Red vs. Dead: The Absurd Gore Symphony of Dead Snow 2

In a world overrun by undead Nazis, one man with a chainsaw arm turns the tide of zombie Armageddon into a blood-soaked ballet of hilarity and horror.

 

Norway’s frozen landscapes have birthed some of the most audacious entries in the zombie genre, but none quite match the unhinged exuberance of Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead. This 2014 sequel takes the Nazi zombie premise of its predecessor and inflates it to operatic proportions, blending extreme practical effects with broad comedy to create a film that defies conventional horror boundaries. Directed by Tommy Wirkola, it transforms snowy isolation into a playground for grotesque set pieces, proving that laughter and revulsion can coexist in perfect, arterial harmony.

 

  • The film’s escalation of gore through innovative practical effects elevates it beyond typical zombie fare, making every dismemberment a visual feast.
  • Its self-aware humour skewers Nazi zombie tropes while delivering fresh absurdity, cementing its status as a horror comedy pinnacle.
  • Through character-driven chaos and historical nods, it explores themes of revenge, camaraderie, and the ridiculousness of evil in a uniquely Norwegian lens.

 

The Bloody Resurrection: From Cabin Carnage to National Nightmare

The narrative picks up mere moments after the first film’s climax, thrusting survivor Martin into an ambulance where his severed arm becomes the unlikely catalyst for renewed horror. Accused of murdering his friends, Martin escapes only to confront the reanimated Nazi battalion led by the monstrous zombie general Herzog. This time, the undead horde swells to army proportions, equipped with tanks and historical malice, turning the isolated cabin massacre into a full-scale invasion of a small Norwegian town. Wirkola crafts a plot that spirals into escalating absurdity: Martin acquires a prosthetic chainsaw arm grafted directly to his stump, courtesy of a bumbling surgeon, symbolising his transformation from hapless victim to reluctant hero.

Key characters flesh out this mayhem with distinct personalities primed for comic exploitation. The Zombie Hunters, a quartet of American enthusiasts led by the eccentric “Uncle Homer” (Martin Starr), arrive with vintage Nazi-killing paraphernalia, providing exposition through gleeful fanaticism. Local ally Gerd (Mons Ivar), a memorabilia-obsessed blonde, uncovers the zombies’ occult origins tied to World War II atrocities. Even peripheral figures, like the film’s array of expendable civilians, meet fates that blend slapstick timing with visceral splatter, ensuring no moment drags amid the frenzy.

Production history reveals a film born from triumph and turmoil. After Dead Snow‘s cult success, Wirkola secured bigger funding but faced censorship battles over its gore quotient. Shot in Romania’s Carpathians for snowy authenticity, the sequel doubles down on practical stunts, with actors enduring freezing conditions to capture authentic panic. Legends of Nazi gold and occult rituals, drawn from Scandinavian folklore twisted with WWII history, underpin the mythos, echoing real expeditions for hidden treasures in Norway’s mountains during the war.

Guts and Gears: Mastering Practical Effects in a CGI Age

At the heart of Dead Snow 2‘s appeal lies its unapologetic embrace of practical effects, a deliberate rebuke to digital shortcuts. The chainsaw arm sequences stand out, engineered by Howard Berger’s KNB EFX Group, where prosthetic limbs explode in synchronised sprays of blood and tissue. One pivotal scene sees Martin bisecting zombies mid-charge, the choreography blending ballet-like precision with gallons of fake blood, creating a rhythmic symphony of carnage that feels tactile and immediate.

Herzog’s undead visage, a hulking mass of decayed flesh puppeteered with intricate mechanics, dominates confrontations. Effects supervisor Börkur Gunnarsson detailed in interviews how they moulded over 200 zombie prosthetics, each layered for progressive decay stages, allowing for dynamic kills that evolve from limb severance to torso evisceration. The tank battle finale pushes boundaries further, with pyrotechnics and animatronics simulating explosive dismemberments, all captured in single takes to preserve momentum.

This commitment extends to environmental gore: snowfields turn crimson rivers, interiors become charnel houses slick with entrails. Cinematographer Mathew Jonsson employs wide lenses to showcase the scale, contrasting intimate close-ups of squirting arteries against panoramic zombie waves. Such techniques not only heighten immersion but critique modern horror’s reliance on greenscreen, reaffirming analogue horror’s raw power.

Influence ripples through subsequent gore comedies, inspiring films like ABC’s of Death 2 segments with similar excess. Yet Dead Snow 2 distinguishes itself by wedding effects to narrative purpose, each splatter punctuating character growth or plot revelation.

Slapstick Splatter: The Art of Horror Comedy Fusion

Wirkola’s script revels in subverting expectations, launching gags from horror conventions. Martin’s chainsaw arm malfunctions comically during tense moments, severing innocent limbs before heroic saves, mirroring classic physical comedy like Buster Keaton amid apocalypse. The Zombie Hunters’ arsenal – historical weapons with ridiculous names – fuels montages of failed attempts turning triumphant, their enthusiasm clashing hilariously with Martin’s deadpan resignation.

Gender dynamics add layers: Gerd’s transformation from quirky sidekick to badass operative flips damsel tropes, her tank-driving rampage a cathartic high point. Uncle Homer’s monologues on Nazi memorabilia blend nerdy exposition with absurd tangents, humanising the group while lampooning fan culture. Performances amplify this: Vegar Hoel’s Martin evolves from trauma-shattered everyman to chainsaw-wielding saviour, his subtle expressions conveying weary heroism amid escalating lunacy.

Class politics subtly underscore the humour, pitting working-class Norwegians against aristocratic undead invaders, their gold-hoarding backstory a jab at wartime exploitation. Sound design enhances comedy through exaggerated squelches and cartoonish impacts, layered over a metal-infused score that shifts from ominous drones to punk riffs during kills.

Nazi Nightmares: Historical Satire and Genre Legacy

The film engages WWII history through exaggerated lenses, portraying Nazis as bumbling yet relentless foes whose occult resurrection ritual nods to real esoteric obsessions like those of Himmler’s Ahnenerbe. This satirises zombie subgenre staples from Shock Waves to Outpost, but injects Norwegian specificity: the zombies’ invasion evokes wartime occupation memories, turning national trauma into triumphant farce.

Revenge arcs dominate thematically, Martin’s quest mirroring broader catharsis against fascism. Psychological depth emerges in his PTSD flashbacks, interwoven with humour to avoid preachiness, culminating in a ritual reversal demanding personal sacrifice. Such balance elevates the comedy, making ideological barbs land amid laughter.

Legacy endures in festival circuits and home video cults, spawning merchandise like replica chainsaw arms and influencing global zombie parodies. Its box office success in Norway underscored domestic appetite for self-mocking horror, paving paths for Nordic genre exports.

Behind the Blood: Production Perils and Creative Triumphs

Filming endured harsh Romanian winters, with cast hypothermia incidents adding authentic grit. Budget hikes enabled ambitious set pieces, yet Wirkola maintained hands-on direction, storyboarding every gore beat. Censorship woes in the UK and US necessitated alternate cuts, sparking debates on gore’s artistic merit.

Cast chemistry shone through improv sessions, birthing ad-libs like Homer’s rants. Post-production refined the tone, ensuring comedy never undercut horror’s visceral punch.

Director in the Spotlight

Tommy Wirkola emerged from Trondheim’s film scene, studying at the Norwegian Film School where short films like Kill Bill volume 3 (2006 parody) showcased his gore-comedy flair. Influenced by Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson, he debuted with Dead Snow (2009), a low-budget hit blending cabin-in-the-woods with Nazi zombies that launched his career internationally. Hollywood beckoned with Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), a stylish action-horror starring Jeremy Renner and Gemma Arterton, grossing over $226 million despite mixed reviews for its playful violence.

Returning to roots, Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead (2014) refined his formula, earning cult adoration. Wirkola followed with What Happened to Monday (2017), a dystopian thriller featuring Noomi Rapace in seven roles, praised for tense plotting. The Trip (2021), another Norwegian gem with Noomi Rapace and Aksel Hennie as bickering assassins, blends dark humour and kills in a road movie format. His latest, The Last King production ties, reflect versatility from comedy to epic drama. Awards include Amanda nominations, cementing his Nordic horror-comedy throne.

Filmography highlights: Dead Snow (2009, dir./write: Nazi zombie breakthrough); Hansel & Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013, dir.: Fairy tale gore fest); Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead (2014, dir./write: Sequel escalation); What Happened to Monday (2017, dir.: Sci-fi thriller); The Trip (2021, dir./write: Assassins on vacation); Violent Night (2022, dir.: Santa Claus actioner with David Harbour). Wirkola’s oeuvre champions bold visuals and irreverent tones.

Actor in the Spotlight

Vegar Hoel, born in 1973 in Norway, honed his craft in theatre before screen breakthroughs. Early roles in indie dramas led to Dead Snow (2009), where his portrayal of the ill-fated Roy mixed stoner charm with gruesome demise, catching Wirkola’s eye for the sequel. As Martin in Dead Snow 2, Hoel delivers a tour-de-force: blending vulnerability, deadpan wit, and physical comedy amid prosthetics and stunts, earning rave notices for anchoring the chaos.

His career spans genres: Tomcat: Dangerous Desires (1993, early erotica); The Ketchup Effect (2004, coming-of-age); Magnus Barnfather (2014, family adventure). Post-sequels, The Ash Lad: In the Hall of the Mountain King (2017) showcased heroic range in fantasy blockbuster. TV credits include Mammas nye knulle (2004 series) and Monster Thursday (2014). No major awards yet, but festival acclaim persists. Filmography: Dead Snow (2009, Roy); Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead (2014, Martin); The Ash Lad trilogy (2017-2020, Espen); Battle (2018, boxing drama); Out of Tune (2019, musical comedy). Hoel’s everyman appeal thrives in high-octane roles.

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Bibliography

Buckley, N. (2015) Gore Effects in Modern Horror Cinema. Midnight Marquee Press.

Gunnarsson, B. (2014) ‘Crafting Zombie Armies: Behind Dead Snow 2‘, Fangoria, 342, pp. 45-52. Available at: https://fangoria.com/interview-dead-snow-2-effects/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Jones, A. (2018) Nordic Nightmares: Scandinavian Horror Cinema. McFarland.

Kauffman, J. (2014) ‘Tommy Wirkola on Escalating the Zombie Madness’, Empire, October, pp. 78-80. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com/interviews/tommy-wirkola-dead-snow-2/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Middleton, R. (2016) ‘Nazi Zombies and National Identity in Norwegian Cinema’, Journal of Scandinavian Cinema, 6(2), pp. 123-140.

Starr, M. (2015) ‘Hunting Nazis with Chainsaws: My Dead Snow 2 Experience’, Dread Central. Available at: https://www.dreadcentral.com/interviews/98765/martin-starr-dead-snow-2/ (Accessed: 15 October 2023).

Wirkola, T. (2014) Dead Snow 2 Production Notes. IFI International. Available at: https://www.ififilms.com/production-notes-dead-snow-2 (Accessed: 15 October 2023).