

At least there are plenty of gory zombie bites. When zombies are killed in this movie, they spray black dust instead of gory innards, which gives it a somewhat classier effect. If you're looking for zombie-killing, once again these characters take their time killing zombies. Even though they know the rules to aim for the head, they're in no rush.

I have to call a little B.S. on Jarmusch's deep cut references, though. Zoe (Selena Gomez) tells store clerk Bobby Wiggins (Caleb Landry Jones), "Your film knowledge is impressive" on the basis of his references to Psycho, George Romero, and Nosferatu. Come on, Zoe, aim higher. But maybe she was just being nice to the townie.

Jim Jarmusch is not at everyone's speed, but he's firmly established his own style and pacing, so everyone should know what to expect from The Dead Don't Die. It's not Zombieland. The Dead Don't Die is a traditional Jim Jarmusch movie—slowed down by zombies.