Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zombies. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Les Revenants and the Christian Imagination

by Charity Erickson 

The French show Les Revenants (translated as “The Returned”) appeared on the Sundance Channel at the end of 2013 to much acclaim. It was billed as a more distinguished kind of zombie show, The Walking Dead for the discerning television viewer. Though, as many critics have since pointed out, this is a mischaracterization. A revenant is something wholly different from a zombie. A revenant is a reanimated corpse; one who retains the appearance, memory, and mind of a fully-human being who once was dead, and now is not. Revenant—it’s a beautiful word. (Just say it aloud: “revenant.” There is almost a sacred sound to it, don’t you think? Now say “zombie.” Doesn’t it sound terribly un-Christian?)

There is a quiet and awe-full beauty to The Returned that is perfectly expressed in the word “revenant,” and since my spell-check is recognizing the word, I shall keep using it. The eight-episode series follows the return of several long-deceased individuals to a village in the French countryside and the disturbing supernatural manifestations that begin to haunt the town following their appearance. What fascinates me about the show is how it borrows from Christian tradition, taking inspiration from the more strange details of the resurrection narrative. 

The revenants in The Returned recall Matthew 27:52-3’s nonchalant aside about dead folks appearing in Jerusalem; further, they display characteristics of Christ’s resurrected body, his appearance in some kind of alternative visage, unrecognizable to those who knew him best (John 20:15, Luke 24:16); they also (quite unlike zombies) manifest Christ’s ability to instantly transport himself through space (multiple examples in John 20, Luke 24). The show also makes explicit reference to apocalypse lore, which posits that at the “End Times” revenants will rise (as some Christians infer from Isaiah 26:19).

The bizarre details offered in scripture are tantalizing to the imagination: What is the nature of a resurrected body? On The Returned, the revenants are bound by their physicality in some ways, while in other ways, they transcend (or lack?) normal human functioning. They possess ravenous hunger, and yet, they are unsatisfied by food and unaffected by hard drink; they rarely sleep; some can teleport, yet they cannot manage to escape the general geographical location where they died; they display miraculous healing capabilities, yet their flesh begins to decompose. They all hope to return to the lives they were living before they died, yet they are told they must have some kind of supernatural mission—from God, even; why else and by what other power would they have been called out from their graves?

The Returned creates its own theology of the revenant, using the return of the dead as an opportunity to explore themes of grief and coping, how faith can provide solace in the midst of devastating loss, and how faith can make loss all the more wrenching; it considers memory and the body; and it looks at the nature of love, how it can be pure and beautiful while simultaneously being a kind of sickness, both magical connection and destructive codependence. Typically, such “prophetic imagination” is lacking in the Christian’s approach to the texts about revenants in scripture, and there is often a dearth of the deep meditation we find here on the themes at which they hint. We do not feel free to let our imaginations run wild, even when considering the bizarre, inexplicable passages of the Bible. We are so obsessed with figuring out what “really” happened that we miss the opportunity to seek out truth and beauty.

And I’m not talking about those who create stories about how the dinosaurs got on the ark or who try to explain the physics behind the sun standing still—to my mind, these are Christian science fictions if there ever were any—rather, I am referring to those of us who already reject staunch biblical literalism, who (as a friend recently mentioned to me) can get so caught up in parsing genres and contexts and syntax that we cease to regard scripture as a wild, living Word. If our search for the truth in scripture turns into merely an alternate form of artless literalism, we will miss out on the richness it has to offer. No matter what your view of how scripture is inspired, it can still be an inspiration, a means for unbinding the imagination. And I think that is a holy thing.

Not that we need to relinquish thoughtful study, or seek out ‘secret knowledge’ in the text. But viewing The Returned has reminded me of how intensely edifying it can be to take even our careful study of scripture and let our imaginations go feral with it, unfettered in the moment by the strictures of correct theologies, moralities or spiritual analogies. We might be surprised what comes out of the exercise.

