Netflix's '#Alive' Review: A searing portrayal of life in quarantine through the lens of classic zombie movies
Spoilers for Netflix's '#Alive'
Imagine a zombie apocalypse, but also bits and pieces of Black Mirror's 'Bandersnatch' - such is the story of Netflix's latest addition to its slate of zombie horrors and foreign movies, titled '#Alive'. A story of self-restraint and maneuvering that will remind you not all that long ago of your life in quarantine - '#Alive' should just be labeled the sequel of 'Train to Busan' that hardcore fans truly deserved instead of the sequel they got.
From labeling treasured food items as 'the last supper' to wondering when our migrant souls will able to reunite with the feeling of home, the story is a vivid and glaring reminder of the emotions we have collectively been through in the last seven months or so. It's as hilarious as the toilet paper stage of quarantine 2020. But here the infectious virus is one that turns people into zombies. And although it's a genre vividly done and dusted, the story is more of a tribute to classic flicks in the genre and not just another cheap rip-off.
A zombie apocalypse breaks out of nowhere and a young gamer is isolated in the city from his family, who were traveling to see him - the plot of '#Alive' is harrowing with humorous little bursts in a story where gore and violence score high. Reminiscent of films like '28 Days Later' and 'Resident Evil', Oh Joon-woo's story is more than just its extraordinary makeup and visuals, as zombies mercilessly tear each other apart in the process of acquiring their next best living target. He records live vlogs in a darker manner than the millions of TikToks people have created in these months. He records himself as one of the only survivors left in a city plagued by the deadly, cannibalistic virus as news and media continue their showbiz as if it's an episode of 'Real Housewives'.
The plot twists are one that we are way too familiar with to not marvel at the pastel and indie undertones of Oh's life intertwining with Kim Yoo-bin's as they find each other through laser pens at opposite ends of the same condominium complex. It's almost like one of your dating app advertisements these days, with people gushing over each other from the balcony, finding common interests in performing for their neighbors, only here Oh and Kim are buddies in a survival dystopia. The thrill and ride of them finally wading through more than just six feet is not only gripping but also a montage of nods to the Busan nightmare with zombies arriving within the first five minutes of the film. And without beating around the bush at all, the zombies get right to piling up atop one another with red all over just the way the South Korean subgenre is so widely known for.
While hardly original or revolutionary in terms of storytelling, '#Alive' never digresses from being entertaining enough to kill time, speaking volumes for Il Cho's direction, from a script by himself and Matt Naylor. Ah-In Yoo's Oh is the clumsy protagonist you would feel sorry for, and much like Netflix's other genre posterchild 'Daybreak', a kick-ass Park Shin-Hye is his Angelica - the gallant knight in shining armor.
It is perhaps the split-screen portrayals of Oh and Kim's life in this visceral quarantine that speak so highly of both the actors and the cinematic journey wherein Cho exploits every trope of the genre.
'#Alive' is a classic binge night material if living in quarantine hasn't been an experience enough for you. With latent essence taken from classics like 'Shaun of the Dead' as Oh kicks almost-zombie neighbors out of his apartment, and laden with humor in Kim's absolute shock and disbelief as to how Oh has still managed to survive - the story feels real even though in theory it might be not. A lazy afternoon ride along the internet will tell you all about the world wars, the locusts swarms, the tornados, the brutality, and its retaliation, and a whole pandemic that we have lived through in less than half of this year. Let's add zombies to the mix, because why not? It's 2020 vision, after all.