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The film opens on a tight shot of a shoulder in a shower in high speed slow motion, cut to: an intimate embrace between two lovers, cut to: close ups of various body parts that are difficult to distinguish, cut to: graphic money shot of Willem Dafoe's penis sliding into Charlotte Gainsbourg's vagina.

Somebody read that opening and actually thought, "I'm going to finance this film." Amongst the chaos of the extremely long, ultra slow motion 10 minute opening of Lars von Trier's Antichrist we see an intercutting of the couple's young son exiting his room and leaping to his demise from a second story window while his parents are in the throes of passion. The result of this child neglect leaves us with the child's hospitalized grief-stricken mother (Gainsbourg) and her detached therapist of a husband (Dafoe). The husband decides to take his wife to their cabin in the woods and treat her to deal with the grief in each stage. Along the way, we will see clitorides (that's plural for clitoris, folks) being cut, penises ejaculating blood, talking foxes, and a whole lot of pretentious, self indulgent BS.
 
 
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A plague has swept the world over, and people have turned into zombies--everyone, that is, except a select few who have somehow managed to find a way to survive living by their own rules for keeping alive. We start on a young man named Columbus (after where he is from, people are identified by locations so no one gets too attached) who is on his way back home from Austin (represent!) to see if his parents are still alive. Along the way he fights some zombies and happens upon a bad ass, take no prisoners, Twinkie hunter named Tallahassee (guess where he's from?). Together the two set out for Ohio until they happen upon two con girls who steal their car and weapons. It's no-holds-barred when you're living in Zombieland.

MORE after the jump...