Why these are the best ten zombie flicks ever made

The Zack Snyder of the "Justice League" #SnyderCut, the far-too-faithful "Watchmen adaption," and the style over substance pair of "300" and "Sucker Punch" are fairly tough to reconcile with the Zack Snyder who directed "Dawn of the Dead."

Which is not to argue that Zack Snyder's 2004 adaptation of George Romero's 1978 picture with the same title has any sense of aesthetic. The first twelve minutes of the film act as an opening salvo for his career and include one of the most impressive opening title sequences in the annals of the genre's history. This introduction provides a fantastic dynamic counterpoint to the movie that "Dawn of the Dead" is sometimes linked to: Danny Boyle's "28 Days Later," mostly because to the involvement of zombies that are referred to as "quick."

The rest of "Dawn of the Dead" doesn't live up to the first few minutes, but the script by "Guardians of the Galaxy" director-to-be James Gunn keeps things interesting. It should be said that remaking a masterpiece was a recipe for disaster (something Snyder would do again when he took on Alan Moore's work and the whole DC universe), but by ignoring Romero's social commentary, Snyder was able to carve out his own corner of the zombie movie universe.

With Netflix's "Army of the Dead," he hopes to return to the genre in 2021.

Natas causes a post-apocalyptic zombie wasteland. One guy hunts Flesh Eaters for fun and atonement while escaping his past.

He chooses to help after colliding with a small group of survivors who are running short on supplies. However, a sudden onslaught by the Flesh Eaters compels them to flee, putting the Hunter's talents to the test.

Zombie Hunter looks like a fun, bloody B-movie. I mean, who doesn't want to watch Danny Trejo fight hordes of zombies in slow motion? Director K. King seems to be going for a "grindhouse throwback" style like Machete or Planet Terror, so we're interested to see how that will turn out. With the stylish poster, the marketing team has done a great job.


Lupita Nyong'o, an actress who normally shines in serious parts, surprised everyone with her performance in the movie Little Monsters, which was released in 2014. However, it seems like she is having a great time playing the role of a kindergarten teacher whose class is on a field trip when they come across an epidemic of zombies. In 2019, the actress appeared in another horror movie, although this one was far less well-known than her last one, which was Jordan Peele's high-profile picture "Us." The film was released in 2019.

But I'm certain she can manage it. According to the official press materials, the film is "dedicated to all kindergarten teachers who encourage children to study, instill confidence in them, and rescue them from being devoured by zombies." And I believe that's about all. In "Little Monsters," Alexander England plays an effete, has-been musician who falls in love (or maybe lust) with Lupita Nyong'o, while Josh Gad plays an obnoxious, recognized child performer.

The result is a unique combination of horror and romantic comedy that breathes fresh life into both genres.

Since then, zombies have showed no signs of abating. (Some have even learned how to run.) The Walking Dead is an easy giant to point to, but zombies have also appeared in discovered footage ([REC]), rom-coms (Warm Bodies), and grindhouse throwbacks (Planet Terror).

In the meanwhile, a global subgenre emerged in reaction to Romero's works.

Lucio Fulci, a titan in Italian horror, continued with the concept, first in his sequel Zombi (also known as Zombi) and later in his experimental and wildly bizarre "Gates of Hell" trilogy.

Fans of Romero's work who built upon 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 film might be. The popularity of zombies thereafter decreased precipitously.

The undead had become a horror film fixture, although they now mainly featured in sequels (such as Return of the Living Dead and Zombie) and low-budget B-movies like My Boyfriend's Back, Cemetery Man, and Dead Alive.

Is there somewhere else to begin? White Zombie was the first film to promote the idea of Haitian voodoo zombies in Hollywood, decades before the famous George Romero ghoul.

White Zombie is currently accessible to watch on YouTube, and it can also be found in practically any cheap zombie movie collection. Because the studio was still a few years away from establishing subtlety at the time, Bela Lugosi plays a witch doctor who is actually nicknamed "Murder." Lugosi had only been a year since his portrayal in Dracula cemented his reputation as one of Universal's go-to horror performers.

The Svengali-like Lugosi uses his various concoctions and powders to turn an engaged young lady into a zombie in an effort to submit her to the will of a cruel plantation owner, and... well, it's pretty dry, wooden stuff. Predictably, Lugosi is the one bright light, but one must begin somewhere. After White Zombie, Hollywood sporadically produced voodoo zombie films for years, the most of which are now in the public domain.

Rob Zombie's musical output at the time also drew inspiration from the film. Some of the "best zombie movies" lists may include it prominently, but in 2016, the overwhelming majority of moviegoers aren't likely to find much enjoyment in a film like this. This item's high ranking is almost entirely attributable to the significance it has in history.

Planet Terror, directed by Robert Rodriguez and co-written with Quentin Tarantino, is the superior half of their Grindhouse double feature. The film tells the tale of a go-go dancer, a bioweapon gone wrong, and the transformation of a small Texas town's inhabitants into shuffling, pustulous monsters. Planet Terror's exploding tongue is firmly planted in its rotten cheek as it embraces its B-movie origins with missing reels, rough editing, and hammy overdubbed dialogue.

In an outrageously exciting conclusion with over-the-top gore and oozing effects, Rose McGowan's hero Cherry Darling has her severed arm replaced with a machine gun. Gather 'round, people: I want to absorb your brain in order to enlarge mine.

Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead seems to include some of the classic Troma characteristics. It'll be a complete waste of time. It's going to be a bloodbath. There will be no restrictions or aesthetic considerations. The fundamental question, like with every other Troma film, is whether or not you find it uninteresting. "Definitely not" is the right answer in this circumstance.

For a musical that is marketed as a "zom-com," if that makes any sense, the satire of consumer society is quite subtle. But why are you watching a movie about chickens that come back to life and take over a restaurant that looks like KFC and is built on a Native American burial ground? Don't believe that. To enjoy a Troma movie, you have to think that the violence, scatological jokes, and bad production are all part of the fun. You also have to like the thoughtless plot.

So, Poultrygeist is just 103 minutes of bloody, gross, and rude 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.

The budget for the independent film Night was slightly over $100,000. The film's unforgettable hordes of gaunt, voracious zombies were a big part of why it was so successful, but the film's obtuse plot, shocking gore, progressive casting, and societal commentary all contributed. "Godfather of Zombies" director George A. Romero directed five further installments in the Dead franchise. This book covers the two most famous of these flicks, Dawn of the Dead and Day of the Dead.

In spite of Night of the Living Dead's impact, it took some time for the picture to percolate and develop clout in the public's mind before a slew of notable American zombie films emerged in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Shock Waves may have been the first of all the "Nazi zombie" films, arriving just before Dawn of the Dead massively enhanced the appeal of zombies as horror adversaries.

A gang of wayward boaters find themselves on a remote island where a wrecked SS submarine has discharged its undead crew, a Nazi experiment. Peter Cushing plays a miscast and addled SS Commander the same year he sneered at Princess Leia in Star Wars: A New Hope?

By my estimation, there have been at least 16 Nazi zombie movies since this time, which is definitely more than one may expect, making this one remarkable for combining the portmanteau of famous cinematic villains first.

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

It takes a lot to develop a really original zombie picture, but Colm McCarthy's adaptation of Mike Carey's book The Girl With All The Gifts is a brilliant and insightful remake that also delivers genre thrills.

In this instance, the zombie outbreak is caused by a fungal infection like to that shown in The Last Of Us, which has converted the (check here) majority of the population into 'hungry' zombies. But that's really in the background of the plot, which concentrates on little Melanie, who is getting an unorthodox education from Gemma Arterton's instructor Helen in a heavily-armed institution.

Melanie, a'second-generation' hungry, still desires to consume human flesh but can think and feel. Her presence might hold the key to the future.

This gore-fest incorporates the Draugr, a mythical undead creature from Scandinavian folklore renowned for its savage commitment to guarding its gold hoard. In Dead Snow, these draugr are really former SS soldiers who terrorized a Norwegian village and robbed its inhabitants before being slain or driven into the cold mountains.

I have to give Dead Snow credit for coming up with this. It's funny, gory, and satisfyingly brutal, with elements of Evil Dead and "teen sex/slasher" films. Furthermore, since Dead Snow: Red vs. Dead is a sequel, fans may anticipate more of the same.

The Dead Next Door is one of those rare occasions in which the film's backstory is probably more intriguing than the picture itself. Sam Raimi produced it with a fraction of the earnings from Evil Dead II so that his close buddy J. R. Bookwalter could create the low-budget zombie epic of his dreams. Raimi, for whatever reason, is listed as an executive producer under the moniker "The Master Cylinder," while Evil Dead's Bruce Campbell does double duty—not on screen, but as the voiceover for not one, but two characters, since the whole picture has been redubbed in post-production. Unsurprisingly, this gives The Dead Next Door a sense of dreamlike unreality, and that's before we even add that the whole picture was shot on Super 8 and not 32 mm film.

The Dead Next Door is a genre-first. A low-budget zombie action-drama with amateur acting and surprise professionalism.

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 in a zombie movie that looks and feels like it was produced only for the director's family. Even still, there's a certain allure to that type of messy intimacy.

The meteoric surge in popularity of zombie movies has been fascinating to see. Voodoo myth, radioactive humans, and the classic monster imagery of E.C. comics were the primary ways in which the public learned about the creatures for a long time. They were either underrepresented or underdescribed in other sources. Rare sightings of zombies seldom resembled the modern stereotype of the brain-eating, flesh-craving zombie.

Cemetery Man (also known as Dellamorte Dellamore), directed by Dario Argento's student Michele Soavi, is a bizarre, psychedelic head trip in which the undead are portrayed as more of a nuisance than a serious threat. In Cemetery Man, an adaptation of the comic book series Dylan Dog, Everett portrays the misanthropic gravedigger Francesco Dellamorte, who would rather be among the dead than with living people. The issue is why he would not. For promoting the incorrect perception that he is sterile, the living are jerks.

There is one catch, however: the deceased will not remain buried in his cemetery. When he meets a beautiful widow (Falchi) at her husband's burial, Dellamorte falls head over heels for her, romances her in the gloomy corridors of his ossuary, and before they know it, they're naked and steaming it up on top of her husband's grave. That's only the beginning of the strangeness.

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