Column:

'Quarantine' follows in the footsteps of point-of-view horror flicks

By Joey Vergara

Published Oct. 17, 2008

The horror genre is by definition very limiting, and it would seem the only place to go after "The Blair Witch Project" is a steady decline with the occasional rise.

"Blair Witch" gave the world of horror movies the handheld camera viewpoint, rampant viral marketing techniques, a new suffocating level of creepy and some lame jokes about the sniffles. Reaching into "The Blair Witch Project"'s pockets is bound to result in cheap imitations. What speaks most about the state of the horror movie industry today is the fact that "Quarantine" is a remake of a Spanish film, "[REC]," made less than a year ago. There's a very strong push to disembowel and reassemble films before they're dry in order to reach new audiences.

"Quarantine" straddles that thin line between imitation and innovation surprisingly well. It's familiar enough to its predecessors to be successful, but it doesn't lack the creativity to break new ground.

"Quarantine" packs on the genre clichés without any reservations, which ultimately both hurts and helps the film. Fresh-faced TV reporter Angela Vidal (Jennifer Carpenter) is working on a late-night feature when the firefighter unit she is shadowing is called to a sufficiently anachronistic apartment building. After casualties accrue, the building is sealed off and everyone inside is left to fend for themselves.

Let's face it: Reality is awkward. "Quarantine" starts off heavy on the awkward with Carpenter's Vidal giddily telling the camera about her childhood dreams of being a firefighter and wantonly flirting with firemen. These introductory 15 minutes set up the film but seem a little more uncomfortable than all the zombies that come later.

As predictable as the plot turns are and as silly as some of the scares become the 10th time around, "Quarantine" makes up for its losses with a refusal to stray far from its initial tension. The documentary style of camerawork is foolproof here. "Cloverfield"'s nauseated people, but here it's a well-used tool for the filmmakers and a frightening viewpoint for the audience. The less distraction in a movie, the better, and with this type of shooting, that's exactly what you get. It's a highly limited perspective with a sassy cameraman for a tour guide.

The zombies (or whatever they are) aren't anything new either. They run like the undead in the "Dawn of the Dead" remake and drool like the rage-infected in "28 Days Later..." The big difference comes with the frighteningly claustrophobic space they occupy within the film.

With such little time for character development, the acting is, for the most part, surprisingly solid. Jay Hernandez and Columbus Short flesh out the reliable fireman and the unhinged cop, respectively, as best they can. Carpenter is alternately a charming reporter and your worst nightmare: a 20-something reduced to an infantile state of screaming and sobbing. The rest of the cast remains mostly stock characters: the aging Russian landlord, a conveniently placed veterinarian, the African couple who speak no English, etc.

Real terror is hard to come by in horror films these days. If that's what drives the push toward "reality TV-esque" or point-of-view films like "Quarantine" and "The Blair Witch Project," the genre is bound to implode soon, but not before a few gems are released.