Friday night at Days of the Dead didn’t have quite the after party Russ and I hoped for. That wasn’t shocking since Saturdays tend to be when convention festivities kick off and it certainly wasn’t everyone else’s fault that we were only staying over on Friday. After we ate dinner the convention rooms closed but Days offered activities in the hotel lounge which included a monster burlesque show.
A lot of folks in the horror world have been buzzing about the latest big screen zombie opus, World War Z. The film is based on a book written in 2006 by Max Brooks and is notable for starring aging heartthrob, Brad Pitt. Despite initially an interesting trailer, there’d been disheartening tales regarding production problems and reports that the story basically was being developed as they filmed. Not a good sign. Still, it was a zombie movie and I was compelled to check it out.
It was after 8pm when I walked out of Horrorhound Weekend’s main convention hall during its opening Friday night. While maneuvering past the immense line of patrons (still looking to gain access) I walked across the street to The Crown Plaza hoping to catch a screening of The Profane Exhibit. It’s a new Italian film written and directed by Ruggero Deodato whom I’d met a couple of years back in Massachusetts. As the previous film was still playing, I took a seat in a comfy, lounge chair located outside the room. I was in the process of checking my phone messages when I heard a familiar voice call, “Hey Dave!”
It was Friday night and I headed up to Schaumburg, Illinois for Chicago’s first Days of the Dead convention. I’d been to the first of these events last year in Indianapolis but there’s been several more since. It’s always a good sign when you see many of the same ghoulish faces return again, indicative of satisfied fans. That works out well for me because I personally feel that the fans often make the event. Their costumes add something extra by highlighting their zeal while providing lots of great photo ops for less bold conventioneers.
The silence of a crisp October night is rattled by the sounds of marching soldiers as military personnel survey the bedlam. The town’s once idyllic streets are now strewn with wrecked vehicles, scattered debris, and even rotting corpses. As you move further down the road (your brain trying to process what your eyes can’t possibly be witnessing) you observe terrified locals scurrying in panic followed by yet another group of terrestrials; this second wave decisively less agile than the first. Moments later, as they amble their way into view, you realize that these really aren’t people at all…
At least not anymore.
It isn’t long before you notice the visible wafts of mist (created by your own erratic breathing in the cold night air) has increased; your heart pumping in tandem. This is a natural physical response when one discovers that they are in a decidedly unnatural situation. By then, of course, it’s too late.
Terror from Beyond the Dave 