How to Live in a World Full of Zombies From what the Films

It's impossible to reconcile the Zack Snyder of the #SnyderCut "Justice League," the far-too-faithful "Watchmen" adaption, and the style over substance pair of "300" and "Sucker Punch" with the filmmaker of "Dawn of the Dead."

The 2004 version, directed by Zack Snyder and based on the 1978 original by George Romero, is not, however, without of flair. The first twelve minutes are a career-launching assault, including one of the finest opening title sequences in the genre's canon. Because of the prevalence of fast zombies in both films, many people draw comparisons between "Dawn of the Dead" and Danny Boyle's "28 Days Later." This prologue provides a great kinetic counterpoint to that picture.

The remainder of "Dawn of the Dead" never quite reaches the heights of its opening sequence, but the writing by future "Guardians of the Galaxy" director James Gunn keeps things fascinating throughout. It should be emphasized that replicating a classic was a formula for catastrophe (something that Snyder would again risk when tackling Alan Moore and the whole DC world), but by forsaking Romero's social criticism, Snyder was able to carve out his own niche in the cinematic zombie realm.

He hopes to return to this genre area in 2021 with Netflix's "Army of the Dead."

The action takes place in a post-apocalyptic zombie wasteland brought about by the unknown street drug known as "Natas." As the story progresses, we follow one guy as he hunts Flesh Eaters for fun and atonement while also attempting to escape his past.

After running upon a small band of survivors who were running low on supplies, he decided to pitch in and assist. The Flesh Eaters, however, have launched an unexpected onslaught, and the Hunter's skills have been put to the test.

Zombie Hunter seems to be a satisfyingly nasty B-movie — after all, who doesn't like to watch Danny Trejo fight swarms of zombies in slow motion? Director K. King looks to be aiming for a Machete/Planet Terror-style grindhouse atmosphere, so we're looking forward to seeing how it pans out. With the beautiful poster, the marketing team has surely nailed it.


Little Monsters is a surprising film by Lupita Nyong'o, who is known for her serious parts. But she seems to be having a great time as the teacher of a kindergarten class that faces a zombie outbreak on a field trip. The 2019 picture marked the actress' second, though lesser-known, foray into the horror genre that year (the other being Jordan Peele's "Us").

But she is definitely up to the challenge. According to the official press materials, the movie is "dedicated to all the kindergarten teachers who inspire kids to learn, give them confidence, and keep them from being eaten by zombies." Yes, that pretty much says it all. Josh Gad plays an annoying, famous child entertainer, and Alexander England plays a snobby, washed-up musician who is taking his nephew on a field trip and is in love (or maybe just lust) with Lupita Nyong'o.

It's a horror-romantic comedy mix that energizes both genres.

The zombie pandemic has persisted unabatedly since then. Few individuals have perfected the skill of running. The most known example is The Walking Dead on television, although zombies have also featured in found footage films ([REC]), romantic comedies ([REC]), and grindhouse homages (Warm Bodies) (Planet Terror).

Meanwhile, in reaction to Romero's works, a global subgenre arose.

Lucio Fulci, an Italian horror legend, took the idea and ran with it in his own way, first with Zombi 2 (also called Zombie) and then with his much stranger and more experimental "Gates of Hell" trilogy.

Fans of Romero's work expanded atop his base to further explore and broaden what a zombie movie might be. Filmmakers like Dan O'Bannon, Fred Dekker, and Stuart Gordon came along and messed with the genre constructions. The zombie then went out of style as soon as it had exploded.

Outside of continuous horror sequels (Return of the Living Dead, Zombie), low-budget fright pictures, and the rare genre oddity (My Boyfriend's Back, Cemetery Man, and Dead Alive), the undead no longer roamed the earth.

Where else should we start? White Zombie was the first feature-length "zombie" horror film, as well as the first Hollywood popularization of Haitian voodoo zombies, decades before the current George Romero ghoul.

White Zombie is a public domain mainstay in just about every cheapo zombie film bundle. You can watch its 67-minute length on YouTube if you wish. Bela Lugosi, fresh off Dracula and Universal's go-to horror talent, portrays a witch doctor titled "Murder" since the company had yet to find subtlety.

The Svengali-like Lugosi uses his various concoctions and powders to turn an engaged young lady into a zombie in an effort to submit her to the will of a cruel plantation owner, and... well, it's pretty dry, wooden stuff. Predictably, Lugosi is the one bright light, but one must begin somewhere. After White Zombie, Hollywood sporadically produced voodoo zombie films for years, the most of which are now in the public domain.

Obviously, the film affected Rob Zombie's musical endeavors as well. Some "best zombie film" lists include it prominently, but let's be honest: in 2016, most viewers would not like this film. This object is ranked fifty on the list almost exclusively owing of its historical value.

Planet Terror is the better half of Robert Rodriguez's Grindhouse double-bill with Quentin Tarantino, telling the tale of a go-go dancer, a botched bioweapon, and Texan townspeople transformed into shuffling, pustulous creatures. Planet Terror has its exploding tongue firmly entrenched in its rotten cheek, leaning heavily towards its B-movie heritage with missing reels, rough editing, and hammy overdubbed dialogue.

Its over-the-top gore and oozing effects are repulsive, and it builds to a wildly hilarious ending in which Rose McGowan's heroine has her leg replaced by a machine gun. I'll devour your brains for information.

Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead seems to have some of the typical elements of a Troma film. It'll be a whole pile of garbage. It'll get quite bloody. There will be no limits or consideration for aesthetics. Just as with every other Troma picture, the true question is whether or not you find it dull. In this case, "definitely not" is the appropriate response.

