When you think of zombie films, what’s the first one that comes to mind? Dawn of the Dead? 28 Days Later? Train to Busan? Those are all great picks, and I would not fault you for any of those. For me, it’s Tony Burgess’s Pontypool. I’ve read the novel. I’ve read the stage play. I’ve watched the film multiple times. Pontypool is one of the most inventive and original takes on zombies. I was ecstatic when I found out one of my all-time favorite writers had his newest film playing at Panic Fest. To boot, my favorite writer is tackling one of my favorite conspiracy theories? Hell yes.
Family patriarch Hollis (Tony Burgess) calls his kids and their spouses up to his luxurious wooded property to reveal the plan for his whiskey company’s final whiskey. Where the whiskey came from is dubious and surely won’t come back to bite them in the ass. The story is told through Mr. Denbok (Justin Bott), Hollis’s crisis manager, as he tries to navigate through each story of those who survived that fateful night. Say what you will about his new whiskey, but you can’t say it isn’t full-bodied.
Where to start with The Hyperborean. Firstly, this film marks the fifth collaboration between director Jesse Thomas Cook and writer Tony Burgess. It’s clear they have formed an artistic connection, and Cook, besides Pontypool director Bruce McDonald, understands the intricacies of a Burgess script. The Hyperborean plays like if Quentin Dupieux directed Knives Out and if Benoit Blanc was inspired by Admiral Byrd. Cook takes Burgess’s extravagantly weird ideas and makes them palatable and understandable for regular audiences while finding ways to subtly nod at those who dare to look deeper into the abyss.
Does The Hyperborean make sense? Yes, but in a Tony Burgess way. Tony Burgess is a divisive writer. His style is frustrating in the most impressive way possible. The way he can elicit emotion from his characters in the strangest ways is impressive and deserves to be studied. The film becomes fully realized from the incredible performances. Cook was able to direct this ragtag group of nepo babies in a way that doesn’t feel forced in any way. Some of the sentences, bits, and gags should not work one bit. But there’s something about the world Burgess creates that makes it all feel acceptable and natural.
Also, Tony Burgess plays Hollis, and it’s honestly a sight to behold. From his initial scene of cup therapy, to when he tries and talk to a scientist in a pre-recorded video, it’s pure gold. Burgess chews up the scenery every chance he gets, and leaves no scraps. Some say, if you say Tony Burgess four times in the mirror at night he’ll show up behind you and whisper, “Kill means kiss,” in your ear.
When the reveal and the horror arrives, it’s almost unfortunate. On the surface, the film is enjoyable when it exists just as a dysfunctional family dramedy. It gets to the point where you love to hate (or vice versa) this family so much that when the horror kicks off, you genuinely don’t want anything bad to happen to them. Fret not; the film stays comedically relevant through the entire runtime, but Burgess takes the time to build up to a grand reveal. Horror comedies often find themselves in a predicament where they have to earn the horror. And if the writer cannot craft perfect scenarios to justify and make audiences accept the horror, then it’s pointless. Burgess earns every bit of horror that comes our way, whether the audience accepts it or not.
The Hyperborean was unquestionably my favorite film from Panic Fest. It’s full of heart, comedy, horror, and Hyperboreans. You would think revealing the film’s big twist in the title would work against it; instead, it keeps you on the edge of your seat and makes you question how Burgess can even make that turn into horror. If you liked the mixture of comedic musings and existential dread prevalent in Pontypool, then you’re going to be in good hands with The Hyperborean.
