I love...Scooby-Doo.
Whether it's presented in its original composition as "Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!"
or any of its give-or-take 11 reboots, no other franchise has ever managed to
perplex and impress me with how well its charm has endured...the passing...of time.
And, I struggle to think of a truer expression of this charm - or of a more honest
admission that time has indeed passed   - than Jim Stenstrum's audacious quartet of
turn-of-the-century, direct-to-video films; beginning with what I consider to be its
boldest and most distinguished  entry -  Scooby-Doo On Zombie Island. Throughout  
every frame of its 77 minute run-time, between every bombastic comedy noise,
every exuberant step forward in its story and every campy musical movement to
accompany it(!), lies a desire not just to simply stem the rising tide of audience
fatigue that had invariably taken hold of the franchise nearly 3 decades into its life(?),
but a desire to rebuke this sense of attrition entirely. And this reintroduction to our sorely missed  
team of mystery seeking teens plays out as an incredibly dynamic exploitation of
its audience's nostalgia.  The ensemble's mutual despondence and loneliness in the absence of their
shared passion, but simultaneous distaste for the tedium of never truly  encountering the super-natural,
as well as the rather stark changes made to the ensemble themselves, lay the foundation  of an incredibly perceptive
and self-aware script littered with not only  affirmations(!)  but resolutions  to the most distinct criticisms of the
series that Zombie Island bears its name to. Every step that it takes is a step  away  from the series' now-tired formula and towards  a rekindling of what made Scooby-Doo exciting to begin with(!). And with each of these new steps, an incredibly invigorating breath of fresh air can be drawn in by all who are watching.  Now  the threats are palpable. The characters competent  and the world immersive. Every visual gag, every montage, every suspicion, every motif, and every  narrative beat lean further and further against the expectations one could have for it when it was released. Through each rise and fall of the film's adventurous chorus, the franchise's past is mocked and then paid loving tribute to - often in the same breath - each character in the film existing as a shimmering, breathing reflection  of the expectations Zombie Island so boisterously subverts. Velma doesn't lose her glasses, Shaggy and Scooby are the only characters who neautralize threats, Fred doesn't lead anymore, and Daphne isn't a damsel in distress. The zombies are a benevolent force and, instead of a scheming farm-hand or a morally bankrupt attorney, the prevailing antagonistic force within this mystery  is an  actual  god. It doesn't feel  like classic Scooby-Doo! And it is precisely because of this that Stenstrum's take on the Hanna-Barbera classic(?) feels exactly  like classic Scooby-Doo. Because - it's exciting again. It's captivating, and it's hilarious, and it's scary, and it's brilliant.  However well known it may be for its tonal shift to the macabre,  it is precisely because of this darkness that Scooby Doo On Zombie Island...is able to shine.
It's ghoulish, and I love it.
Thanks Jim.