Zombie Q
Four cannibal siblings try to stop a zombie outbreak in the woods.
Romero’s Night of the Living Dead debuted more than half a CENTURY ago. (Feel old yet? I sure do!)
That’s over 50 years of an ever-growing cinematic category, with new classics accumulating constantly (rather like those zombies piling up against the wall in World War Z.) The Walking Dead, Twenty Eight Days Later, Dead Girl…. All beautiful testaments to how much examination of the human condition can be packed into an hour and a half of grisly spectacle.
As with any successful sub-genre, sub-SUB genres inevitably sprout. One of the best has been zombie comedies. Like peanut butter and jelly (or Tom Savini and splatter flicks), humor and the undead automatically gel. As for any blasphemers who disagree: does Shaun of the Dead ring a bell?
It’s that warm n’ squishy horror/comedy niche Evan Starkman’s Zombie-Q nestles into. And like Woody Harrelson’s Tallahassee character in Zombieland – Zombie Q does it’s “thing” quite well.
But after 50 years, what fresh “breath” could a zombie short bring to the brain munching table anymore?
How about this burning-to-be-answered question: when a Zombie apocalypse inevitably rolls around, what’s to stop the powers that be from fighting fire with fire, by siccing cannibals on those shambling freaks? That way, the cannibals get to indulge their uh – urges – and us regular humans stay far, far away from that “distasteful” fight.
In that “vein”, meet Yarl, Yon, Yertle and Yorma: a quartet of cannibal redneck siblings. Given their not safe for civilization predilections, their Texas Chainsaw-style family has been living off the grid in the woods, subsisting on squirrel stew. (Sigh).
At least until Faith and Bob pay a friendly visit. Faith’s the mayor’s assistant – and Bob’s his bodyguard. Yep, they’re from the gubbermint. That generally does not end well!
At arrow-point, Faith and Bob tiptoe around the bush (literally), informing our quirky foursome there’s been an outbreak of “rabies”. It’s spread from squirrels to a few unlucky humans who now prowl the backwoods, too. In order to avoid the media scandal, the mayor would just like those infected carriers gone. Turning them into cannibal stew would hide the evidence handily. A win-win for all concerned!
But Yorma expresses some doubts about being exploited:
YARL
Ma’am? Are you saying the mayor’s givin’ us a ...
capture and kill license, of sorts?
FAITH
All I’m saying is, the mayor would ...
welcome your cooperation with ...
containing the rabies.
YORMA
Bitch, quit talkin’ in tongues.
Is he givin’ the green light to eat these rabid folk or not?
Before you can say Train to Busan three times quick, the hunt is on! Simpleton Yon’s crushing on Faith… And Yorma’s making sure that their new found manna’s handled according to proper (redneck) safety standards:
Before Yertle can cut a slice of meat, though, Yarl stops him.
YARL
Whoa there, little buddy. That’s raw meat there.
Don’t wanna get food poisoning, do ya?
YORMA
Gotta roast your human till the sumbitch reaches
an internal temperature of at least 165 degrees.
When his guts turn pink and flaky,
then you know he’s ready to eat.
A gourmet paradise – right? But is something bound to go awfully wrong? (That is, more than the usual problems ‘eating humans’ habits cause.) Do bears – or zombies – sh*t in the woods?
Yarl, Yon, Yertle and Yorma are about to find out huntin’ zombies is a mite bit different than rodents. Sure, it’s fun (what cannibal wouldn’t enjoy exciting new challenges of that sort?) But if they want a four square meal of undead, they may just have to improvise…
Written with a delicious sense of tongue in cheek – or on the plate - humor (and dialogue any horror actor would literally die to deliver), Zombie Q is a frolicking blend of the comedy zombie genre with The Hills Have Eyes and Deliverance.
Snatch up this short and pull together a decent (but not bank-breaking) makeup budget… and you’ll have any horror audience rolling in the aisles!