The social satire of consumer society is quite subtle for a musical marketed as a "zom-com," if that makes any sense. Why, however, are you sitting in a movie about undead chickens who invade a KFC-like restaurant located on top of a Native American burial ground? Don't think so. Accepting the violence, scatological jokes, and shoddy production standards as part of the fun is essential to a Troma viewing, as does an appreciation for the thoughtless storyline.

Poultrygeist is nasty, gruesome, filthy lunacy.

While zombie films have been around for more than 80 years (White Zombie was released in 1932, and I Walked With a Zombie was released in 1943), it is widely believed that the subgenre as we know it today did not emerge until 1968, when George A. Romero released Night of the Living Dead.

Night, an independent movie with a budget just over six figures, captivated viewers with its unsettling story, horrific violence, progressive casting, criticism of society, and, of course, its iconic hordes of gaunt, ravenous zombies. Romero is the undisputed master of zombie movies. He made five more movies in the Dead series, and we'll look at the best ones here.

Despite the effect of Night of the Living Dead, it took some time for the film to simmer and gain significance in the public's consciousness before a swarm of famous American zombie films appeared in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Shock Waves was maybe the first of the "Nazi zombie" flicks, appearing soon before Dawn of the Dead, which significantly increased the popularity of zombies as horror foes.

Throughout the most of its duration, it's a dismal, slow-paced thriller about a group of lost boaters who wind themselves on a mystery island where a submerged SS submarine has abandoned its crew of zombies, a Nazi experiment. The same year he sneered at Princess Leia in Star Wars: Episode III, Hammer Horror icon Peter Cushing appears as a poorly miscast and addled-looking SS Commander. It's difficult to comprehend that there is a New Hope!

There have been at least 16 Nazi zombie movies made since this point, which is certainly more than one might be aware of, which makes this one fairly significant at least for combining the portmanteau of great film villains for the first time. There have also been many more Nazi zombie movies made since this point than one might be aware of.

Shock Waves is ultimately responsible for the success of films like the Dead Snow trilogy.

It takes a lot to produce a really original zombie picture, but Colm McCarthy's adaptation of Mike Carey's book The Girl With All the Gifts is a brilliant and insightful reworking that still has genre thrills to add. The film is based on the novel by the same name.

The Last of Us-like fungal infection has transformed most of the populace into 'hungries' The plot centers on Melanie, who is taught by Gemma Arterton's instructor Helen in a heavily-armed institution.

Melanie is a'second-generation' hungry; she desires human flesh but also has the ability to think and feel, and her sheer existence may hold the key to survival.

This splatterfest adds features of the Draugr, an undead beast from Scandinavian legend that zealously defends its treasure trove, to the standard zombie. In the case of Dead Snow, these draugr are former SS troopers who tormented and robbed a Norwegian town until being done in or driven into the frigid mountains by the inhabitants themselves.

Definitely a point for Dead Snow's originality there. It has elements of "teen sex/slasher" flicks and the "Evil Dead," yet it's also quite funny, disgusting, and satisfyingly brutal. The movie is enjoyable all around. In addition, if you like the first installment, Dead Snow, the tale will continue in Dead Snow 2: Red vs. Dead.

The history of a film might be more fascinating than the film itself, and this is the case with The Dead Next Door. Sam Raimi used the money from Evil Dead II to bankroll its development, allowing his friend J. R. Bookwalter to achieve his concept of a low-budget zombie epic. The whole film seems to have been redubbed in post-production, and for some reason, Raimi is credited as an executive producer under the alias "The Master Cylinder," while Evil Dead's Bruce Campbell serves as the voiceover for not one, but two characters. Because of this, The Dead Next Door exudes a dreamy surrealism, and that's before we even get to the fact that it was filmed completely on Super 8 rather than 32 mm film.

What you have with The Dead Next Door, then, is a genre-exclusive innovation. A grainy, low-budget zombie action-drama that simultaneously features cringe-inducing amateur acting and surprising hints of polish.

The story is about a "elite team" of zombie killers who find a cult that worships zombies, but you don't watch this one for the plot, you watch it for the gore. The Dead Next Door seems to have been made just as a way to practice practical blood effects and beheadings. At times, it feels like a backyard attempt to copy the crazy bloodletting in Peter Jackson's Dead Alive, but with genre references that are so obvious you can't help but laugh. "Dr. Savini"? "Officer Raimi"? "Commander Carpenter"?

They are all there in a zombie picture that seems like it was never intended for anybody other than the director's family. Nonetheless, there is an unsettling appeal to this degree of poor familiarity.

The journey of zombie films into the mainstream has been remarkable. Outside of Voodoo legend, radioactive humanoids, and the memorable imagery of E.C. comics, the monsters didn't have much of a presence or description for decades. Zombies weren't employed very often, and when they were, they weren't anything like the cannibalistic, flesh-hungry undead monsters we know and love today.

Cemetery Man, directed by Dario Argento protégé Michele Soavi, depicts the living dead as a nuisance rather than a danger. Cemetery Man is based on the comic strip Dylan Dog and stars Everett as a misanthropic gravedigger. Why not? Living scum propagate accusations he's impotent.

But there is a catch: the dead person won't stay in the cemetery where he was buried. Dellamorte falls in love with Falchi, a beautiful woman he meets at the funeral of her husband. After getting to know each other in the dark hallways of his ossuary, they make out on read... her husband's grave. From here on out, things get stranger.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *