TAD: MULBERRY STREET Review

"And that is a story that no one can beat,
When I say that I saw it on Mulberry Street."

I have no idea whether writer Nick Damici and director Jim Mickle are fans of Theodore Geisel. Besides sharing the titular street, their surprising little film has the same minimal and overreaching spirit as Dr. Seuss' 1937 story and features an ever escalating series of events told a tone in equal parts glee and serious determination. An infection/zombie flick that sits on the distinctly more serious end of the spectrum of things (if the scale for this growing little subgenre ranges from 28 Days Later to Black Sheep). It is distinctly more than the sum of its parts due to an excellent screenplay that emphasizes character and subtext over gore and action. The infected slowly turn into flesh-hungering were-rats, complete with protruding teeth and body hair, but the effect is produced as much with lighting as with make-up and better for it. The balance here combined with jugging only a limited amount of money marks a pretty impressive debut feature effort.

Mulberry Street opens slowly and deliberately; first with a scenic jog through a New York neighborhood following ex prize fighter Clutch on his daily routine. There is the specter of a young-and-powerful developer whiz, as seen on towering billboards, that in the name of progress and capital wants the local aging tenements bulldozed down to make way for 30 story condos. This billboard jumps right out of the frame, although doesn’t reassert itself into the core of the film until much later. As a resident of one of the aging buildings (which seems to keep the landlord occupied 24/7 with residents problems from electricity to plumbing), Clutch returns to find an eviction notice stapled to the bulletin board courtesy of the same developer that stared down at him during his jog. From there a fair bit of time is spent showing the other residents of the place ranging from the teenager down the stairs whose single mom, Kay, works at the bar across the street. Clutch is apparently somewhat of father-figure to the boy and Kay has a crush on him. There is the gay next door neighbor, Coco, who may or may not be in a relationship with Clutch (photographs and glances hint but never pound the point home). Upstairs a few old guys, at least one of them a World War II veteran, seem to do a good job looking out for one another's needs in a world that has all but forgotten them. Also introduced into the ensemble is Clutch’s daughter who was just discharged from a military hospital after a tour in the Middle East. Healed scars on her face, she’s on her way back to her dad’s place from a train station across town.

Whether it is because of the low budget or not (the phrase shoestring may be being too generous here), the choice to spend a good 20 minutes with the characters prior to introducing the creature feature element allows to get a handle for this confined little world of surrogate family tenets. Indulge me an odd parallel to Superbad (of all films to compare to) as another set in the 21st century, but it is clear in the writing that there is nostalgia for a different time that doesn't really exist in this pure form any more. The basis of these characters (and even the props in their apartments - check out those classic radios) were distilled from folks that writer/star Nick Damici knew growing up. The sets (and exteriors) of the film are Damici’s own apartment. There is a personal film buried in there. The gaggle of neighbors in the building are almost completely cast from Law & Order and CSI bit-actors. They all pull out charming and down-to-earth performances. These characters are the poor and disenfranchised which buck up under their circumstances and likely lead happier lives than the upper crust intent on marginalizing them and knocking down their neighborhood. What a strange (and pleasant) little thing to drop into the middle of a zombie movie.

This being a horror flick, all the rampant construction and redevelopment isn’t just bringing misery to the fine folks here by throwing them out on the ass. It seems a portion of the cities rat population come up with the diggers. The diseased and contagious zombie-creating portion to be specific. Reports of multiple rat bites, including a certain landlord, soon being to turn the victims into (using the parlance of one of the characters) "Rat Zombie Bastards." Like many a film with technical challenges that cannot be solved by throwing money at the problem, Mulberry Street is improved considerably by keeping the creatures in the shadows (the blood and gore moments are limited to quick cuts and the occasional instance of the dreaded shaky-cam) allowing the focus of the film to remain on the characters. The apocalyptic threat could have been anything really, but hey, rats are the new penguin (try following a friendly screening of Ratatouille with Mulberry Street at your next family gathering.)

Obviously, there is a fair bit of social commentary in the background of Mulberry Street, not the least of which is the disaster non-response when the zombie plague reaches urban apocalypse proportions. It is right out of FEMA’s Katrina playbook. Also, that several of the characters in the film are veterans of the various wars in the 20th century, it makes for an interesting comment in how veterans are tossed aside in the name of progress. To add insult to injury, when the price of progress goes sour the vets bear the brunt of it too.

The large scale city-into-chaos elements are handled quite well with a few nicely angled exterior shots, and a lot of TV and radio news reports (shades of another recent disaster flick, Right At Your Door). This approach makes immediate comparisons to George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead which adopted a similar approach, but here is where Mulberry Street differs. In Romero's film the collection of people from various walks of life held up in the farmhouse are a dysfunctional lot. With old-style New York can-do spirit, the inhabitants of this apartment complex have totally got each others back (to use pitch-ster lingo – “it’s a zombie film with a heart!”). If the city is going to throw shit their way, they are going to take in stride (Zombie Rat Bastards and all) and band together as best they can under the circumstances. Take for example, the old guy who lives up stairs, needs an oxygen rig to breath and can barely get around, yet he has more than one talent up his sleeve at a key juncture. For all its duct-tape and fingernails work ethic, things do remain true to a fine Romero tradition (at least his original trilogy of Dead films), you’ll be thinking about it after the credits roll. That there is healthy dose of grim cynicism is the order of the day (and damn straight in any apocalypse flick). There sure as hell won’t be any Cat in the Hat coming to deal with the rodent problem.