The Returned is uninterested in being “Christian” (as my husband described it to someone at church, it is “stereotypically French” and could perhaps offend, shall we say, one’s more puritanical sensibilities) but as a meditation on resurrection, it still has much to offer the Christian mind. For those looking for renewal in their pursuit of the “prophetic imagination,” this show will give you much to think about, and is definitely worth seeking out.

Charity Erickson and her husband live and work together in the north woods of Minnesota. Check out her blog for more of her writing and follow her on Twitter @CharityJill.

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Friday, March 1, 2013

Community and Nostalgic Zombies



I will remember you *da da da dada*
Will you remember me?

by Ben Howard

I loved the show Community. Yes, that sentence is in the past tense.

For the duration of its first three seasons, Community was one of my favorite shows on TV. Not only was it a absurdist meta-comedy which commented continuously on the very sitcom conceits it was enacting, but it also showcased a level of heart and depth that very few shows attempt to achieve. A lot of people focus on the jokes, or the concept episodes, but I loved Community because of the way it explored neuroses, and loneliness, and, well, community.

It mined dark areas of life and found comedy, camaraderie and warmth in the midst of real pain.

The show has never had good ratings and has always been on the verge of cancellation, but it was still a surprise when the creator, show runner and creative force behind Community, Dan Harmon, was fired after the third season.  Harmon was notoriously irascible and difficult to deal with. His borderline dysfunctional personality made him a headache for the network, but it also fed the creative energy that made the show what it was.

Harmon was replaced by two veteran TV writers, but when the show came back for a fourth season a few weeks ago, it was evident that they had not been able to recapture the magic of Harmon’s Community.

Zombie Troy
I will continue to watch Zombie Community, but it will be with a tinge of sadness. That’s the way these lightning in a bottle moments go. When you’re in the midst of it, it feels like it will never end.

I don’t want to bemoan the shift from Harmon Community to Zombie Community too much. I mean, it is only a sitcom after all, but I think it highlights something important in the realm of Christian memory.

The happy feelings I have about Harmon’s version of community exist in as memories, while the frustrated feelings I have about Zombie Community are fostered by a sense of nostalgia. I’m frustrated by Zombie Community because it not only reminds me of something I miss, but it makes me want to return to a past that I can no longer access.

Christians face this problem all the time. We remember the greatness of our past and in our hunger for a better present we try to imitate the greatness that has come before us, but that imitation of the past leaves us empty because it calls us to create a world that no longer exists.

I grew up in a faith tradition that constantly referenced the first century church as a model for life. When questions of church practice were asked, one of the first places they’d look would be the practice of the first century church. The problem with this should be self-evident: the tradition in question exists in the 21st century which is, quite clearly, not the same as the first century.

The resulting community looks like a Zombie First Century Church, which leaves most people frustrated and nostalgic.

Boldly going we're no church has gone before
I understand the appeal of the past. When we look to the past we look to things that we know worked, we remember things we know we enjoyed, we see things that we know were beautiful, but it is impossible to remake the past. It is impossible to recapture the lightning we once had.

Christians are not called to remake the past and tilt at nostalgic windmills of a bygone era; we are called to live into the future. Living into the future requires imagination and creativity. It requires us to wrestle with things we do not understand. It requires us to be vulnerable to questions we have not yet asked.

It requires us to learn to love the past and remember it fondly, to be inspired by the things that came before, but to make something new. It requires us to be more than zombies.

Peace,
Ben 

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Monday, August 20, 2012

The Upside of the Zombie Apocalypse

on pop theology, philosophy, theology, culture, pop culture, christianityby Josh Kiel

Last night upon coming home, I underwent my regular pre-sleep routine. I got into bed and woke up this morning exactly as I had expected. I had the same thoughts that I have every Sunday night. I was subconsciously preparing myself for Monday morning and the start of another work week. I spent some time running a mental checklist of all the issues that were going on and who I would need to call, the bills I had to pay, the errands and domestic tasks I needed to perform. 

It was routine, bland, unexciting, and boring; the essence of the mundane. Tomorrow would be there and I had to plan for it, there was no reason to expect that it wouldn't be.

