Spanish Horror Flicks

Okay, it's been quite the hiatus, but I'm back. I don't really have an excuse for keeping everyone waiting, but here's what I've been up to lately.

1. I went to Berlin. It was awesome. It had a really young, artsy vibe to it.
2. I watched religious processions during Semana Santa, Holy Week.
3. I went to Easter Mass in the cathedral in Cádiz.
4. I got sunburnt.

I also got together with some friends recently and watched REC, an excellent 2007 Spanish horror movie. I think it's probably my new favorite movie. I wrote a review of it, which I'll share with you guys now. I feel like it needs a title, but, as usual, I'm drawing a blank. Any suggestions would be appreciated (but not necessarily used).

Here's the review:

When faced with a zombie apocalypse, the biggest challenge seems to be finding shelter. This theme repeats itself ad nauseam in the zombie genre. Our heroes hole themselves up in a building previously dedicated to something harmless (or at least totally unrelated to bloodthirsty undead cannibals), something like a house or a bar or a prison, until the safety of the place is somehow compromised and the survivors must pack up (if there’s time, which there never is) and seek refuge elsewhere. The goal is: you’re inside, the zombies are outside.

2007’s REC turns this motif on its head and the result is true nightmare fodder. This time the goal is not shelter, but escape. While attempting to document local firemen on a typical night of work, a reporter and her cameraman follow their subjects on what seems to be a routine call, only to find themselves in an apartment building slowly filling up with infected people-eaters. Of course, they could just leave, if it weren’t for the sudden, unexpected quarantine placed upon the building. The reporter and her cameraman friend decide to film everything as they try to get from inside (where the zombies are) to outside (where there are no zombies), against the wishes of the unnervingly composed health officials outside, whose calm voices can be heard via megaphone throughout the movie, discouraging the protagonists from trying to escape and reassuring them that the situation is under control.

Despite borrowing from movies that came before it, REC manages to surprise and terrify. The idea of a zombie virus is nothing new and neither is the Blair-Witchesque raw-footage-style camerawork, but directors Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza employ the latter effectively, maximizing the horror inherent in the scenario they’ve concocted. This type of cinematography lends a realistic feel to a movie that already feels too realistic in a world where seemingly every year brings with it a new potential epidemic. It also has the advantage of bringing the viewer close to the action, giving the illusion of firsthand experience. It’s almost as if said viewer is trapped in the building with the movie’s characters; the claustrophobia they experience is more contagious than the zombie virus that started everything.

One of the reasons zombie movies like REC are so frightening is that the monsters are average, everyday people—in this case, the woman who lives on the third floor or the little girl who’s sick with “tonsillitis.” Casual acquaintances suddenly become vicious killers with an appetite for blood and brains. But after viewing REC, one is left with the creeping suspicion that these zombies are merely a distraction from the film’s real monsters: the faceless, indifferent health officials surrounding the building, who not only refuse to help but in a sense are actually responsible for the plight of the protagonists. Of course, one imagines that they're trying their best and doing what they think is right, but it doesn't make their inaction any easier to digest. Human beings deciding that other human beings are dispensable—that’s what’s really scary.