DORM OF THE DEAD, a 2006 video-bound feature, was directed by Donald F. Farmer. If you're familiar with the cinematic atrocities Mr. Farmer has committed (Exhibit A: the spectacularly awful rape-revenge pic SAVAGE VENGEANCE), then feel free to skip this review. Trust me, I won't be saying anything you don't already know.
Sort of a LIVING DEAD MEAN GIRL, taking place at Arkham University (is there a cheaper in-joke than a Lovecraft reference?), DORM's threadbare scenario involves a rivalry between bitchy campus queens Jackie Hall and Andrea Ownby and Goth chicks Adrianna Eder and Ciara Richards. When a zombie outbreak infects the university, the Goth girls finally find a way to settle the score, but find themselves way over their heads.
There's no way to sugar-coat it, so I'll just say it: WORST ACTING EVER. Even with the lovely Tiffany Shepis gracing this film (a credit that DORM does not deserve) this has got to be the most incompetent assemblage of actors this side of gonzo porn. At least the crappy performances suit the lousy writing, direction, photography, gore effects (Herschell Gordon Lewis never would've tried to pass off these fx), etc.--over two decades of filmmaking experience, and Farmer still doesn't have a clue about making movies. But what do you expect from a director who ruins a perfectly good lesbian sex scene with ghastly techno music?
You certainly are, if you dare to put this 2007 shot-on-video crapfest into your DVD player. Directed by Michael Su, DOOMED is ostensibly a parody of SURVIVOR with an undead twist, but the overall execution is done so poorly that fans of both reality TV and zombies will be utterly bored and disappointed. (If you want to see this type of thing done right, check out Brian Keene's novel CASTAWAYS, about an island-bound reality show beset by monsters, due in bookstores this January.)
In a premise that sounds awfully similar to THE RUNNING MAN, a near-future competition-based reality show pits teams of convicted felons against each other for the chance of early release, as well as a $50 million prize. The contestants are dropped on the Isola de Romero (sigh), unaware--though they should be, given the glaring zombie-flick reference--that the island's living dead population will be their biggest challenge.
DOOMED might've worked if it had attempted to satirize the conventions of reality TV or voyeuristic entertainment, but all it does is simply replicate an ordinary episode of SURVIVOR; I've never been fond of the show, which increased my tedium tenfold, but even a die-hard fan would be put off by this. Instead of drama or tension, the flimsy screenplay gives us scripted recreations of reality-TV bickering, and substitutes types for characters. And when Su finally gives us an action sequence, it's punctuated with annoying video-game "hit points" that tally up the damage, a detail that gets increasingly exhausting each time it's employed.
Laughably inept, boring beyond belief, DOOMED keeps its zombies off-screen much of the time, breaking them out only when it's time to thin the cast. (If I told you their appearances were edited so quickly as to be incomprehensible, would you be surprised?) At a meager 76 minutes it's still stretched to the snapping point, finished off with a stupid cop-out ending that would've enraged me, if I hadn't already hated this movie from the get-go.
I'd rather be stranded on a desert island, eating a fried rat off Richard Hatch's bare ass than watch this thing again.
When I caught the charming British short I RAN FROM A ZOMBIE on Day 316 I felt like I'd discovered something special; at least I knew not every student zombie short was destined to be awful. My good fortune, however, was short-lived, having run smack into UNIVERSITY OF THE LIVING DEAD, a Swedish-produced short from 2008 that embraces everything that makes amateur productions so hard to sit through.
The version I watched, and available below, fails to include credits, so I'm not sure who's responsible for this thing (and I don't have the inclination to look it up--but feel free if you'd like), and it is in untranslated Swedish, but the dialogue is minimal and the simplistic story is easy to follow.
Bottom line, UNIVERSITY is boring. As boring as a ten-minute short could possibly be (perhaps if the filmmakers didn't wait until the six-minute mark to bring out the zombies it wouldn't have been so bad). Granted, the zombies' introduction was pretty well done, and almost generated the right amount of thrills, but . . . what's up with the living dead? They're not quite fast zombies, yet they don't shuffle. They kind of look like someone racing to the toilet after a long night of Corona and cheap tacos.
Getting back to the tedium, mundane action is given far too much screen time. If you or I were trapped in a public restroom, or stuck without cell phone service, we'd try to remedy the situation for more than a few seconds. But, if we were characters in a movie--especially one ten friggin' minutes long--we'd do it just long enough to establish we're stuck in the john with no bars on our phone, okay?
So UNIVERSITY ends like every other cheap student short: heroine runs from the zombies a while before falling victim. Sheesh, not exactly an M. Night Shamalyan twist, is it? It's kinda well-executed, though not well enough to overlook the "they got me and now I'm one of them!" closing.
