My dear readers, as some of you may know, my sweet Penny Dee and I had a rather extensive period of courtship before we were comfortable taking the next “big step” in our relationship. But then, one magical, moonlight night, we formally agreed to become betrothed at some future date before departing to our separate residences. The seven years that have passed since that evening have been absolutely enchanting but at some point, I suspect, we will actually have to go through with the whole thing. We had set a tentative date and to consult on this matter, I decided to pay a visit to my grandmother Imelda Hauntedhouse. She has outlasted many of her own progeny and when pressed about her longevity, Imelda gives partial credit to her powers of prescience, and her guidance in matters large and small has been sought by many of our lineage. Unfortunately, when pressed about whether the selected date would be a fortuitous occasion for sealing our nuptials, Imelda foresaw dozens drowned in a torrent of blood and the digits of an ancient deity’s hand puncturing the marital altar. She did mention, however, that the flower arrangements were quite charming and so the debate over whether or not to push the date has some weight on either side.

Ronnie Peterson (Adam Driver) is deeply familiar with troubling premonitions. He is a member of the local police force and along with Chief Cliff Robertson (Bill Murray) and Officer Mindy Morrison (Chloë Sevigny), he is tasked with keeping the peace in the relatively quiet town of Centerville. A typical day of law enforcement might include little more than a pleasant cruise about the neighborhood, perhaps stopping to request that Hermit Bob (Tom Waits) engage in less flamboyant felonious behavior or to monitor tensions surrounding a farmer who enjoys sporting “MAGA” haberdashery in public dining establishments.

Unfortunately, the peaceful state of their jurisdiction comes to a sudden and dramatic end when the eponymous dead rise from their graves and feast upon the living. This is a highly unusual occurrence for any municipality and yet for the most part, the Centerville law officers handle this development well. Ronnie is particularly composed, especially considering his gloomy outlook on the whole situation. At every available opportunity, he makes it clear that he does not expect this zombie infestation to end in a satisfactory manner. And while Chief Robertson is initially reluctant to entertain such a somber assessment, the circumstances increasingly suggest that a favorable outcome is far from likely.

I feel it is worth mentioning, my gentle readers, that I am just as willing to indulge a challenging artistic personality like director Jim Jarmusch as the next fellow. I have no illusions about his methods and I am well aware that an audience member attending one of Mr. Jarmusch’s films may have their hopes for a conventional narrative thoroughly dashed. But in his latest cinematic endeavor, the man has put in bold marquee letters that the dead, those that have most definitively quit this business of life, do not die. And yet throughout The Dead Don’t Die, we see many of these resurrected personalities being extinguished anew, sometimes dozens at a time. It is as if one were to watch a film entitled The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, only to find that the film was staged in Minnesota and involved neither chainsaws nor massacres. Despite my awareness of Mr. Jarmusch’s tendencies, this deliberately misleading exercise in advertising still caught me completely off guard. It is clearly evidence that his mysterious talents have not faded in the decades since his debut. I find myself looking forward to his next feature-length feat of mischaracterization.

The Dead Don’t Die is rated R for zombie violence, gore and for language.