Handy rule of thumb for any flick: if Uwe Boll pops up in the beginning to warn you – even facetiously – that the movie you’re watching is piece of shit, take his word for it. That guy knows a horrible film when it drops a fresh Cleveland steamer on his face.
Troma’s Zombiegeddon is wretched even when grading on Troma’s depressed curve. I’m not expecting Lloyd Kaufman’s schlock factory to start toting around Oscars for cinematography, but there are large chunks of dialogue in Chris Watson’s film that are drowned out by cicadas. Shots inexplicably shift from night to day between takes. And in one scene, the entire crew is clearly reflected in the screen of a television. I’m just saying, at least pretend for our sakes that you’re trying to make something resembling an actual movie. And the boxed story narrative of local talk radio host Laura Reynolds relating the take of the zombie assault on Tromaville adds very little other than padding it out to the bare minimum for a feature film.
The least Watson could have done was fulfill the title’s promise because there’s definite dearth of ’geddon and almost as little zombie in this movie.
Zombology: According to Zombiegeddon’s obtuse mythology, Satan created zombies to wipe out the human race. The zombies look like ordinary people (probably more for budgetary reasons than narrative) and walk among us until the time comes for them to strike. Only those of God’s chosen bloodline have the wherewithal to end the uprising. Hopefully he shows up in time. I know. I found that needlessly complicated too. And zombies can do kung fu. And heave when winded. And can be choked out with a sleeper hold.
Like just about any Troma film, the best(?) part of Zombiegeddon is playing a game of spot the cameo. Tom Savini, playing a man who claims to be Jesus, has the brains to know better than to appear in such dreck. Joe Estevez, playing Satan’s favorite zombie sidekick and possibly gay lover, lacks the dignity to know any better. Christ, can Martin Sheen use some pull to help a brother out?
Because it scrimps on the zombie chills, we’re forced to endure Zombiegeddon’s futile attempts at sub-Killer Tomatoes levels of humor. Pretty much every joke boils down to: “Lulz ur ghey.” With the witty riposte: “Nuh uh, ur ghey-er.” The relentless homophobia largely comes from Cage and Jeff, two dirty cops who spend the bulk of the movie driving around Tromaville gunning down innocent bystanders rather than actually fighting crime or addressing the zombie outbreak that seems to center around the local junior college. But honestly, who really cares about the plot of a Troma film?
I can conceive of theoretical physicists who may have a perverse incentive to study Zombiegeddon’s inexplicable ability to make 75 minutes feel like two hours. But for everyone else, avoid like a zombie outbreak. This film is 96 percent as bad as Hell of the Living Dead.