Recent Release Reviewed: Pontypool

Pontypool
Starring: Stephen McHattie, Lisa Houle, Georgina Reilly
Written by: Tony Burgess, based on his novel
Director: Bruce McDonald

"Sydney Briar is alive. Sydney Briar is alive. Sydney Briar is alive"

If you think we've seen too many vampire films recently, cast your mind back to a few years ago and remember the glut of zombie movies. After the success of 28 Days Later, Shaun of the Dead, and the Dawn of the Dead remake, multiplexes were flooded with different takes on the subgenre. After a while things seemed to die down and occasionally we'd get a really good zombie movie, like Rec. We're at a level now where the word "zombie" won't provoke a sigh of boredom, and it's nice to have that back again!

So, Pontypool is a 2008 film from Canada, that director Bruce McDonald would prefer we wouldn't call a zombie movie. Sorry, Bruce, but it is the easiest way to describe the film without resorting to a made-up word. It's only got one recognisable face in Watchmen star Stephen McHattie (he played the first Nite Owl), it's low budget and it takes place almost entirely in one location. And it works.
Shock-jock Grant Mazzy (McHattie) has fallen from grace. He's now working for the local radio station in Pontypool, that operates out of the town's church basement. The show's producer Sydney (Lisa Houle) is getting tired of his attempts to make the local news inflammatory, while the young assistant, Laurel-Ann (Georgina Reilly), is a little smitten with him, sneaking scotch for his coffee. Then the "Sunshine chopper", which is in fact a man sitting in his car on top of a hill, reports that people have started attacking each other. Before long the whole town has gone mad, and the three must find out how to avoid being infected with the strange virus.

Bruce McDonald has stated that Orson Welles' War of the Worlds broadcast was the touchstone for this film, and what a fine touchstone to have. It's always nice to see character actors take on a leading part, and McHattie is superb. An irreverent hero in the finest 70s tradition, it's largely his performance that keeps us so involved, as Mazzy goes from wry sarcasm to geniune terror. Houle is also good as the single mum producer, and Reilly is effective, although given less to work with.

The idea of Pontypool's virus is an interesting one. Essentially, certain words have somehow become infected. The easier they are to understand, the quicker they are poisoned. At around the 20 minute mark, a French language announcement hijacks the radio station's signal. Mazzy and Sydney translate it, reading it out as they go. As Mazzy speaks, they get to the troubling end of the message: "Do not translate this message". The key to surviving, it seems, is to not speak English.

Technically speaking, the infected in Pontypool aren't zombies. They aren't undead, they are just brainless, focusing in on people's speech. However, the familiar tropes of the zombie film are present and correct. The infected vomit blood, they besiege the church in which Mazzy and his team have barricaded themselves. And there's the familiar social commentary. The army arrive, shooting people indescriminately, and they soon become as much of a danger to our heroes as the infected.

Unfortunately, the film is so enamoured of its premise that some tension is lost in the final third as the plot is explained over and over again. While the idea is complicated, it doesn't require quite the amount of exposition that the film gives it. The horror takes a back seat as Mazzy and Sydney discuss how to avoid infection. It's interesting, but not quite as gripping as the first two acts.
Overall, Pontypool is an intelligent, exciting entry in an overcrowded subgenre, and is well worth seeking out. McHattie is superb, and I look forward to the sequel, already in production, Pontypool Changes. Apparently, if the second is a success, a third film is written, Pontypool changes everything. It's also well worth sticking around for the end credits, as a nice little coda rounds things off in great style.

7/10