Examiner par Weirdling_Wolf

Ryan Thompson's audaciously ambitious, low-budget, high-body-count, 'Zombie Horde' comes flying chaotically at you like a tumultuous typhoon of Rabid, Road-Warrior worshipping rapscallions, and the demonstrative lack of production value is leavened by the explosive excess of elephantine-balled, everything-and -the-kitchen-sink' celluloid chutzpah, and this dearth of originality is luridly compensated with a triumphant proliferation of deliriously cartoonish, brashly pilfered, trope-stealing perfidy! A hyperbolic, high-octane, deadhead-smashing, cheaply distilled cocktail; one part, Enzo G Castellari's barmy B-Movie 'Bronx Warrior', two parts, 'New Barbarians, this vainglorious, Z-Movie brew is shaken to bloody imperfection and served in a lukewarm skull, without an inch of irony! To wit, they even have a swarthy, eye-patch sportin' dude channelling an am-dram Snake Plissken, aye! That director Thompson is endowed with the largess of sack required to so wickedly purloin the likeness of our beloved Plissken is, quite frankly, awesome to behold, along with all the triumphantly plentiful, post-apocalyptic movie miasma, we then enjoy the legendary presence of original 'Vigilante' himself, the Grindhouse grand-master of disaster, Fred Williamson, on fearsome, douche bag-dissin' form as quick-quipping, 'Moses'; the moody, cigar-sucking, gun-blasting', Zombie-zapping patriarch of his rag-tag group of plucky, schlock-movie toe rags!

If Bruno Mattei's 'Rats Night of Terror' gave birth in a dystopian wasteland, nourishing itself solely on a misbegotten, terminally toxic diet of Troma movies, Linnea Quigley work out videos, and Mad Max masquerading, Italian B-Movie horror hysteria, this grossly mutated progeny, while undeniably butt-ugly, would kick more ass than a red hot Vindaloo enema! Thompson's, 'Zombie Horde' is an undeniably fun ride, but it 'ain't especially smart, but, for me at least, the film's unrepentant boorishness endows it with some additionally disgraceful, B-Movie audacity, so I couldn't help but fall in love with it hook line and stinker! Fair warning, like certain divisive pizza adornments, this overtly salty, lunk-headed, junk food treat might well be too odorously cheese-laden for more refined movie fans; if one's trash-benumbed palate craves the illicit, grindhouse-greasy, gory, gonzo-Gorgonzola savour of synthetic, wholly inorganic fare, dig in, and don't stand on ceremony, dude!!! As this is a hellaciously heroic, mascarpone-laden, zombie apocalypse with an entirely splendid, synth-swollen score, which like some sinuous succubus, wends its wickedly irresistible path, deep into your horror movie-soaked mind! Okay! Okay!!! I get it! I really do, we've been here a hundred times before, so there's nothing new under the dying celluloid sun these days, who cares????!!! Just as that original sin, we all keep on clamouring back hungrily for more of that splattery goodness!