In an era where zombie films are a dime a dozen, it’s always delightful to find one with a refreshing new spin, even if it’s one of extreme tragedy.
Maggie takes one of the zombie genre’s most tragic elements—the forced transformation of loved ones into cannibalistic monsters—and explores it in an effectively profound way. The film features a post-apocalyptic world where people are beginning to return to their old lives after a massive zombie outbreak (known in-film as “the turn”). The infected have dwindled down significantly, but they still exist, one such infected biting teenager Maggie Vogel (Abigail Breslin, who also played Little Rock in the far more comedic Zombieland). Maggie’s father Wade (Arnold Schwarzenegger) finds and brings her back home from a contamination center thanks to a favor from his doctor friend Vern (Jodie Moore). Vern explains to Wade that Maggie will eventually succumb to the rapidly progressing infection in a matter of weeks, where she too will become violently cannibalistic. Vern writes a false report saying the disease is progressing slowly, giving Wade the choice to pick from one of three options when the time comes: send Maggie to quarantine (a place where all the infected—no matter what stage—are bundled together), give her a very painful lethal injection, or lastly, “make it quick”.
Maggie takes one of the zombie genre’s most tragic elements—the forced transformation of loved ones into cannibalistic monsters—and explores it in an effectively profound way. The film features a post-apocalyptic world where people are beginning to return to their old lives after a massive zombie outbreak (known in-film as “the turn”). The infected have dwindled down significantly, but they still exist, one such infected biting teenager Maggie Vogel (Abigail Breslin, who also played Little Rock in the far more comedic Zombieland). Maggie’s father Wade (Arnold Schwarzenegger) finds and brings her back home from a contamination center thanks to a favor from his doctor friend Vern (Jodie Moore). Vern explains to Wade that Maggie will eventually succumb to the rapidly progressing infection in a matter of weeks, where she too will become violently cannibalistic. Vern writes a false report saying the disease is progressing slowly, giving Wade the choice to pick from one of three options when the time comes: send Maggie to quarantine (a place where all the infected—no matter what stage—are bundled together), give her a very painful lethal injection, or lastly, “make it quick”.
Maggie is quite possibly the calmest zombie film I’ve ever seen. Despite Schwarzenegger’s co-lead role, there’s very little action throughout. Comedy is limited to a natural format between characters, and while gruesome at times, the horrific imagery is used more to amplify its tragic elements rather than for shock value. The zombie genre in itself is built upon tragedy, yet never have I seen a zombie film so purely heartbreaking: its sole focus on the inevitable destructive transformation of a beloved human. In many ways, Maggie is more reminiscent to the drama Still Alice—a film about a woman diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease—than a zombie story. Both films ask the same questions concerning how to handle their character’s incurable disease. In Maggie, the title character continues trying to live as normal as time allows. She eats dinner with her dad and stepmom (the younger siblings having been sent to their aunt’s as a precaution) and hangs out with her teen friends, including her infected ex-boyfriend, who she had—before being infected herself—previously left out of fear. The shared disease helps rekindle their relationship, only for it to, inevitably, end in tragedy. Maggie’s symptoms get worse as the film progresses: her eyes begin to get glossy (forcing her to wear sunglasses), blood becomes a think black, and she finds maggots living within her rotting skin. In one scene, Maggie begins smelling “food” around her parents despite nothing being cooked. Her mother begins carrying around scissors after this, albeit subtly so Maggie won’t notice (who can blame her really).
Maggie features lovely cinematography, in particular some beautiful, and at times creative, shots using the sun. The performances from both Breslin and Schwarzenegger are above solid, yet it’s Schwarzenegger who truly stands out. The recently returned actor gives his most subtle performance to date, while still retaining his larger than life quality. His character’s father-daughter bond is a remarkably touching one that the film gives plentiful screen time for development—adding all the more to its tragedy. His performance is unexpectedly, yet effectively emotional; there’s even a scene where, for the first time on screen, Arnold Schwarzenegger sheds a tear. I honestly don’t know what’s more astounding: that Schwarzenegger cries in a film, or how efficiently sad the scene is. Wade is Schwarzenegger’s finest role since his return to cinema, and one of his best roles to date. Maggie is a truly refreshing angle on the zombie apocalypse genre, though calling it a zombie film isn’t truly accurate. Maggie, if anything, is a remarkable drama about the handling of a self-destructive disease, similar to the likes of cancer or Alzheimer’s. It’s surprisingly powerful, and a must-see for anyone looking for a new take on the increasingly routine undead stories.