Judge David Johnson is happy to say that all zombies in this movie were at least the age of 18 at the time of filming.
All they wanted was to score…they didn't expect to get eaten too!
Okay, Zombie Movie Review #123,456. Zombies Gone Wild is fashioned as a spring break comedy meets zombie gore film, but the end result is something closer to the feverish rantings of a 12-year-old.
Three idiot friends, Marty, Randy and Leroy, pile into a crappy van and head to a secret location for a killer spring break party, where they hope all of their horny desires will be fulfilled. And when I say idiots, I mean idiots, fools in the Biblical sense of the word (Proverbs 26:11—As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool returneth to his folly). The trio's road trip takes them through shoddy motel rooms to questionable strip clubs and finally to a pair of attractive women with cryptic backgrounds. So begins their foray into zombie-mania, and a mysterious town infested with the undead.
First off, this movie is one of the worst-looking pieces of cinema I've seen in a long, long time. The camera set-ups are awful, the scenes are poorly construed, actors are often out of frame, and the whole production just reeks of bush league. Or worse. What's worse than "bush league?" Gore league? Whatever the correct term for "total amateur crap," apply it to the execution of Zombies Gone Wild.
That being said, I have to confess: this piece of junk is actually pretty funny. I don't know how these guys did it, but their rampant stupidity brought a periodic smile to myself, and dare I say it, elicited a chortle or two. The comedy is of the base, sophomoric type, uttered in stream-of-consciousness dialogue delivery. I'd actually be surprised to see proof of a physical script. Mainly, the entire film is comprised of the three guys sitting around talking @#$%.
In a good move by writer/director G.R. (er, G.R.?), he "wrote" these characters as screw-ups and jack-asses, not obnoxious frat boys who think they're funny. Nope, these three are the real deal and their authentic idiocy was the right call for a movie as lowbrow and low-budget as this. And it is lowbrow. Besides the revolting dialogue, these guys fantasize about depraved sex, get coated with runoff from a mangled port-a-potty and spend a disturbing amount of time covered in their own vomit. It's that kind of humor straight through, which, if it isn't your bag, you'll most certainly prefer outpatient surgery over sitting through it all. Heck, that will probably apply to most of you anyway. This dumb kind of humor managed to slightly amuse me, but I'll be the first to submit that the godforsaken production values need a whole lot of positive vibes to compensate for their poor showing.
Finally, about the gore…um, there really isn't any. The zombies show for the last 40 minutes or so and do a lot of lumbering around and moaning, and a lot of cast members end up soaked in the red stuff, but that's it for the undead mayhem. There isn't anything for gore-hounds here. The make-up, however, is pretty good considering the bargain basement production. Oh, and the movie's too long, by about 20 minutes. A buck-forty for homegrown hooey like this is just too much to digest.
Full frame, 2.0 stereo, nothing to see here. In the bonus bin: outtakes, behind-the-scenes footage, and a step-by-step how-to guide on making zombie alcoholic drinks.
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Scales of Justice
Studio: Westlake Entertainment
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