ZOMBEAVERS: Bucking Trends

Director: Jordan Rubin
Writers: Jordan Rubin, Al Kaplan, Jon Kaplan
Cast: Rachel Melvin, Courtney Palm, Lexi Atkins, Hutch Dano, Jake Weary, Peter Gilroy
Runtime: 85 mins.
2014

Watching bad horror requires mental gymnastics no lesser than those required for art house films. Part of that has to do with the violent reductionism that comes with the term "bad horror." It can mean all sorts of things: The Troll 2 idiosyncratic acid dream kind of bad. The House at the End of the Street dull slog kind of bad. The Cabin in the Woods only pretending at being bad. The Rubber self-consciousness that elevates the filmmaker above the audience kind of bad. Then there's something like James Gunn's directorial debut, Slither, which has much more in common with Zombeavers than the rest. This list of movies shares little beyond the designation of "horror," each featuring distinctive tones, themes, goals, and levels of irony. "Bad horror" lumps together movies that have scant business being in the same conversation, and it can lead to two people talking past each other. "Oh yeah, I heard that movie was awful," could be said with a disdainful scoff, or with barely contained glee--and it could be received in many more diverse ways.

It all comes down to meeting a movie on its own terms. Zombeavers first splashed into the public's consciousness with a trailer that went viral and shot up to 1,000,000+ views in a week's time. In the wake of this surprise publicity, folks all across the internet were heralding the movie as the next Sharknado. Now, I like Sharknado. It's fun, but the pervasive this-is-soooo-awful-let's-all-laugh-at-how-awful-this-is attitude can get grating after a while. The sly winking is palpable. I'm an advocate of self-awareness, but there's something disingenuous about setting out to make a bad movie. It can seem like the creators just want a backdoor excuse to wave away any problems the final product might have. Merely advertising It's Supposed to Be Bad! does not forgive all ills.


That's why it's so refreshing to hear Zombeavers writer/director Jordan Rubin playfully distance himself from any associations with Sharknado (which was reaching cultural consciousness just as Rubin was editing his project).

"Sharknado is a joke on a joke," says Rubin. "That's what I was looking not to do."

All the better, as it's clear that nobody who made Zombeavers is embarrassed about their involvement, least of all Rubin, who admits that the idea for the film was generated by co-writer Al Kaplan inventing the portmanteau title as a throwaway joke. Rubin, a forty-one year old former comedian, managed to scrounge up the funding for the film by cutting together a one minute teaser trailer using footage from seven different horror movies, five musical scores, and one beaver documentary. This is a passion project from beginning to end, and it shows in every frame of the movie. Rubin understands that earnestness is key. If everyone is giggling their way through a movie, the stakes shrink to nonexistence, and it feels like the filmmakers are having more fun than the audience. The best way to make a horror comedy is to take it seriously.

That doesn't keep Zombeavers from having its fun. This is the opening shot.

It's the side of a truck, a truck that would soon accidentally dump a barrel of toxic waste in an innocent river, of course. What precedes the dumping is a hilarious scene with snappy improvised dialogue and cameos by Bill Burr (the comedian) and John Mayer (the singer-songwriter) of all people. Between this and the goofy superimposed animated credits, it's clear that we're in for a movie that knows exactly what it is. But when the following scene starts with a young woman weeping alone in a public restroom, followed by an uncomfortable brush with the patriarchy, we start to pay closer attention.

That's where Zombeavers finds its sweet spot. It's got all the schlocky horror trappings of young attractive sexually active victims, ridiculous monster menaces, and an isolated abandoned cabin. Then it surprises you by queering the gender roles in interesting ways, opting for engaging animatronics instead of bad CGI, and enhancing the setting by providing clear stakes and intertwining the location with the interpersonal conflicts. None of what I just listed is flawless, but it's certainly respectable for a goofy comedian's microbudgeted first feature.

I don't think I need to lay out the plot for you. The toxic waste spills, the main characters are trapped in their cabin, and the beavers cut the phone lines. Pretty standard stuff. Besides, there are a few neat little twists and turns that I wouldn't dream of giving away. Suffice it to say that I was never bored. It can't hurt that the movie speeds along at a good clip, claiming only 85 minutes for itself, a blessing in an era of overstuffed movies.

The animatronic beavers (provided by Creature Effects--I Am Legend, The Lone Ranger, Ted--more because they liked the script than because they were getting paid adequately) are pretty dopey and fun to watch, which is really all you can ask for. In general the movie is constantly entertaining, with an occasional spike in quality. Certain moments--a clever edit, a zooming camera shot, a crackling line of dialogue--are far better than what we're used to seeing in a movie like this. I wouldn't be surprised if Rubin, like Gunn before him, goes on to have a nice filmmaking career. But I am particularly impressed by writer/composer brothers Al and Jon Kaplan. Their soundtrack is a great mix of new and old, much of it sounding like something from the A Nightmare on Elm Street era of horror films. There's even a title track in which a Sinatra-style crooner belts out "Zom-beavers, Zom-bea-ea-vers!"

Beyond that, I don't know what to tell you. If you're the kind of person who lights up when you hear a movie title like Zombeavers, watch this movie and you will not be disappointed. It's the kind of guilty pleasure that ends up being guilty of absolutely nothing. Though it's not so innocent either.

2.5 / 5  BLOBS