31 Days of  Drafts and Darkness:

"Antiviral" (2013)

We started off our list with Roddy Piper vs. a legion of media-obsessed aliens. We're gonna stick with the media-centric theme, but this time change up the tone. "Antiviral" is one of those movies that may be light on pure scares, but has a creep factor that gets under your skin early on and never lets up. Shall we begin?

Note: This is on Netflix Instant Stream right now if you want to check it out!

The Plot:

In the near future, mankind's obsession with celebrity culture has given birth to a new industry. Pharmaceutical companies once devoted to curing disease now sell strains of viruses and bacteria to the general public, complete with a guarantee of infection for all clients. Why the heck would people pay for an infection? Why, the strains are all harvested from the bodies of celebrities, allowing devoted fans to truly experience the same feelings as their idol. Has your favorite singer contracted some rare STD? Well, for a hefty sum, you can have the exact same strain, taken directly from their sold blood, introduced into your body. You'll never feel any closer.

Much of society now revolves about the daily lives of the rich and famous. Movie stars are held as pseudo-royalty, followed by paparazzi so doggedly that many hire entire hosts of bodyguards to shield them. Not so far removed from today's world, huh? Well, some of the same biotech that allows celebrity viruses and bacteria to be harvested and replicated has also been applied to the food industry, as people can buy deli meat cultured from celebrity muscle cells. Get why this is a horror movie yet?

Caleb Landry Jones (Banshee from "X-Men: First Class") plays Syd Marsh, an employee at one of America's leading infection clinics. He's half salesman, half nurse. His job involves not only collecting infectious blood from celebrities eager to sell, but also selling the infections to potential clients. Though Syd's got a hot job, his health never seems stellar. Heck, we first meet him checking his temperature via good old fashioned thermometer. If Syd's so well versed in the way of disease, why does he always look so sick? 

Well folks, that'd be because our protagonist has a little side deal going on. After injecting clients, he'll 

frequently shoot up whatever's left into his own body, smuggling the strain out of the facility and selling it on the black market. Apart from having the eternal sniffles, such a lifestyle makes things tense for Syd on the both legal and job-security side of things.

Our plot's set into motion once Syd unknowingly injects himself with a virus custom-designed to outright assassinate the celebrity it originally infected. Now on a literal clock for his and the movie star's life, Syd has to get to the bottom of who designed the disease, why, and if there's any cure. His journey will take you through one seriously warped, dark world.

The Flavor:

"Antiviral" isn't so much scary as it is deeply unsettling. It's disturbing nature stems from how the obsessive celebrity worship and subsequent madness seem they could be a natural progression of the way things are now. Society in "Antiviral" is exaggerated but still feels realistic enough to give you the chills. There are no masked murders or monsters, only people and the insane lengths they'll go in their fandom.

As insane as this world feels, the film does a great job illustrating how the media and local trends amp up the idea of celebrity products. People line up around the block to get a fresh slice of movie-star cutlet. Anyone who's not on board seems outdated and not 'in'. The facility Syd works in appears a white, shiny wonderland not far removed from today's Apple Store.

The violence is very minimal. It's the subject matter that'll make anyone who's squeamish groan. "Antiviral" has this dark, dank mood that jumps back and forth from dirty to hospital-sterile and back, often within the same scene. You're constantly given a vibe that something's not quite right, though it's from the experience as a whole rather than any specific scene. You'll certainly be thinking about what messages the movie has to say as it gets under your skin and crawls around.

"Antiviral" is directed by Bradon Cronenberg, son of filmmaker David Cronenberg. If you're familiar with any of Cronenberg Sr's film catalogue - "The Fly" (1986), "Videodrome" (1983) - you'll have an idea what atmosphere to expect when walking into Cronenberg Jr's vision. Though the body horror is not as openly graphic as in "The Fly", it's certainly there. And when it does show up, though mainly implied, it'll dig at you.

Best Paired with:

Not what I would call 'fun' by any stretch, "Antiviral" is one of those dark films that makes you think and thus is best enjoyed either alone or with a close friend/partner. Make sure you are in the mood for a film that'll actively set out to disturb you but poses some really interesting questions along the way. If you're willing to accept the creepiness, which again, is pretty much entirely cerebral, you'll appreciate the twisted tale for what it's trying to say about our culture.

I've always enjoyed movies with a warped world that echoes our own. "Antiviral" has an echo that is eerily realistic.

Accompanying Brew:

What best to pair with a dark, brooding affair with questions on its mind? How about an equally dark brew that offers up something a little different from your typical stout?

Guinness Red Harvest is the Fall seasonal offering put forth by the famous Dublin brewery to usher in the autumn months.  If you're as much a fan of the velvety smooth texture of Guinness as I am, you'll no doubt be pleased by Red Harvest's similar feel. Like it's darker brother, Red Harvest goes down like silk, making it surprisingly easy to drink for a beer that's heavier in body.

It's the flavor-department where things differ between Red Harvest and a classic Guinness. Whereas Dublin's standby stout features a strong roasted character, Red Harvest features far less roasty flavor and considerably amps up the malt. Much like an Octoberfest, Red Harvest's malts unfold over the tongue and leave a nutty flavor that extends well into the aftertaste. It's an interesting blend: texture and body of a stout with flavor more akin to a Fall red or Octoberfest.

Aside from the eerily-appropriate sounding name, Guinness Red Harvest pairs well with "Antiviral" in that it offers up something other than what you'd expect on the surface. Much in how "Antiviral" appears bio-horror in the 'ick' kind of way, only to instead disturb you subtly, Red Harvest appears your typical stout upon first pour, only revealing its different flavors after a few sips. Both are meant to be enjoyed slowly, to give you time to think about what you're experiencing. Sure, you could breeze through "Antiviral" as a mere creepy body-horror flick, much in the same way you could chug a silky stout without trouble. But you'd be missing out on all the little flavors and details.