Zombies are HUGE. Once a
quiet group, shuffling along in the shadows in search of brain food
(fish?), zombies have clawed their way out of their graves and
shambled into the spotlight of Tinseltown. You've got your zombie
movies, zombie sequels, zombie tv shows, zombie tv show spinoffs,
zombie talk shows and even zombie walks. Zombies have eclipsed
vampires as the most popular creatures in the underworld—living,
dead or undead.
The last time I wrote about
mainstream horror films was a story for the Prague Post about the
production of (yet) another vampire movie—in this case, Van
Helsing, shot in Prague's Barrandov Studios. Being a photographer,
my shutter finger twitched nervously through the entire tour of the
set. I was not allowed to photograph ANYTHING, which for a
photographer-slash-movie-slash-slasher-film-fan-slash-writer, was
like a kick in the netherworld. Needless to say, there was nothing
top secret to spill: the vampires sucked the blood, the Helsing
staked the hearts. During my research I discovered that over 700
vampire films had been made since the days of the first film, making
vampires the single most popular monsters in film. Ever. And one of
those first films was Nosferatu, a German film made before there was
even a modern Germany (it was credited as The Weimar Republic back
then).
700 films and 100 years
later, people grew tired of all the blood sucking and wanted some
good old-fashioned brain munching instead (I think the vampire death
knell was the production of sparkly-skinned teen vampire movies). I
have the good fortune of being good friends with the originators of
the
first public zombie walk, which occurred on the streets of my
hometown of Sacramento, California in 2001. My good friends at
Trash Film Orgy gave me my first taste of zombography, and I've been doing
it every time I get a chance. I've photographed zombie walks in
Sacramento, Berlin and (for the hat trick) Prague.
If you've got zombie walks,
then eventually you're going to get a zombie run. Enter: the Prague
5k Zombie Run on October 31, 2015. While Halloween is not a
traditional holiday west of the UK, the organizers of the event must
have been hip to all those Halloween movies and the general
spookiness of that date. What is a zombie run? Zombies shuffle,
right? You can outrun them in a wheelchair, right? Well, as the
vampire character developed, so did zombies. Starting with the
28 Days Later film franchise, these rotting dudes could RUN YOU DOWN.
They were seriously brain starved and made no bones about it. So on
that special spooky day last autumn, I climbed Vitkov Hill to check
out the action.
Vitkov Hill separates the
districts of Karlin and Žižkov in Prague. From the spearhead of
the hill, the third largest equestrian statue in the world gazes over
a killer view of Prague from 180 degrees. Mounted upon this giant
steed is the one-eyed General Jan Žižka, Protestant Hussite warrior
and generous giver of his name to the working class quarter of Žižkov
below. Just behind the tremendous haunches of the horse lies a massive mausoleum full of dead commies. When it is not being just another soviet eyesore, the venue hosts art exhibitions and other cultural events. On All Hallows Eve, Mr Ž was all about the Zs. A 5 km
route circled the hill and joggers—some of them dressed as
zombies—ran the course. For the joggers not dressed like zombies,
special squads of hidden zombies jumped out of the bushes and
terrorized them.
Czechs can really get into
the zombie motif. In addition to the various stages of gore makeup,
shredded clothing and decomposition, these Zs ate sausage links
soaked in ketchup—pulled from the bellies of fallen joggers. In
grand Czech tradition, they even washed their meal down with
delicious Czech beer. After the brain buffet, the full zombies sat
around drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. As Czech zombies do.
Buddhas are everything and everywhere here. Back-lights and colored statues accentuated the mood of the evening, but what intrigues me most about my event gigs are the odd details. In a New Age/East-West modern cafe like this, one would expect maybe a massage or an exotic tea/elixir as a welcome. Instead, a caricature artist plunked his easel down and started drawing guests. Bushy beards grew to monstrous proportions and shy ladies with giant eyes peered out of his blank canvas.
Many of the familiar faces from the last Forum I covered
were present in 
There’s probably not a Year of the Panda in the Chinese
calendar, but maybe there should be. A
panda is much more lovable than a rat or a snake. Plus, a rat passing out toys and Chinese gifts
on the streets of 
