The Horde Review

• 20th Sep 2010

Like many of the recent crime and horror films that have come out of France in the last year or so, The Horde is grim, gritty and atmospheric. It also kicks off with an interesting premise. What would happen if a bunch of cops on an illegal raid to avenge the death of one of their own at the hands of a gun-wielding gang, find that while they’ve been trying to kill each other a full-on zombie apocalypse has broken out, forcing them to put aside their differences and team up? The Horde (La Horde in French – I’m not going to be impressing anyone with those linguistic skills), aims to show us. Set almost entirely in a rundown tower-block in a Parisian slum, the atmosphere is creepy, dingy and claustrophobic, the violence unrelenting and the reanimated corpses suitably ravenous.

There are some stand-out action sequences – you name a weapon, it’s probably in there – with pistols, grenades, machetes, a Gatling gun and even a fridge used to great effect. As corrupt cops and gang members, the survivors are already used to kicking the living shit out of their fellow man, so bashing the infected’s heads in (in one notable case with the use of a kitchen cupboard door) doesn’t provide any inconvenient moral hiccups to slow down the bloodbath. The usual zombie rules apply, although somewhat irritatingly and despite my shouting at the TV “Shoot him in the head!” and “He’s been bitten, kill him!” clearly none of our protagonists have ever seen a Romero film and it takes them a while to catch on.

Unfortunately, the film ultimately fails to deliver, turning into a generic running-down-blood-spattered-corridors survival horror. L’Evil Resident, if you will. There’s even the obligatory shot of the horde of the title swarming over one of the protagonists in an uncontrollable sea of greedy arms and mouths. The human characters are supposed to be the focus of the story but are mainly unpleasant, sweary individuals making it hard to root for them. The only exception is Alain Figlarz’s performance as an excitable war-obsessed caretaker; his casual attitude to amputation and cocaine fuelled ramblings provide some much needed comic relief.

Bloody close ups, a girl-on-zombie girl bitch fight, the odd exploding head and buckets of gore won’t raise this above mediocrity, but it does what it says on the tin. It’s not going to be winning any prizes for originality, but if what you’re after is atmospheric, OTT urban warfare with a liberal application of swearing, sweating and brain matter, then this is not a bad way to while away your time.

Emma Wilkin