American Fable is ambitious, maybe too much so sometimes, but there's an intense pleasure in the boldness of the film's style.
As much as I enjoy "The Walking Dead" on AMC and movies such as "28 Days Later," one of my ongoing complaints about the explosion of the zombie genre is the general mopery and overall predictability of those ever-staggering creatures.
They lurch. They snarl. They sniff the air for the scent of human flesh. They pounce and gnaw. They pound windows and doors, and express frustration when confronted with 10-foot-high cyclone fences. And then they get shot in the head and die.
That's pretty much it. We almost never get inside the rotted mind of the zombie or see things from the zombie point of view. They're forever penned in as the Big Metaphor.
One of the many exhilarating pleasures of "Warm Bodies" is the flipping of that script. This is a bloody fresh twist on the most popular horror genre of this century, with none-too-subtle echoes of a certain star-crossed romance that harks back to a certain bard who placed a certain young Romeo under a certain balcony.