The Ghost Writer

Webster’s dictionary defines pontificate as: “to speak or express opinions in a pompous or dogmatic way.” Sorry to start this one off like a bad bridesmaid’s speech. There are a lot of spoilers under here for Pontypool.

Pontypool is genius because it’s constantly self-referential and repetitive, the thing itself that defines the virus of the movie. The town (dare I say…the POOL of people) is infected with a virus that spreads via the English language, and its hallmark is the repetition of diseased words. The singular genius of this movie was the opening monologue, in which Grant, the radio host, tells the sad story of Honey, the missing cat, through the lens of Norman Mailer’s 1995 Oswald’s Tale: An American Mystery. 

In the wake of huge events, after them and before them, physical details they spasm for a moment; they sort of unlock and when they come back into focus they suddenly coincide in a weird way. Street names and birthdates and middle names, all kind of superfluous things appear related to eachother. It’s a ripple effect. So, what does it mean? Well… it means something’s going to happen.

The actual quote which he’s referring to is: “Perhaps the cosmos likes to strew coincidence around the rim of the funnel into which large events are converging.” It refers to the Kennedy assassination. But we don’t have time for all that. 

The beauty is that the name of the missing cat, Honey, is one of the diseased words, and through Grant’s broadcast, he effectively spreads the disease to the whole town. 

As we find out later, the repetition of words is the body’s way of attempting to rid them of meaning, rendering them no longer diseased, since sickness, including murderous and suicidal ideation, happens when people hear the words and understand them. Which is why the French language is safe.

But the name Honey, the pet name honey, and the food hold different meanings. Regardless, the fact that the cat’s name is Honey — and the spiel Grant goes on regarding the French Pont de Flaque, it just all combines into, as Norman says, a funnel. Idk. 

Aside from the existential linguistic nonsense above, what I loved about this movie: Almost none of the horror is on screen. I think the movie lent itself beautifully to the art of auditory storytelling. Even the comic-relief-bit about Grant needing to do the obits turns sinister — he begins to detail, on air, how people in the town are meeting violent ends by each other’s hands. And the conversations with Ken (!!!) were almost more unsettling because of the lack of violence.

What I didn’t like: Midway through the movie, I actually thought I missed something. I understand the movie requires a certain level of suspended disbelief, but I began to question if things held up when Sydney had so much information regarding how people died, what was going on in the town. And the scene where Grant thinks he’s being punked, and Sydney says the BBC picked up the cat story…. I was like, huh?? Am I being punked? 

I’ll also say, for a zombie-adjacent movie, there was barely any violence. I was also left with a lot of unanswered questions (can they read lips?? Why did we point a finger at that to begin with? Why did the doctor sacrifice himself?) 

Then they throw in the romance wrench, which I just didn’t need. Throw enough shit at a wall and you get a shit mural, I guess. 

Worth the watch if you’re in the mood to think sort of hard and be creeped out.