The DVD box says it’s “The best independent horror movie of the year.” and “…the U.S. answer to Shaun of the Dead.” Lemmie tell you, I’ve seen Shaun of the Dead, and this drivel is no Shaun of the Dead.
Normally, I’m a fan of horror-comedy, and I could see the potential. However that potential was ritually mutilated and sacrificed and unlike many of the characters in this celluloid shit stain, it could not come back from the dead. I knew I was in for something truly awful when Erik Palladino spends what feels like five or six minutes skidding, slipping, sliding and falling in a kitchen full of Diedrich Bader’s blood. The film was even speeded up to highten the whole “Keystone Corpse” feel. I only felt relief that I would not have to listen to Bader’s rediculous French accent any longer.
The defining moment however is when the reanimated dead (they’re definately not zombies) surrounding the house do a Thriller like dance to a (I kid you not) country/rap song performed live by the reanimated band (whose singer is the greek chorus like singing narrator of the film) called “We’re comin to kill ya.”
Sadly the song is very catchy, and will be stuck in my head, perhaps forever, filed right next to “Scotty doesn’t know” Here I’ll share a snippet of the sublime lyrics with you.
“Blood is as sweet as moonshine whiskey,
Join our side, you can drank some with me.
We want guts to spill, you know they’re dead
Cause we feel so alive when we kill, kill, kill.”
My only recourse at this point is a chemical lobotomy, so please in the name of Og and all that’s holy, do not see this film.
Jack
wanders off singing “We’re comin to kill ya, comin to kill ya, comin to kill ya”