"I don't talk to dead men!"
Based on a comic book mini-series by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith, when I first heard the concept for this tale of Artic undead, I immediately cried fowl… because there was this duck flying straight for my head and it kinda freaked me out. Stupid puns aside, it sounded to me like somebody was ripping off a 1995 “Tales From the Crypt” episode called "Comes the Dawn" that gave us the same concept. However, unlike “Comes the Dawn”, which featured personal demi-heroes Bruce Payne and Michael Ironsides (as well as the boner-ific Vivian Wu), 30 Days of Night instead stars the generally lame Josh Hartnett, the uninspiring chick who played the mom from Amityville 2005, and the “sometimes yay, sometimes nay” Ben Foster (this being his third comic book movie in as many years). However, the flick’s directed by David Slade who did Hard Candy, and was adapted for the screen by Steve Niles himself, one of the four guys who wrote the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie, and Brian Nelson who wrote Hard Candy. In the words of the fat rocker guy named after loaved beef: two out of three ain’t bad.
Unfortunately, the movie was done by Ghost House Pictures. If that sounds familiar, it’s because GH is Sam Raimi’s production company. That’s right, the same crap factory that put out the American Grudge flicks, the Boogeyman movies, Rise: Blood Hunter, and are currently cobbling an Evil Dead remake for some time next year. Not a great track record going in, but somehow 30 Days of Night (not to be confused with 40 Days and 40 Nights which, ironically enough, also starred Slosh Fartnett) manages to pull through.
Our tale takes place in the sleepy town of Barrow, Alaska: the Northiest of places in the US, secluded 80 miles from any other civilization, and where they spend one month of each year in absolute darkness. Yes folks, we have a title. Sheriff Eben Olesen (Fartnett) and his Fire Marshall wife Stella (Amityville remake wife) are currently on the outs and looking for an Eskimo lawyer to sign their papers. Of course she just happens to be in Barrow when the shit hits the fan, so don't be surprised if these two survive to the end and cancel their separation plans. Then again, such traditional movie plot points are being jerked around more and more in recent years, so maybe we will be in for a surprise or two...
As far as that shit hitting the fan, a very disagreeable stranger (Ben Foster in what turns out to be his greatest role EVER) comes to town on the last day of sunlight for the sleepy snowburb, his teeth dirty and decayed like my alcoholic cousin, talking strangeness like a toned down Renfield, seeking raw meat and warm whiskey. Is it coincidence that he shows up in town right before the coming vampire migration that nobody in town has quite caught onto yet? Yeah, and maybe Bea Arthur and Elizabeth Taylor will do a girl-on-girl spread for this year’s Christmas issue of “Penthouse”. Anyway, when Barrow's new weirdo gets into a tussle with Sheriff Eb, his butt goes into the slammer... which would take on a whole other meaning if he were being put into a jail where he wasn't the only inmate. Ah, jokes about forced gay incarceration intercourse. That never gets old.
As you can guess, the electricity and phone lines go out, people start dying in droves, and the once virgin white Alaskan snows start to resemble a virgin’s dress on prom night. Oh yeah, and PETA people be warned: vampires don't take kindly to canines. The last thing they need interrupting their dinner is the entree's best friend, after all. The whole thing turns into a very Return of the Living Dead style of movie, with the populace being slaughtered in the streets by the nigh-invincible bloodsuckers as a small contingent of survivors (anyone whose role isn't credited under "slaughtered townsfolk") holds up in a secure locale and tries to figure out what they're up against.
Unfortunately, it’s right around here that the movie starts to lag. Once the majority of the townsfolk have been relieved of everyday stresses like paying their phone bill, watching their cholesterol, and breathing, the bloodsuckers and their Nosferatu Esperanto take a total backseat to our survivors. We have no idea what these ghouls do with their free time, if and when they sleep, or why they can’t seem to find an attic full of the town’s last remaining meat in a village that consists of 5 or 6 streets. For that matter, there’s one guy who lives underneath his porch for a good week or two before he’s finally discovered. Are vampires so lazy they’re even unwilling to bend at the waist in the search for food?! Furthermore, they may have 150 or so victims to feed on for the next month, but I think they’re a little liberal with all the gore they’re spilling in the streets…
There’s some horrors to be had (both physical, emotional, and psychological), there’s some messy violence to be seen, there’s some gunfire and explosions to be enjoyed, and there’s one big action sequence involving the coolest piece of construction equipment to ever grace a movie screen (and it’d give Ashley Williams a raging round of tent pitching for sure). I semi-called the ending without even reading the comic (I’m more a fan of Niles and Templesmith’s “Cal McDonald” stories), but I chalk that up to watching too many movies and reading too many funnybooks, not to it being predictable or anything. One of the better endings to a flick I've seen in quite a bit, and an above average flick overall. The makeup effects are great, and probably as close as you'll ever see to a Templesmith creation brought to life outside of an animation studio. I never thought the man’s unique art style could translate into a movie like this, but the special effects department kicked me in the backs of my knees and showed me who the boss is, and it ain’t Tony Danza. The vampires have their own unique look that won’t be mistaken for any other form of plasma slurper. The violence is amazingly well done too for what surprisingly limited amount of it there is that we actually see. One sequence of Sheriff Eb lobbing off one guy’s head is amazingly graphic and detailed, which is made all the more surprising given how similar previous scenes deliberately show you none of the actual splatter. I even have to give it up for the creative way the flick addresses certain horror movie archetypes that far too many flicks just pass off as “bad luck” for the characters, like why nobody has a cell phone when that aforementioned defecation meets the spinning blades of bad luck. Also, one last kudos, thank you to 30 Days of Night for finally showing everyone that decapitations are never as easy as severing someone’s head with a single blow, no matter how sharp your weapon of choice…
Moral of the Story: Vampires suck at Hide & Seek, and that's not a pun.
