Die You Zombie Bastards! is a great title for a movie. It lures you with the promise of a wholesale massacre of zombies. Woe be unto you, you hapless soul, if you saw this movie without first reading a description of it. Even the one I read gave me some hope:
“Red, a serial killer and cannibal, battles against an evil bent on filling the world with Zombies.”
But to be honest, I was already enticed by the title alone. For my pains, I was rewarded with a cruel, visual bludgeoning of this campy farce. At every turn, it tried to overact, over-ham, over-gross, over-digest, or otherwise to leave its audience with an icky feeling: they would be better off without their eyeballs. It was bad for the sake of being bad, awful for the sake of being awful, and it somehow made full-frontal nudity an eyesore of a memory.
General moviegoers might be under the impression that zombie movie fans have a higher tolerance for awful plots and terrible dialog, all for the sake of watching some gore on the screen. But that’s not the case. We can be as deeply disappointed as the next guy when we are served up a heaping portion of swill.
Yet, even after watching this tragedy, I still want to buy a t-shirt with the film title emblazoned on the chest. And I can’t get that accursed theme song out of my head.
