I Sell the Dead

Straight from the horse's mouth comes the base element of I Sell the Dead. Only since it established off of a very similar presentation of reflective nurseries dictated from a dead man walking was it able to gain a fresh and authoritative vision of cinematic entertainment. Glenn McQuaid has shown us the potential for Irish period horror-com's and boy does the future look dead since we can all agree this clever film was a fluke. Must I recall painful and scathing memories of the late Bernie Mac's Irish performance in Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle? For this reason, I refuse to acknowledge that McG is directing a new Terminator film. Had he any doubt of seriousness, he would have changed his gay ass name into something a bit more professional and not something kids in the 3rd grade nicked him.



I Sell the Dead is a rather whimsical piece of horror/comedy that would eventually erupt, violently, in murder, supernatural mystique, and rival gang drama. Basically, this film is equipped with what it needs to entertain thoroughly and not bore a single fan. Dominic Monaghan is the apprentice underling of an infamous grave robber by the name of Willy. Only just recently, Willy met his fate at the guillotine for a frame job convicting him of murder. Well, the same fate has hit his partner, Arthur, as he awaits trial by execution and his only saving grace is pleading his life story to a passive-aggressive priest played by Ron Perlman. The following recited tale is a brilliant story of a pair of down-on-their-luck grave robbers and how they struggle to cope with thievery, deceit, zombies, vampires, wait what?

This cunning idea that's presented in I Sell the Dead is an unsuspecting creeper -- one that waits for you to enjoy what the film gives you and surprises you with fantastical tales that don't seem to fit the current scheme of things. After the slew of proportions panned out, I certainly wasn't expecting the roles of vampires and zombies to be entering my visions. I was expecting a cultural "fuck all" which gingerly describes most period pieces now-a-days but what I got was a film that starkly illustrated good times in the events of two bumbling would-be heroes. Budget based on reputation and directed towards slimy aesthetics is the formulaic stamp of period pieces. Recreating an era takes time and this doesn't even begin to cover the story at all. These "famous frauds" should be stripped of the worthy title of "Director" and be listed as an incompetent costume designer but wait, Irony prevails as that listed job already exists. Homo sapien decor has never been so frivolous.


To add to the already stiff blessing you've received from the dear company of I Sell the Dead, this also marks a horror comedy that doesn't entirely insult your intelligence. Fact of the matter is that most of these hybrids flat out suck on terms of scares, humor, and overall direction. Severed head gags work to a stifled extent and armed with predictability, can drag a film to hell with a non-styled free fall of "been there, seen that." I Sell the Dead is probably one of Ireland's only recent point of characters; the irony resides in the shooting location of New York, but alas, all's well. I Sell the Dead is still one of the only "great" horror comedies recently that see to the entertainment of the potential audience.

-mAQ