Believe me, it is as boring writing about my nighttime routine as it is reading about it, so let's switch it up a little. Instead let's imagine that same scenario with the one minor change. Imagine that I had spent my entire day eluding hordes of zombies and was now holed up in my apartment with the possibility of 50 or 500 busting down the door to devour my delicious person.  

I know what you're thinking: now we're talking. One of the given plot points in many post-apocalyptic movies is this radical shift of priorities that people would need to deal with. In this specific situation, tomorrow is no longer a given, even living another hour is not a given. The needs of everyone would be limited to the very day that we are living. 

This could be demonstrated through any post-apocalyptic scenario, but I chose zombies for two reasons: 1) You write what you know and 2) Living to see tomorrow is the implicit goal of the characters in zombie films such as the beloved Shaun of the Dead. 

In that film the characters lives are interrupted when they encounter the reanimated dead. This is particularly demonstrated in two scenes in which Shaun makes a nearly identical trip to the local market oblivious to the differences in his environment pre and post zombies. Throughout his journey on both days he is oblivious to the world around him and caught up in his own thoughts. It takes his eventual realization of the zombie apocalypse to motivate him to get a plan together to face just one day and dismiss, for the most part, his worries about the future. 

Instantaneously, his priorities shift to where he is no longer worried about anything except surviving through the night until morning. Shaun's long term concerns and anxieties disappear because his immediate situation is dire enough to prevent any worry about the future.

In a weird way, I desire the sort of freedom that this scenario would represent. In the midst of the zombie apocalypse all of my aforementioned worries are moot. My concerns are limited to not becoming dinner for a flesh-hungry corpse, it's a simple goal with clearly defined success or failure.  

In that scenario I have no worries about whether I'm contributing enough to my 401k, political concerns, whether I'm making enough progress towards my end of year work goals, or any other of the dozens of long term goals that continually crop up in my mind and cause me to worry through the normal course of any given day. 

In essence the dead rising would give me the freedom to worry only about today. To live my life with reaching tomorrow as a goal instead of a given.
It is no longer an accomplishment to live until tomorrow. We expect it, we plan for it, we worry about it, and at times it is to our own detriment. We've all heard warnings about the dozens or hundreds of ways that we could die every day, but we still accept blindly that tomorrow will be there for us and we need to prepare for it. 
Did you get a sunburn lately, better watch out for skin cancer. Driving a car today? Wear your seatbelt and hope you don't encounter a drunk/drowsy/distracted driver. Gunmen, terrorists, West Nile, AIDS, and dozens of other "threats" that we're made aware of by the media are lurking and threatening to take away our precious lives. With all of the ways that we know we could die I'm surprised we don't wake up in the morning half in-awe as we exclaim, "YES, I MADE IT!!".

If the constant reminder of my own mortality doesn't make me enjoy each day as it comes would it really take the dead rising from the grave to make me stop worrying about tomorrow and just face today? Yeah, I suppose it would.  
But that's already happened. Christ directed us to not worry about what tomorrow may bring because each day has enough of its own trouble. We need only pray that we be given our daily bread because anything beyond that is speculation on our part. 
This is my interpretation, but I see that as a call to view tomorrow not as a burden, but as a goal. That we can rejoice in every day we're given and face them one at a time. Technically yes, it took someone rising from the grave for me to see that and so much more. Now that it's done though I need only oblige each day as it comes.

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Christian Books...and Zombies


on pop theology, philosophy, theology, culture, pop culture, christianity Note: Special thanks to James K.A. Smith and his twitter feed (@james_ka_smith) for inspiration and some awesome zombie book names.

by Ben Howard

In an attempt to increase Christian book sales, the following titles will be re-released this fall with one small addition.  Zombies.  Hordes of 'em.


Chicken Soup for the Zombie Soul – A delightful book of quips and stories to warm your undead heart. Includes all your zombie favorites from Simon Pegg (Shaun of the Dead) to Robert Kirkman (The Walking Dead) to the guy who directed Thriller. Foreward by George Romero.

Purpose Driven Zombies – What on earth am I here for other than to eat brains, delicious brains. (@bobby_griffith)

Irresistible Zombie Revolution – Learning to live the simple life is a lot simpler when you have a single-minded thought process.

