Life After Beth

It might be the latest feature to earn the pithy rom-zom-com tag, following Shaun of the Dead and Warm Bodies; however uncoupling rather than connecting is the true focus of Life After Beth. In his first directorial effort, I Heart Huckabees writer Jeff Baena largely uses the fun rather than the frightening aspects of the zombie conceit to flesh out a story about maturing and moving on. There’s flesh eating, there’s figuring out what’s best in life, and there’s the fury of an undead girlfriend.

Zach (Dane DeHaan, Devil’s Knot) is devastated when Beth (Aubrey Plaza, TV’s Parks and Recreation) succumbs to a snake bite while hiking alone, pining for the happy days of their lost romance. His dreams come true with Beth’s inexplicable back-from-the-dead reappearance, but perhaps Zach should have been more careful with what he wished for. He endeavours to redress past misdeeds through the gift of a second chance at their relationship; however with a blunt temper, penchant for mud-lined attics and an affinity for smooth jazz, the new Beth isn’t quite the girl he once knew and loved.

That Life After Beth starts with the maudlin mourning of Zach proves fitting, as he shares his grief with her parents (Trust Me’s Molly Shannon and Guardians of the Galaxy’s John C. Reilly), earns the disapproval of his own (Suburgatory’s Cheryl Hines and Behind the Candelabra’s Paul Reiser), and argues with his trigger-happy security guard brother (Matthew Gray Gubler, Criminal Minds). The mood of melancholy reverberates through the movie’s musings on just what life is like when the impossible happens, and on its statement on the importance of accepting the other side of misfortune. Baena weaves sweetness and humour into the mix, never losing sight of his bigger picture for most of the film’s bulk. The appearance of a childhood pal (Anna Kendrick, Happy Christmas) offers a glimpse of a different future, as Zach is forced to contemplate the merits of living in the past or the present.

There’s soul but also slightness in Baena’s rendering of his protagonist’s plight; however when the feature succumbs to the usual zombie antics, it fares much less successfully. The laughs become dependent on physical comedy and Plaza’s spirited screwball commitment as her character becomes less human and more monstrous, but the focus on an encroaching potential apocalypse detracts from the film’s thoughtful core. It’s in the small moments, not the broad genre tropes, that Life After Beth does best. In an effort driven by its humanity, not its horror, the constant attempts to insert humour also prove hit and miss, though wry smiles rather than hearty guffaws often eventuate from the tongue-in-cheek affair.

Of course, the concept, comedy and an appropriately calm aesthetic characterised by close framing merely attempt to mask the fact that Life After Beth follows a predicable path – boy loses girl, boy and girl reunite but are thwarted by problems, boy seeks alternative as he ruminates on his existence. DeHaan continues a spate of stellar turns as the figure caught in the middle of the emotional and undead mayhem, more than aptly straddling the line between the comic and dramatic in a deft display of the film’s tenderness, but his convincing presence can’t completely overcome the uneven material. Accordingly, Baena’s film smacks of ambitious efforts come undone by pandering to the conventional. This is a romantic zombie comedy with servings of brains and plenty of heart, yet becomes another serving of the standard instead of the special.