Pontypool (Bruce McDonald, 2008)

The zombie genre will keep on marching on, oblivious to having all but the most rudimentary nerve functions shot away. So, Canada this time and the signs are ominous with a radio station in a small town in the dead of winter and gradually worsening reports coming in of mayhem somewhere outside.
Here's where the twist comes in: not only do you start to fathom that we're not to be getting the battles with the plastiqued undead, but that the makers are actually trying to put a new spin on necrotic origins: language itself has become the means of infection.
All credit then to McDonald for trying; there's a nice sense of besiegement built up and rather oddly for a long while it works as a documentary on the workings of  two-bit radio stations, whilst also playing on the fantasy that English as a language has become terminally diseased. It does of course, having painted itself into a corner with its single-set and single novelty proposition, then hit a dead end and never resolves what it has set out on. There's a baton to be passed on to the next zombie theme milker, nevertheless.

6/10