It does not have to be December for you to watch Anna and the Apocalypse, a zombie high school Christmas musical that is guaranteed to make you laugh and cry! I have seen it twice now—a little over a year ago on one of the saddest days of my life and now during a global pandemic, and it still holds up. The titular character is looking forward to life after high school unaware that a global pandemic will change her life and concerns in ways that she could never imagine. Now she has to fight zombies to reunite with her father and classmates who are stuck at school after a Christmas talent show.
Anna and the Apocalypse ended up in my queue because zombies, but it moved up in my queue in a misguided belief that it was an Anna Kendrick musical and was my way of apologizing into the void for underestimating Kendrick after seeing and loving A Simple Favor. It is not a Kendrick musical. The most famous person in this film is actually Game of Thrones’ Paul Kaye, who played Thoros of Myr, and he was a supporting character/villain in the vein of Moulin Rouge. The largely unknown cast was maybe the best move. It is easy to get lost in the story and swept up by the characters’ emotions. I never thought of them as acting. I was completely immersed as if I was watching something unfold in real time. Every actor did a phenomenal job and deserves all the money and accolades, but my unofficial favorite may be Sarah Swire, who gives the best reaction faces.
When I started watching Anna and the Apocalypse, I thought that I could anticipate the trajectory of the story based on the familiar high school characters: the strict vice principal, the hot and smart poor girl, her awkward best friend who clearly has a crush on her, the hot obnoxious guy, the high school activist, the high school sweethearts. The story unwinds in completely unpredictable ways even for a horror, a musical or a comedy. It takes the beats that we expect and flips them just when we think that we understand the rhythm of the story. The perfect blending of genres turns it into a masterpiece of emotion and a universally relatable story even for those who hate teens or any of the aforementioned genres.
Anna and the Apocalypse is equally a solid zombie movie and a decent musical. While these actors may never end up on Broadway, the songs move the story forward as opposed to Glee after the first half of the first season when it was an excuse to showcase their looks, choreography and singing skills, but most of the songs did not seamlessly suit the story at all when there was a story—there were so many episodes where the teacher basically chose a theme based on the musical rights that the series owned, and it devolved from there. There is genuine emotion in the words and the delivery. If they were singers first and actors second, I would buy the soundtrack and play it incessantly. I may still play the movie incessantly since it is streaming on Amazon Prime. It is very traditional in the musical sound, but the actual words resonate powerfully. It also does a great send up on the ridiculousness of Christmas songs oozing in sexuality like Santa Baby. While Ben Wiggins is far from the legendary Tim Curry and has a pitchy voice, he definitely had a Curry like quality.
Anna and the Apocalypse’s horror elements are superb. Shaun of the Dead and the remake of Night of the Living Dead are some of the cinematic inspirations for this film, and it shows, but it never feels like shameless imitation. It is innovative and imaginative in the way that it compares and contrasts teen angst with the horror of real life getting ready to descend on their unsuspecting, young and joyful hearts. It never fails to terrify while genuinely eliciting hearty, nonstop laughs from me. The entire cast seems like normal, average teenagers, and their conversational mash up of pop culture and the annihilating news kept it light and devastating, especially “Turning My Life Around” in a way that was reminiscent, but not imitative of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. There was a real temptation to take a completely nihilistic approach to violence, but the film walks a fine line and never goes over it instead making the violence a joy to watch and have devastating consequences to the characters. The film stresses honest emotion, the absurdity, the trivial and the serious.
I did not anticipate and was genuinely moved when the horror and music of Anna and the Apocalypse began to transition into an elegy. A lot of the film is about suddenly losing someone pivotal and having to move forward only to keep losing loved ones and suddenly having to contemplate your own mortality. The movie genuinely tackles the idea of what to do when your life could end at any moment. Even the most world-weary, cynical teens become driven to selflessly unite other characters with their loved ones because they empathize having lost theirs earlier either through neglect or circumstance. They use violence and a pose of not caring to get through the horror, but are not untouched by it. A zombie movie that truly tackles the realities of death-the suddenness of a friend being taken away from you, losing a parent or the loss of a perfect relationship, not because it was over, but because life ended, elevated the film to a must see, repeat classic. I would recommend that you have a box of tissues nearby and be prepared to ugly cry throughout the second half of the film. No one is safe. Anyone could get it, and it matters. It is not a joke.
I did not discover until after initially watching Anna and the Apocalypse that one of the screenwriters, Ryan McHenry, died, which explains why this movie is so excellent. Everyone making it was simultaneously creating and grieving, and as a viewer, I could feel the loss and recognize its genuineness. The movie is so powerful because everyone is putting their heart in it, and you cannot fake it. Everyone involved in this film is supremely talented, and I am sorry for their loss.
To be able to balance genuine humor and crushing loss is a gift that few possess, but these filmmakers did it with Anna and the Apocalypse. Most people cannot nail one genre as evidenced from the numerous “comedies” that I watch without laughing once, but this film successfully blended two while creating a brilliant meditation on the nature of death and loss. How dare someone compare this masterpiece to La La Land! La La Land could not touch the hem of its garment. Appreciate what you have because it could be taken away in an instant, pandemic or not.
