4. Pontypool
This inventive (if a little uneven) 2009 Canadian thriller threw some much-needed brains into the zombie genre; as a radio station falls under siege following the discovery that a deadly infection is being carried via the spoken word. The first half of the film works incredibly well, with the initial reports of the infection trickling through the airwaves and not a drop of blood shown onscreen. Leaving it up to the listener to picture the carnage, it effectively becomes a chillingly authentic radio play. That is, until we see the ludicrous linguistic means of survival that our protagonists are forced to take. But stick around for this surreal, stylish coda. Shot in Frank Miller-esque monochrome, we see deejays Grant (Stephen McHattie) and Sydney (Lisa Houle) plan a new life together (along with new, impossibly cool names); his vision of the pair as renegades on the open road appealing to her childlike line of questioning. They appear to be in an Eastern setting, with the snow falling behind them and the colour gradually drawing back into the picture as they talk. Suffice it to say, it's very different to the film you've just seen. Their dialogue is almost certainly tongue-in-cheek, all punchy promises that sound like taglines to grindhouse movies, indicating that they've had to switch not only the film's look but also lexis in order to avoid infection. This little snippet of confusion then comes to an end with Grant quickly rushing a finger to Sydney's mouth to stop her from uttering the word 'baby'. This bit, you'll understand. Sort of.