Goth Chick News: Nice Warm Bodies on a Cold Winter Day
From Shakespeare to American Werewolf in London, audiences have always appreciated a little graveyard humor. And for those of us who thoroughly enjoy having the snot scared out of us in the theater, there’s almost nothing more sublime than the added adrenaline rush of not being able to decide whether to shriek with horror or laughter.
Therefore it was with double satisfaction that last week I got a look at the opening scene for a new flick called Warm Bodies; once because it furthers my prediction that zombies are the new vampires (following the polyester bell-bottoms that were the Twilight franchise, something had to give…) and twice because the clip was well, just so darn amusing.
Coming to theaters on February 1, just around the time when all of us in cold-weather states can relate to a zombie trapped in an airport terminal, Warm Bodies takes us into the mind of “R” the film’s protagonist zombie played by Nicholas Hoult (late of X-Men First Class and Clash of the Titans) as he tries to make sense of his current situation and potentially save mankind. The cast is rounded out by Dave Franco as “Perry” (James’ younger bro), Teresa Palmer as “Julie” and John Malkovich as “General Grigio.”
The fact that it has John Malkovich alone would be enough to get me to Warm Bodies on opening night.
So is it a horror movie? An action film? A romantic comedy?
Apparently it’s a little of everything including Shakespeare. According to IMDB:
The film is based loosely on Romeo and Juliet. “R” = “Romeo”; “Julia” = “Juliet; “Perry” = “Paris”; “M/Marcus” = “Mercutio”; “Nora” = Juliet’s “Nurse” (the character of Nora is also a nurse).
See for yourself… (embedded trailer after the jump).
This is a very brief interview – I’ll be doing a longer one with Ellen in the next few months. I wanted to catch up with her, though, about her 
When we finally reached “The Tale of Beren and Luthien,” my 
Early on in Sean Howe’s book-length history Marvel Comics: The Untold Story, the reader’s imagination is spurred by a throwaway anecdote: in 1937, New York magazine publisher Martin Goodman and his wife planned to return from a trip to Europe aboard the Hindenburg — on what would turn out to be the final tragic flight of the German dirigible, which ended with a terrifying aerial explosion and fire that led to the deaths of 36 people. Goodman, as it happened, was too late to get tickets and took a plane instead. You can’t help but wonder, though. What if he’d died then, before he’d expanded his magazine line to include comics? Before he’d hired his nephew Stanley to work in the office and do fill-in bits of writing? What if Marvel Comics, the subject of Howe’s book, had been stillborn? What would have been different in the development of comics, of popular culture, of the North American imagination? Maybe everything. Maybe nothing.
