Pontypool will be my hardest review because I feel in order to fully enjoy Pontypool you must know very little about it. Netflix’s new service chose this title for me after it failed 5 times to discover a movie that I was in the mood for. I had never heard of it. Its synopsis told me nothing. This would be the movie that I would turn off after I finished my lunch.
Ninety six minutes later I was feeling entertained and refreshed. Pontypool manages to approach a common genre from a level of intensity that few other modern movies can achieve. It never apologizes for its mood or style, and it shouldn’t. It strips away all the things I hate in horror and leaves me with what I need.
Could it have been scarier? Oh, yes…without a doubt. The movie makes a transition from unnerving to amusing with you hardly realizing it. Stephen McHattie as radio dj, Grant Mazzy, is a navigating force throughout the movie. His strangeness is all too real as the events unfold. Yet, he keeps things light when they get too heavy and carries the weight of the horror faced.
Pontypool is that bizarre gem that tells you only what you need to know and shows you only what you need to see. I refrain from sharing the plot, the setting, or any scene specifics. It’s just not right to do so. If you’re looking for typical suspense/horror, then I suggest you pass on this.
If you love getting lost in characters, story, and psychological terror, “Pontypool” is the word.
Great. Now I have the Grease musical stuck in my head…duck…duckk…stuck head…my…head. No!…duck head…duck…duck…