TRIBECA 2018 REVIEWS: Dominique Rocher’s THE NIGHT EATS THE WORLD discovers a new horror about surviving a zombie apocalypse

Just when you thought every possible zombie movie variation has been done, here comes The Night Eats the World to prove us all wrong. Fans who want to see maximum kills and inventive new gore moments need not apply. But anybody fatigued from the same old survivalist tropes where it’s all about running and shooting and figuring out which of the “normal humans” are just as dangerous as the brain-eating undead will be thrilled. There’s a whole new angle to this one, a whole new challenge for our survivor. And that’s not a typo. It’s survivor and definitely not the plural. This isn’t about a pack of gritty refugees in the apocalypse trying to get from one goal to another. The conceit of this movie is way more simple and profoundly more messed up. You see, the main protagonist is facing perhaps one of the worst possible terrors anybody can face: he’s alone. He’s not running out of food, he’s safe as can be. But he’s totally alone. And while the masses of zombies of course pose a threat – and don’t you worry, there’s some great zombie scenes in the film – the true monster is the mind of a human being craving contact and companionship. What this movie is really is about is the slip into madness solitary confinement can lead to. And its pretty damned brilliant.

Anders Danielsen Lie delivers a perfectly balanced performance as the protagonist Sam. Taking a quicker route from the 28 Days Later handbook, the film starts with him at a party in a hip Parisian apartment. He nods off in a locked room late in the evening. And instead of a month-long coma, it’s the very next morning that he awakens to find that the whole world is zombies. After fighting his way through the apartment, Sam successfully locks himself in, protected from the creatures. Methodically, he secures the entire apartment building and collects a nice stash of food, resources and weapons. This doesn’t happen without risk. There’s more than a few scary moments when lingering dead folk give him a run for his money. But once he’s pretty much securely holed up in his Fortress of Solitude – well, what then? He’s all set, right? Dude’s got this. Totally safe and sound.

Except that’s not how the human mind really works. It doesn’t matter how much of an introvert you might be. You need to talk to people. You need to at least hear other voices. Our brains are designed to intake information from our fellow species and impart some in return. Social interaction is the bread and butter of our sanity. And Sam runs out of that the moment he successfully ensures his security. This is a quiet film. This is often a silent film for many long stretches. Even the zombies are quiet. In the movie’s horror rules, the undead do not even vocalize. Yes, they snap their jaws as they get all “bitey” as they say in Shaun of the Dead. But that’s it. The streets are full of zombies, dozens of them, but it may as well be a library out there. And man oh man, that’s what really gets to Sam. Slowly, you start to get it: this poor guy needs a friend. Hell, he could use an enemy. Anybody! Because he’s got nobody to talk to and it’s literally making him crazy.

Without spoiling anything, the real meat of the movie picks up as we see exactly what Sam does in order to cure his terminal isolation. He takes what seems to be some pretty ridiculous risks without the promise of a lot of payoff. He greatly compromises the perfect setup he’s created not only to make a few vain attempts at securing a partner for his boring life, but just to blow off steam. And some of the friends he tries to make will come as an utter surprise. It’s a very smart film that doesn’t overplay its hand at any point. There are times when the audience may question some of Sam’s seemingly less logical choices. But as the context of his dilemma grows, it all becomes very acceptable and even more so, imparts a new dimension of knowledge about what terrors one can find even in complete safety.

None of this would have worked were it not for Anders Danielsen Lie’s handling of Sam and director Dominique Rocher’s patient pacing and masterful build-up. On the horror front, the film delivers the requisite scares, gross outs, sadness and laughs. On the character study front, Lie scratches at the surface with out getting needlessly pretentious. No back story here about unrequited love or lousy parental relationships. In fact, we learn almost nothing about Sam’s life. But we do learn just about everything about Sam that matters. And more crucially, everything about what it does to Sam to lose all those things we all take for granted. The Night Eats the World explores a new dimension in one of the most trod-upon genres of the last 20 years, and finds a genuinely new corner to explore. For this super-jaded horror movie fan, it was a welcome and refreshing experience. And the very final frame of the film rounds out the story’s theme in one very potent image of visual information (quietly, of course). It’s recommended not only for ghoul-loving gore-hounds, but for any audience who enjoys a decent bit of introspective drama. If you go see this one with a friend, make sure you sit apart in the theater. Watching it alone will really help you feel it.