Oh, and the zombie plumber-crack at 9:43 was totally unwarranted.
Writer/director Jake Kennedy's 2007 shot-on-video opus DAYS OF DARKNESS has popped up in several conversations since 365 Days of the Dead began; I've heard, "Hey, check that one out, it's not your typical zombie flick," as often as I've gotten, "Dude, don't waste your time, it sucks!" Since divisive movies intrigue me, I decided to see for myself, and although the movie is definitely a mixed bag, it is certainly not your typical zombie flick.
It starts out as one, as a passing comet covers the earth in a toxic dust that turns people into zombies, forcing survivors to seek shelter at an abandoned microwave station. Kennedy seems none too interested in doing something different with the living dead--at least not at first--but manages to establish a good build-up with just enough characterization and well-timed action. Yet just when you think the film will remain a mere Romero pastiche, it starts to veer into strange new directions.
I won't go into too much detail, since these variations are what makes DAYS OF DARKNESS worth checking out, but I will say I can't think of very many movies that feature zombified genitalia. (There's even a quite memorable "crotch exam" sequence.) The plot twists get steadily loopier, leading to one helluva "Eureka!" moment as the main character figures out just what's going on, but I gotta give props to Kennedy for audacity, even if his execution leaves something to be desired.
Kennedy tries to assemble a more outre roster of characters--such as the former porn star who uses her extensive anal experience to explain why she can't kill zombies--but too often they come off as gimmicky and unintentionally humorous (I still don't know if this was supposed to be a comedy or not), and they still resort to the same pointless bickering that can be found in any post-apocalypse zombie film. (Though there are quite a few novel character types, I really could've done without the queer-bashing fanatical preacher.)
DAYS OF DARKNESS is in many ways like a lot of micro-budget films--boasting lame CGI effects that instill little confidence in the audience--but it's what it does differently that gives it that edge (Kennedy even throws in a happy ending--awww.) Not to be confused with great cinema, it at least offers something different than the usual Romero-esque gut-munching.
WICKED LITTLE THINGS was among the initial batch of After Dark's Horrorfest productions, and generally considered the worst of the lot. Having not seen all of the entries I'll reserve judgment, but I will say this 2006 film is the cinematic equivalent of an '80s horror paperback--all that's missing is the Zebra logo on the DVD sleeve. Derivative and trite, it hits all the prerequisite horror bases, director J.S. Cardone doling out the cliches with clockwork timing.
Sort of a combination ghost/zombie tale (a variation I've been noticing a lot lately), WICKED LITTLE THINGS concerns a single mother and her two daughters moving into a ramshackle house in the Pennsylvania mountains following her husband's death. The house, they'll come to discover, is located near an abandoned mine, where several child-workers were buried alive in a long-ago accident. And with the developments of a local real estate baron--a sinister, greedy real estate baron, as if there were no other kind--tearing up the nearby earth it isn't long before the spirits/undead bodies of (the film never makes it clear which) are out and about, feeding messily on secondary characters.
The film is steeped in rustic atmosphere, making a good setting for a ghost yarn, but the screenplay is too riddled with well-worn tropes; it's the kind of movie where the local handyman is a convenient source of exposition, as if the ability to identify people in old photographs and relate dormant legends are part of a plumber's job description. It also asks us to be divinely patient with the older daughter--as always an unrelenting bitch--as if we're suddenly going to care and be so happy once she finally settles down after her encounter with the supernatural. (Um, how about she gets eaten by zombie moppets in the first reel and save us all some misery?) Of course, the younger daughter is friendly with the ghost-zombie kids, and helps them back to the other side--you know how this is going to end before it even begins.
A few familiar faces pop up in the cast, including HALLOWEEN's Scout Taylor-Compton and veteran character actor Geoffrey Lewis . . . but who did Ben Cross piss off to get stuck in this mess? He should bring a little class to the picture, hut his overwrought performance drags him down with the others.
If Dickensian-looking zombie kids give you nightmares, by all means watch this one with the lights out. If you're a little more hardened to the conventions of the genre, you've already seen this movie before, why repeat yourself?
Waaaaay back in the early weeks of this project (i.e. I'm too lazy to scroll back and figure out exactly when) I skewered a rotten piece of shot-on-video tripe called ZOMBIES GONE WILD. Look it up, if you haven't read it, it's one of the most virulent reviews I've ever written, and was it ever deserved; almost at the end of this blog it's still one of the worst movies I've ever seen, zombie or otherwise.
I mention this only because the Cohen Brothers (yes, you read that correctly) have returned with another shot-on-tape zombie flick called MOTOCROSS ZOMBIES FROM HELL, and while this 2007 production is better than WILD it's far from watchable. Director "G.R.", whoever he may be, learned a thing or two about the technical aspects of film-making since making WILD; maybe in 2010 he'll be able to tell a decent story.
