I believe that I am once again caught up on my horror movie quota. I mean, The Invasion is in actuality a sci-fi suspense thriller, but once you go longer than two words in a label, people lose interest, and so here we are in the land of miscategorized video shelves. (Except that since people no longer go to video stores, we’re in the land of miscategorized Netflix category links. Except they probably go ahead and categorize movies correctly, being who they are. But I digress.)
Space spores land on earth and jump into someone’s blood stream, re-writing his DNA in such a way that he loses many of the characteristics that we commonly consider human and is driven to reproduce the spores and introduce them into everyone else on the planet, the end result being that strong emotions will be eradicated, and along with them war and atrocities. But also passion, of course; what they’ve got is an infectious version of the Pax. It’s very much a remake of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, lacking only pods and Kevin McCarthy. (Though they did snag a female lookalike to restage his climactic scene from the original film.) Throwing a monkeywrench into the sporified plan is psychiatrist Nicole Kidman, who leads a small group in a quest to save her son, escape from the people who are no longer who they are, and maybe find a way to cure the rising tide of non-humanity. I could make jokes about how practically everyone in the cast is required to either act wooden and unemotional, or else act like they are acting wooden and unemotional for the purposes of fooling the former group. But the jokes pretty well make themselves, so I will not.
It was a perfectly serviceable thriller, making up in car crashes what it lacked in explosions. It was very nearly an excellent example of that perennial science fiction question, “What makes us human?”; it presented humans with all their flaws and their strengths, and it presented an alternative that was disturbingly non-human while at the same time debateably an improvement on the mold. But before I could start to actively consider the question, they cheated and removed it from the table. Coming so close to doing something that right has left me feeling disproportionately disappointed relative to the quality of the rest of the movie. A specific explanation resides below the spoiler cut, for the willing.

[Note: I’m not concerned about spoiling the 1978 movie, because, come on. but I’ve found it impossible to discuss the remake without going in depth, so below the cut, expect heavy spoilers.]
My zombie serial has become a soap opera. (Although in the historically literal meaning of the term, that’s still not true. I can at least still count on the zombies to be rotting, putrid shambles of people who are completely unbathed over the past year of their new existences.)

By right of expectation, this should be a graphic novel review. I’ve been pretty darn faithful about the alternating thing, and such. But then I went on vacation, in which there was a beach, and more importantly, an ocean. Also there were friends and children and laughing and a board game. And also, because I live inside myself so much and it’s worthwhile to reiterate the things that really affect me, on a bone-deep level, there was still an ocean. She had waves and a loud voice, and we had a friendly tussle in which she made sure to show me she could kill me at any moment without a thought, but that was only momentary and to demonstrate who was who; like I said, it was friendly. And just for me, flying in the face of all established knowledge on local weather patterns, she put a storm on the horizon.
I saw