When it comes to avoiding your impending, violent death, cinematically speaking of course, there are many rules to follow.
Don't speak. (A Quiet Place)
Don't breathe. (um, Don't Breathe)
Don't move. Uh, pretty much everything (all horror, recently-freed T-Rex)
Don't touch. (Contagion? Outbreak?)
Don't...listen? (Pontypool)
Don't place your genitals in/or around someone else's. (It Follows)
Now, we've circled back to Don't look.
Bird Box, surprisingly, doesn't suck - but it sure as shit doesn't warrant its momentary cultural phenomenon status. Debuting on Netflix in December, this Sandra Bullock-led thriller has, like the mysterious plague at its core, somehow captivated a portion of the entire planet. Apparently, no one has seen any of the films mentioned above, because all of those did the relentless death thing first, sure, and damn near all of them did it better.
Don't speak. (A Quiet Place)
Don't breathe. (um, Don't Breathe)
Don't move. Uh, pretty much everything (all horror, recently-freed T-Rex)
Don't touch. (Contagion? Outbreak?)
Don't...listen? (Pontypool)
Don't place your genitals in/or around someone else's. (It Follows)
Now, we've circled back to Don't look.
And every time I watch a movie where it's going to kill you (Don't grow up in Derry, by the way) there's only one rule I'm hoping the film will abide by: Don't suck.
In case the rock you live under doesn't have WiFi, here's what you need to know: some mysterious plague is quickly encompassing the planet, were victims, upon catching it (or being caught by it), kill themselves instantly. Think The Happening, but no one gives a shit about the honey bees.
The hook, outside of the glorious chaos that comes from mass (hysterical?) suicides, is that in the world of Bird Box, one acquires this illness through their eyes. You can make all the noise you want (kind of), inhale and exhale like a champ, and Hell, f--k anything that moves, but you best do all that shit with your eyes closed. Because...if you see it, if you dead. Fine, that doesn't make a lot of sense, but like this flick, just shut the f--k up and go with it.
The hook, outside of the glorious chaos that comes from mass (hysterical?) suicides, is that in the world of Bird Box, one acquires this illness through their eyes. You can make all the noise you want (kind of), inhale and exhale like a champ, and Hell, f--k anything that moves, but you best do all that shit with your eyes closed. Because...if you see it, if you dead. Fine, that doesn't make a lot of sense, but like this flick, just shut the f--k up and go with it.