MOTOCROSS is about, duh, a motocross racer, his mechanic/best pal, and their feisty gal pal (there's actually a love triangle introduced at the beginning, as the girl switches affections from one to the other, a "conflict" that smooths over remarkably well) who head out to the desert for an important weekend race. Unbeknownst to them, an unbeatable team is gearing up for the race as well, a team invincible because they're zombies (from hell--remember the title?). It's going to be a long weekend as our heroes must race not for a title or trophy, but their very souls. (Sorry about the overwrought description, it's very late and I'm typing like a madman.)
MOTOCROSS almost plays like a two-wheeled version of DUEL, as the zombie racers remain hidden behind helmets throughout their chase, though it certainly lacks the tension or craftsmanship of Spielberg's film. The desert pursuit eventually gives way to yet another NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD-inspired trapped-in-a-house finale, ruining the one thing that set this turkey apart.
The film's shot competently enough, although it's got the production values of a local car-dealership commercial that give it an unusually fake-looking veneer. The acting's not too bad, but the screenplay is saddled with "realistic" dialogue that stops the movie cold. (Dialogue in a film does not need to sound exactly like genuine conversation to be realistic; it's a plot device, so when one character conveys information to another, we don't need them to repeat to anyone else.) Further bogging down the picture are overly-strained conversations and far too much attention devoted to motocross minutiae (though racing enthusiasts might not mind), and the horror elements are too cheesy to be scary.
Like a lot of SOV flicks, MOTOCROSS ZOMBIES FROM HELL remains ignorant on the maintenance of suspense or plot-momentum, though it spares us a showcase for the filmmakers' egos. Perhaps beneficial to would-be directors as an example of what not to do, it's a lame-brained bore that's as dry and boring as the landscape it's set in.
When Zack Snyder's remake of DAWN OF THE DEAD proved to be a hit (not to mention a pretty good movie), nobody was too surprised to find that DAY OF THE DEAD was getting the redux treatment as well. Nobody was too excited either, especially when uber-hack Steve Miner (known for fair-to-middling genre fare like LAKE PLACID and HALLOWEEN: H20) was announced as director, but Hollywood has a tendency to carry on despite the outcry of fans. We just have to suck it up and pray it's not too disastrous.
The verdict? Thanks to the lowest expectations imaginable, it wasn't too heinous, yet the 2008 incarnation still manages to stumble over itself once the living dead start popping up (this film should settle the fast-vs.-slow zombie debate once and for all). It's at least better than DAY OF THE DEAD 2: CONTAGIUM, though a shattered testicle would be preferable to that cinematic atrocity.
Opting to remain an in-name-only remake, Miner's DAY centers on a tiny Colorado town hit by a zombie epidemic, and the paramilitary squad that leads the quarantine. Ultimately it leads to two parallel trapped-in-a-box scenarios as the various survivors (which include Mr. Mariah Carey Nick Cannon, scream queen Christa Campbell, and a what-the-hell's-she-doing-here star turn from Mena Suvari) try to keep the plague from spreading. Thanks to Miner's not-bad-but-not-great directorial hand it's actually fairly entertaining, but a reliance of hyper-fast zombies (exactly why/how do they crawl spider-like on the ceiling?) and BOURNE-inspired hand-held camerawork keeps it well within the bounds of mediocrity.
There are a couple of novel touches (such as zombies who continue to feed on a body stuck in an electrified fence) and Ving Rhames, in a bullshit ploy to establish continuity to Snyder's DAWN, elevates the proceedings with his extended cameo (yes, he is the best thing about this movie). The plethora of gore should please grue fans, though I really would like to see less CGI splatter--I realize it's cost-effective, but it looks like shit and leaves me cold. Suvari makes for a surprisingly capable action babe, though she's the only actor, aside from Rhames, who imbues any sense of humanity to their character, and even then it's strictly the B-movie bare minimum. I could at least tolerate the human members of the cast; I can't same for the vegetarian zombie "Bud" (puh-leeze!), who I found pretty goddamn stupid.
It doesn't make a lick of sense, but the 2008 DAY OF THE DEAD fares better than most of recent zombie films/horror retreads. Hampered with heavy exposition and wrong-headed action that sinks its third act, as well as a stupid ending, it'll never be mistaken for a genre classic. The highly undiscriminating or very merciful might find this works in a pinch; it helps not to think of this as anything remotely related to Romero.
