First of all, I'd like to appologize to my readers (if I have any,) for my lacking activity in November. It has its perfectly natural explanations, which is:
Yeah, I wrote 50,000 words in one month, which needless to say did distract me a smidge from my blogging duties. With that said, I did also watch a zombie flick I felt obligated to share. The flick in question is Zombie Strippers, yup, you read it right y'all, Zombie Strippers. If my comments about zombies and our favorite milk-based breadblesser ever fit better than this, I'd be darned. Now, right of the bat, this might seem a bit odd. Rotting flesh and taking of ones clothes for money doesn't seem like a viable combination, now does it?
First impressions of the concept aside, I decided to watch this movie solely for the heck out of it, I was motivated by the same insanity that grips me every time I see the cover of an Uwe Boll movie, or Ed Wood, for that matter. It turns out, though, that the movie is a lot of fun, even if it Is stupider than a homeschooled chimpanzee.
The story goes like so: George W Bush has been re-elected for the umpteenth time and has banned public nudity and gone to war with most of the middle east, Canada and France. To provide troops for these neverending conflincts, W Labs has invented a virus that turns dead soliders into mindless supertroops, or Zombies to be more precise. Now, the virus breaks out and contaminates an underground strip club, things get really nasty really quick.
The funny thing about this... thing, is that the infected strippers doesn't become grotesque flesh-eating abominations, but rather... grotesquely sexy flesh-eating abominations. Y'see, the virus is less degenerating when infecting women, and the muscle memory of the strippers allows them to preform more violently sexy due to a complete lack of fear, shame or self-preservation instinct. Or something like that, bottom line is: Women get creepy and sexy when zombiefied while men just turns into zombies, like we all know and love 'em.
I'm debating with myself to what degree this actually is meant to be a witty commentary on society and sexual morale or an infantile attempt to allure our attention with tits and gore. I'd like to think it is the former, but the ammount of time the movie seems to divulge in the noble art of "showing as much nudity as they can get away with," really makes me doubt. Also, there's some rather blatant "why was that neccesary" moments, one of which involves, shall one say... alternative ways to propel pool balls at high speed. After specifying that we're talking about superpowered female monsterthingies, I'll leave the rest up to you to find out.
Also, Robert Englund is in this movie, which is a definitive selling point for me, even though it does seem like he's not doing the type of role he should be doing. The Germaphobic Ian seems more like comic relief, not that any is needed amidst the waves of "so bad it's good" dialouge and general cheesy sillyness. I can't help but notice a trend here, the two last movies I've seen him do, he's been a smidge too silly for his own good. Where did the freaky guy who played Freddy, or Doc Halloran for that matter, go?
Zombie Strippers isn't a movie for everyone, that's true, but if you like cheese with your whine, you should load this thing up.