The top ten zombie films

It's difficult to reconcile the Zack Snyder who directed "Dawn of the Dead" with the Zack Snyder who brought us the #SnyderCut "Justice League," the far-too-faithful "Watchmen" adaptation, and the style-over-substance combo of "300" and "Sucker Punch."

The 2004 version, which is based on the 1978 version by George Romero and was directed by Zack Snyder, is not, however, boring. The first twelve minutes are a career-launching assault, with one of the best opening title sequences in the history of the genre. People often compare "Dawn of the Dead" to Danny Boyle's "28 Days Later" because both movies have a lot of fast zombies. This prologue is a great, fast-paced contrast to that picture.

The opening minutes of "Dawn of the Dead" are the film's high point, and although the rest of the picture never matches up to them, future "Guardians of the Galaxy" director James Gunn's script keeps things fascinating. By eschewing Romero's societal critique and developing his own unique take on the zombie genre, Snyder was able to escape the tragedy that was certain to follow his following interpretation of Alan Moore's works and the DC universe.

And Netflix's "Army of the Dead" in 2021 will bring him back to that corner.

Set in a zombie-filled wasteland after the end of the world caused by the mysterious street drug "Natas." We follow one man as he hunts down Flesh Eaters for fun and to make up for his past mistakes.

Following his collision with a small group of survivors who are rapidly running out of supplies, he makes the decision to help. A sudden assault by the flesh-eating Flesh Eaters forces them to flee and tests the Hunter's abilities.

The trailer for Zombie Hunter seems to be the kind of gruesome B-movie fun that everyone would enjoy. We're interested to see how filmmaker K. King manages to pay respect to the grindhouse aesthetic of films like Machete and Planet Terror. The marketing team did an outstanding job with the eye-catching poster.


In Little Monsters, Lupita Nyong'o, an actress known for her somber plays, takes on a more lighthearted character. She may be teaching a kindergarten class that meets a zombie outbreak while on a field trip, but it appears like she's having a blast. The 2019 movie was the actress's second foray into the horror genre that year (the first being Jordan Peele's more well-known "Us").

However, she is more than capable of completing the assignment. The video is "dedicated to all of the kindergarten teachers who push children to study, imbue them with confidence, and save them from being eaten by zombies," as the official press notes characterize it. Yes, I believe that adequately explains everything. In "Little Monsters," Josh Gad plays an annoying, famous child entertainer, and Alexander England plays an effete, has-been musician who is escorting his nephew on a field trip and who also happens to be in love (or maybe lust) with Lupita Nyong'o. Both of these characters are accompanied by Nyong'o. "Little Monsters" was released in 2014.

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

Since that time, zombies have not shown any signs of slowing down. (There are even reports that some of them have learned how to run.) The Walking Dead is an easy giant to point towards, but in the realm of cinema, zombies have made their way into found footage films (like "REC"), romantic comedies (like "Warm Bodies"), and grindhouse throwbacks (like "The Walking Dead") (Planet Terror).

Simultaneously, a global subgenre sprung developed in response to Romero's works.

The Italian horror maestro Lucio Fulci took the idea and ran with it, first with Zombi 2 (aka Zombi) and then with his far more strange and experimental "Gates of Hell" trilogy.

Fans of Romero's work who built on his foundation, such as filmmakers Dan O'Bannon, Fred Dekker, and Stuart Gordon, toyed with the genre's constructs, exploring and broadening what a zombie movie might be. The popularity of zombies quickly faded after that.

The creature had become an important part of the horror genre, but outside of ongoing horror sequels (like Return of the Living Dead and Zombie) and the occasional genre oddity (like My Boyfriend's Back, Cemetery Man, and Dead Alive), the dead no longer walked the earth.

Where to start? White Zombie was the first feature-length "zombie" horror film, popularizing Haitian voodoo zombies decades before George Romero.

White Zombie is easy to find now because it is in the public domain and has been included in almost every cheap package of zombie movies ever put together. If you want, you can watch its 67-minute runtime on YouTube. Bela Lugosi, who had just played Dracula a year earlier and was enjoying his fame as one of Universal's go-to horror actors, plays a witch doctor named "Murder" because the studio hadn't discovered subtlety yet.

Svengali-like Lugosi uses his potions and powders to zombify an engaged lady, aiming to submit her to the will of a sadistic plantation owner. It's dry, wooden stuff. Lugosi is the bright point, but you had to start. After White Zombie, Hollywood produced voodoo zombie movies for years, most of which are now in the public domain.

Of course, the film had an impact on Rob Zombie's musical venture. Some "best zombie movie" lists prominently include it, but let's face it: in 2016, this isn't a film that most people would like. This object ranks fifty on the list almost exclusively because of its historical significance.

Planet Terror is the better half of the Grindhouse double-bill that Robert Rodriguez concocted with Quentin Tarantino. Planet Terror tells the story of a go-go dancer, a bioweapon gone awry, and Texan townsfolk turned into shuffling, pustulous monsters. Planet Terror was directed by Robert Rodriguez. Planet Terror has its exploding tongue firmly entrenched in its rotten cheek, leaning strongly upon its B-movie heritage, with missing reels, rough cuts, and hammy overdubbed dialogue.

It builds to a crazily entertaining conclusion in which Rose McGowan's protagonist, Cherry Darling, gets her amputated leg replaced with a machine gun. I'm going to consume your brains and absorb your information.

Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead seems to include some of the hallmarks of a Troma picture. It'll be a heap of junk. It's going to be bloody. There will be no restrictions or regard for aesthetics. The real question, like with every other Troma film, is whether you find it boring. In this scenario, the correct answer is "absolutely not."

For a musical promoted as a "zom-com," if that makes any sense, the social satire of consumer culture is very subtle. Why are you, on the other hand, watching a film about zombie chickens invading a KFC-style restaurant built on top of a Native American burial ground? I don't believe so. Accepting the violence, scatological humor, and low production standards as part of the pleasure, as well as a respect for the haphazard plot, is required for a Troma watching.

As a result, Poultrygeist is just 103 minutes of dirty, vile, raunchy madness.

While zombie movies have existed for more than 80 years (in 1932 we had White Zombie, in 1943 I Walked With a Zombie), it’s largely recognized the subgenre as we know it today didn’t develop until 1968, when George A. Romero released Night of the Living Dead.

Night, an indie picture with a budget little around six figures, captivated spectators with its cryptic storyline, startling violence, progressive casting and social criticism, and, of course, its iconic hordes of gaunt, ravenous zombies. The greatest of Romero's five more Dead films, including Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead, are presented in this guide. Romero is considered the godfather of zombie films.

Despite Night of the Living Dead's impact, it was not until the late 1970s and notably the 1980s that a massive wave of notable American zombie films emerged. Shortly before Dawn of the Dead boosted the popularity of zombies as horror adversaries, Shock Waves may have been the first "Nazi zombie" film.

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!

At least 16 Nazi zombie movies have been produced since then, which is probably more than most people realize. This one is notable at the very least for being the first to combine the portmanteau of famous cinematic villains. More Nazi zombie movies have been created since then than most people (updated post) realize.

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

Colm McCarthy's adaptation of Mike Carey's book The Girl With All The Gifts is a brilliant and nuanced remake, with genre thrills to match.

Similar to the sickness that wiped out mankind in The Last of Us, a fungal infection is responsible for this epidemic of zombieism. The narrative revolves on Melanie, a young girl educated in an unconventional manner by Gemma Arterton's character, Helen, in a very guarded facility.

Melanie is a "second-generation" vampire; she desires human blood but is also capable of cognition and emotion, and her mere presence may hold the key to survival.

This gore-fest takes the standard zombie and gives it a Scandinavian twist by including the Draugr, a legendary undead monster from Scandinavian mythology known for its ferocious devotion to protecting its hoard of gold. In Dead Snow, these draugr are really ex-SS troopers who harassed a Norwegian hamlet and stole from its citizens before being killed or driven into the snowy mountains.

I have to give Dead Snow credit for inventiveness here. It has aspects of Evil Dead and "teen sex/slasher" movies, and it's hilarious, bloody, and satisfyingly brutal. In addition, Dead Snow: Red vs. Dead is the sequel, so fans can expect even more of the same.

The Dead Next Door is one of those rare movies when the tale behind the movie is more interesting than the movie itself. The film was produced by Sam Raimi, who used the profits from Evil Dead II to help his friend J. R. Bookwalter realize his vision of a low-budget zombie epic. Despite the fact that the whole picture seems to have been redubbed in post-production, Raimi is listed as an executive producer under the moniker "The Master Cylinder," and Evil Dead's Bruce Campbell does double duty by providing the narration for not one but two different characters. Even without considering the fact that the whole picture was filmed on super 8 rather than 32 mm, it's clear that this contributes to The Dead Next Door's air of dreamy unreality.

Therefore, what you have in The Dead Next Door is something that cannot be found in other works of the same genre: A grainy, low-budget zombie action-drama that has a blend of amateur acting performances that make you grimace and surprising moments of professionalism all at the same time.

Forget about the plot; you're just here for the blood and guts. You're not watching this for the narrative, which involves a "elite team" of zombie exterminators who stumble into a cult that worships zombies. At points, The Dead Next Door resembles a low-budget effort to recreate Peter Jackson's Dead Alive, complete with the film's trademark deranged bloodletting and laughably obvious genre allusions. The movie seems like it was produced so the cast and crew could get some experience with actual blood effects and beheadings. Those names "Dr. Savini" and "Officer Raimi" come to mind. What's up, "Commander Carpenter"?

They're all here, in a zombie movie that seems like it was never intended to be watched by anybody other than the director's family. Even yet, there's a certain fascination to that degree of lousy familiarity.

It's incredible to see how popular zombie movies have become. For a long time, monsters were primarily found in the worlds of Voodoo mythology, radioactive humanoids, and E.C. comics' famous images. Zombies were not always the cannibalistic, flesh-eating undead we've come to know and love.

Cemetery Man (also known as Dellamorte Dellamore) is a weird, hallucinogenic journey directed by Dario Argento's student Michele Soavi, who presents the undead as more of an inconvenience than a dangerous threat. In Cemetery Man, a cinematic version of the comic book series Dylan Dog, Everett portrays Francesco Dellamorte, a misanthropic gravedigger who would rather be among the dead than with living people. Why wouldn't he, you could ask? Living people are jerks for propagating the lie that he is infertile.

But there's a catch: the dead refuses to be buried in his own cemetery. Dellamorte meets a lovely widow (Falchi) during her husband's funeral and falls in love with her. They end up boiling it up on her husband's grave after wooing her in the dreary halls of his ossuary. It just gets weirder from here.

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