I'll be perfectly honest with you, I can't tell if ENTER . . . ZOMBIE KING (also known as ZOMBIE BEACH PARTY) is a good movie or not, but I do know that it's a helluva fun little flick. Unlike most micro-budget productions, which try to make the best out of limited resources, ZOMBIE KING uses its financial restrictions to create its own cut-rate style, an aura of retro-kitsch cool that in of itself is worth the price of admission.
Packing an awful lot into 76 minutes, ENTER . . . ZOMBIE KING is somewhat difficult to summarize, but imagine the classic lucha libre films of the '60s mashed into the living dead universe of George Romero (who, incidentally, was originally slated to play the titular king) and you're on the right track. Mexican wrestling superstar and part-time crime-fighter Ulysses (Jules Delorme) sets out to investigate an outbreak of zombies in a sleepy beach community--which inexplicably is experiencing heavy snowfall--suspecting his old cohort Tiki (El Fuego) is behind it, as the latter's been on the wrasslin' circuit with a zombie-grappling act. (And this is only the A-story, folks.) But as Ulysses and his fellow do-gooders Mercedes and the Blue Saint (Jennifer Thom and Raymond Carle) delve deeper, they find the mastermind is much more than a fellow wrestler.
ZOMBIE KING has its share of flaws, such as plot that likes to meander at its own pace and predilection for redundant dialogue, but director Bill Marks compensates with a rollicking second act that features plenty of zombie-wrestling, the quest for justice and revenge, and a bevy of pin-up worthy females, all backed with a groovy surf-rock soundtrack. As I said earlier, the low budget forces concessions upon the filmmakers--such as the climactic battle fought in a local playground--but this adds to the movie's lunacy, giving it a singular feel that will enamor bad-movie fans everywhere. (This is one of those rare examples that capture the spirit of Ed Wood beautifully without getting mired in intentional idiocy.)
ENTER . . . ZOMBIE KING will probably turn away as many viewers as it turns on, but I had a damned good time and I won't hesitate to recommend it. The perfect centerpiece to your retro-themed Halloween party. (Oh, and I can't wait for the sequel, THE CURSE OF THE IRON MASK.)
In the days before home video there were several filmmakers who were essentially regional moguls, folks like Charles B. Pierce, Earl Owensby and Worth Keeter, or today's director, Don Dohler, who financed, produced, and distributed motion pictures far from the Hollywood system. With the internet age and the ease of acquiring decent home-video equipment (not to mention studios like Lionsgate, who'll dump any amateur production on DVD regardless of competence), I'm surprised there aren't more of them today; maybe there are, and are simply toiling in obscurity, justified or otherwise.
Dohler, a Maryland-based filmmaker, made no-budget pictures until his death in 2006, but he's best known for his horror/sci-fi offerings of the early '80s. FIEND was only his second picture, and boy does it show. Though the 1980 production possesses the same low-rent charm that graced (if that's the word) similar early works by Fred Olen Ray and Larry Buchanan, its mind-bogglingly inept story ruins any chance of a fun, horrific romp.
The story gets underway when a shoddy optical effect--really, what the hell is that supposed to be? It looks like a large, disembodied eyeball--resurrects a corpse in a local cemetery, turning him into a lumbering zombie with glowing red hands. (Yeah, I know Dohler couldn't have afforded Industrial Light and Magic, but at least the poor photographic effects give it a fleeting bad-movie energy.) Now, this could've been a good starting point for a movie, even one as financially-challenged as this one, but Dohler allows too many questions to pop up.
Like, who is this guy, and what is he really supposed to be? What is he after, and how does killing innocent women help accomplish his goal? And most importantly, how does a reanimated corpse buy a house and establish a music school?
I suppose with the right verve and tempo a film could make me forget those questions, but FIEND doesn't have it. A crashing bore of a picture, it spends more time with the dead guy poring over sales records with his lackey or grooving to New Age tunes than . . . whatever it is undead music teachers do. Seriously, Dohler films this guy feeding his cat with the same intensity as the murders.
Now that I've written this review, I think I know why there aren't that many regional producers anymore.
This 2004 micro-budget production might've been worth checking out if it made a genuine attempt to bring the horrors of the living dead into an inner-city environment; using zombies as a metaphor for, say, the drug epidemic or the hopelessness many of its residents feel would've been a rich vein to tap, even with the atrocious acting and horrendous shot-on-video quality.
But directors Jose and Eduardo Quiroz decided instead to make RE-ANIMATOR IN THA HOOD, even throwing in the well-known Day-Glo green serum, and gladly trot out every ghetto stereotype imaginable. (That the filmmakers are minorities made me wonder why they didn't at least try to balance them out with three-dimensional characters.) The end result, which boasts "zombies" consisting of extras with mouthfuls of red dye, is too ridiculous to be taken seriously, much less be scary.
