Today’s movie is not a movie, but rather a two-season miniseries that aired on the BBC from 2013-2014.  In the Flesh consists of nine total episodes (three in season one, six in season two), and aired during the Silver Age of Zombie Films (during the great revival of the genre, when it seemed that zombie films, like their subject matter, were inescapable).

In the Flesh introduces a bit of a twist to the traditional zombie formula:  it takes place after a zombie uprising, known as “The Rising,” took place, and a treatment—not a cure—for zombification has been found.  With a daily dose of medicine, former zombies (called “the Risen” or, derogatorily, “rotters”) can live as humans.  That said, they are not human—they cannot eat or drink food without getting violently ill, for example—and can revert to their “rabid” state if they miss a dose—or if they take an illicit street drug called “Blue Oblivion” that, for some reason, a quasi-terrorist organization called the “Undead Liberation Army” (ULA) distributes to its fanatical members.

The government has adopted a policy of tolerance for what it terms “Partially Deceased Syndrome” (PDS) sufferers, and traumatized humans are supposed to act like everything is fine in this politically-correct new order.  Naturally, that doesn’t really fly, and former members of the Human Volunteer Force struggle to adapt with a world where “former” zombies are treated as people.  They also struggle with evident PTSD and other trauma from spending “the war” (as The Rising is often called in the show) killing zombies and watching their friends and family die.

The show takes place in the fictional northern English village of Roarton, where the first zombies rose, and the townspeople are understandably frustrated with the government’s policy of tolerance to those with PDS.  It is into this mix that Kieran, a “PDS Sufferer,” is released from the PDS processing facility in Norfolk.  His family tries to pick up like everything is normal, but his younger sister, Jem—a teenaged veteran of the HVF—can’t stand her brother, who she views as little more than an abomination.

Other PDS sufferers quietly come home as well.  Apparently, everyone who died in 2009 was, for reasons never explained, reanimated as zombies.  Those who were not killed during The Rising now are the “Partially Deceased,” and share certain characteristics:  odd, pin-pricked eyes; extremely pale skin; the inability to eat or drink normal food (although eating animal brains makes them high); and skin that is cold and clammy to the touch.  To conceal these features, the PDs wear contact lenses and apply heavy cover-up makeup to make themselves appear more human.

The show explores the dangers and pitfalls that await both the living and the Partially Deceased in this brave new world.  The reanimation and attempted rehabilitation of the dead into living society comes with a number of difficult tensions:  are the PDS Sufferers to be treated as equal citizens; can they be trusted; what happens if they miss their meds?  Furthermore, deep distrust runs between the living and the Partially Deceased, and both suffer from trauma.  Many PDS Sufferers regret their killing and eating of the living, while the ULA and others disregard it as beyond their control in their “rabid” state.

Naturally, the major question I had throughout my viewing was, “who in the world thought it was a good idea to release a bunch of potential zombies into mainstream society when missing a single dose of medication turns them back into man-eating monsters?”  The show, being a BBC production, naturally plays that reasonable sentiment off as The Bad Viewpoint.  The show does address that question in more detail in Season 2, and shows where the origins came from (a government official coins the phrase “Partially Deceased Syndrome,” and says, “it sounds manageable”), but it’s hard not to view the policy as reckless, even as we come to know and love the characters who suffer from PDS.

The effect is probably the opposite, though, of what is intended:  it  shows the kind of blind arrogance of the ruling elite, who are frequently mocked in the show by those who are meant to be the intolerant bigots.  But it is a major problem:  plenty of people with chronic illnesses forget to take their medication sometimes (heck, I forgot to take my blood pressure medication one day this week).  Sure, not taking this medication is several orders of magnitude greater, but someone will forget (and someone does in the show).

Also, I never understand the Blue Oblivion subplot.  Why would PDS people want to “go rabid”?  There are ULA terrorists who do it intentionally on a train as an act of terror in protest to the rise of the pro-living party, Victus (very typical:  Leftists staging terrorist attacks in response to the outcomes of democratic elections), but some teenage PDS kids do it at school one day and they nearly get killed before the drug wears off (and living kids cower in their classrooms).  It would seem the only reason you would take Blue Oblivion is if you wanted to hurt other people, in which case you’re a monster regardless of your degree of deceasedness.

Those plot holes and mild wokeness aside, I really enjoyed this show.  The writing was very good, and the characters are great.  Kieran, the main character, is a bit insufferable—he’s the white knight gay zombie guy, but he’s actually pretty sensible overall—but the rest of the characters are quite believable.  The star of the show is Amy, a PDS sufferer with a zest for life, who ends up being the emotional heart of the show—as well as key to the plot near the end of the second season.

The show ends with heartbreak, with room open for a third season that never came.  I was sad to see it end, but I also appreciate the tendency of British shows to have a finite run and a conclusive end, rather than leading viewers on for a dozen of seasons or more before facing arbitrary cancellation (the American model).

In the Flesh is well worth your time.  Check it out!