The Five Zombies You'll Meet in Heaven – Jesus is probably one of them, right? (co-blogger Jonathan Harrison)

Zombie Love Wins – It doesn't matter if there's a hell if we can love each other as the undead. (@likemindead)

Left Behind...With Zombies – I haven't read this series. It's totally possible that there are zombies in these books. I doubt Tim LaHaye reads this blog. (@MattCapps)

Blue Like Zombies – A man comes to terms with his faith, his faults, all amidst the backdrop of the zombie apocalypse. Since, it's based in the Pacific Northwest, I feel like this is vampire territory. The Cullen family needs to show these zombies what's up. (@tall_mp)

Mere Zombies – The most influential book for the thoughtful modern zombie. Also, pick up Zombie Letters, a fictional account of the letters between a zombie and his apprentice. (@MichaelRWear)

Sinners in the Hand of an Angry Zombie – This sermons sounds so much cooler with an Angry Zombie instead of an Angry God. Jonathan Edwards would have written some great horror movies. (@zhoag)

Zombie Discipleship – To be a good zombie comes at a price, a painful price, one's very life...because of the whole undead thing. (my friend Hannah Sigmon)

How (Not) to Speak of Zombies – When we reject the zombies, the zombies surround us and become us, but when we learn to accept the zombies as the other, then they no longer know where to find us.

Gospel of the Living Dead – This is an actual book. Looks cool. http://www.amazon.com/dp/1932792651/ref=cm_sw_su_dp

Peace,
Ben

When he isn't writing about fictional zombie-based books, Ben spends his time training to become an Olympic medalist in competitive floating. Crossing his fingers for Baku in 2020. You can follow his training regimen on Twitter @BenHoward87.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

God and the (Zombie) Apocalypse

on pop theology, philosophy, theology, culture, pop culture, christianityAnother guest post, this time from my former college roommate Ian McLoud on The Walking Dead.  There are a few season two spoilers in this post, so be warned if you plan on catching up and care about that sort of thing.

Peace,
Ben
-----------------
by Ian McLoud

It’s a common Christian stereotype that we love to bemoan the failure of Hollywood to truly understand “the Christian life”.  We're typically represented as either self-righteous hypocrites or crazy, Bible-thumping rednecks (or a cringe-worthy combination of the two).  As Christians, we would love to say that we're not like that; that these portrayals are caricatures and do not exemplify what real Christians are like. Some of us would like to look back with fondness on the late 90’s and early 2000's and find the glory days of Christian television shows like 7th Heaven, Touched by an Angel, and Promised Land.  Of course we’d also like to forget that these cookie-cutter love fests are simply positive caricatures and seldom seem like anything that we might experience in real life.  And these are just exceptions to the rule; television at large ignores God unless a major catastrophe happens and then, once all is well, it's back to fundamentalist hyperbole if not outright disappearance.

So it comes as a quite refreshing surprise when a TV show does get something right regarding the Christian experience, even if it's just one aspect and even if that one aspect is not particularly flattering. Beware spoilers.

I just started watching season 2 of The Walking Dead.  After the first six episodes, I’ve been struck by the addition of a few characters belief in God.  However, this belief has only manifested itself in situations where something has gone wrong.  Now by “go wrong” I mean a daughter has gone missing or a son has been shot and may possibly die.  Somehow, the whole dead walking thing and the potential end of the human race don't warrant a talk with the Big Guy, but that’s neither here nor there.  

In watching this character development I was struck by how accurate a picture this has actually captured of the Christian life. For the most part we only go to God when things are tough and when those things impact us in a way that is different from the norm.  At this point in the show the dead walking is a point of fact, but still children should not be lost nor should they be dying and in the face of these tragedies God needs to come in and help.  These characters are surrounded on all sides by situations that would send most anyone to their knees, yet it's only when the attacks get personal and extra messy that they realize prayer might be beneficial.  Say what you want about the television industry, but they get a few things right every now and then. We'd just prefer they stick to a wholesome Camden family dinner instead of shining a light on our faults and asking us to try fixing them.