12 Days in December: Musical Mayhem
Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)
★★★★★★★★☆☆ (8 out of 10 stars)
Directors: John McPhail
Producers: Naysun Alae-Carew, Nicholas Crum, Tracy Jarvis
Starring: Ella Hunt, Malcolm Cumming, Sarah Swire, Christopher Leveaux, Ben Wiggins
“We go to war!” – Nick
The Review:
Ah, my fiendish friends of the frostbitten fall season… gather close. Tonight’s winter wind carries a tune—sweet, sharp, and slick with the crimson sheen of the undead. For the the latest entry of 12 Days in December, for 31 Days of Halloween, allow me to present a most unexpected confection: a musical steeped in holiday cheer, drenched in blood, and buoyed by youthful longing. Yes, tonight we unearth Anna and the Apocalypse, a curious beast that waltzes between horror and harmony with a grin as bright as a candy cane dipped in shadow.
This was surprisingly a decent zombie horror film—though one clad in scarves, school uniforms, and the shimmering sparkle of musical theater. What struck me was how well-executed a musical it truly is. Not the grandest production ever staged—but certainly a satisfying one. There are favorite songs here, moments that burrow into the brain like a festive earworm: a melody hummed at dusk when the world feels large and uncertain, or shouted into the void when courage must eclipse fear.
The film is rich with touching moments of growing up, of confronting the prickling truth that life’s challenges march toward us with all the relentlessness of the undead. There is hilarity—fiendishly fair doses of it. There is action—adequately splattering its way across snow and linoleum. And yes, there is the unforgettable “Soldier at War” sequence, a burst of bravado so over-the-top it becomes almost mythic, strutting through the apocalypse with all the charm of a devil preening onstage.
Yet even amid the tap-dancing terror, this cinematic stocking-stuffer has teeth. The filmmakers slip in a dreadful dose of well-staged tragedy and genuine heroism, unexpected and admirably earned. It is here—in these darker, quieter corners—that the film pulls closest to the chilly heart of winter horror.
But is it terrifying? No, not truly. Its claws are soft, its shadows trimmed in tinsel. Instead, what it offers is something more subtle and strangely warming:
A tasty winter treat, like warm cider sipped while the cold nips at your bones—or like discovering a forgotten bag of Halloween candy, still sealed, still sweet, still begging to be devoured in the last gasps of fall.
Anna and the Apocalypse is not the best zombie movie, nor the best musical—but it is unquestionably one of the most endearing and entertaining hybrids to ever croon its way into the grave. And sometimes, my dear creatures of the moonlit margins, that is more than enough.
Now go—unwrap it. Just beware the high notes… and the hungry ones.