Clashing personalities and human conflict derailed the survivors from within a fortified farmhouse while the undead attempted to claw down its doors in George A. Romero‘s seminal Night of the Living Dead. Filmmaker Tina Romero trades the rural setting for a Brooklyn warehouse party, and the ragtag strangers for a vibrant, winsome ensemble in her feature debut, Queens of the Dead. Romero upholds her father’s zombie legacy with a delightful undead romp more biting for its social commentary, one that leans far more into glam than gore.
A zombie outbreak begins quietly in the background as club worker and DJ Dre (Katy O’Brien) panics over last-minute preparations for a warehouse party, including finding a replacement for in-demand performer Yasmine (Dominique Jackson). Dre’s wife, Lizzy (Riki Lindhome), sends coworker Sam (Jaquel Spivey), much to Dre’s chagrin, due to Sam’s previous stage fright issues. There’s also Dre’s clueless brother-in-law, Barry (Quincy Dunn-Baker), daffy intern Kelsey (Jack Haven), and employees like Nico (Tomas Matos), who are less than thrilled to be stuck at work. They’ll all have to put aside their drama when the undead shamble into the equation.
Dominique Jackson, Nina West, Tomás Matos, Quincy Dunn-Baker, Katy O’Brian, and Jaquel Spivey in Tina Romero’s QUEENS OF THE DEAD. Courtesy of Shannon Madden. An Independent Film Company and Shudder Release.
Romero, who co-wrote the script with Erin Judge, hangs Queens entirely on the characters, rewarding viewers with one of horror’s most likable casts to come along in a long time. It’s not just the fully realized characters or live-in personalities that ensure there’s not a single weak link among the humans attempting to survive the night, but in the meaty subtext and text baked into the premise. A queer community banding together, despite their differences, as the world descends into violence just beyond their walls, adds thematic heft, but Queens finds entertaining and touching ways to wield zombies like a farcical knife at every opportunity.
Margaret Cho and Nina West bring dramatic heft and heart, especially as their queer elder characters represent intergenerational tensions and queer history. Queens even takes jabs at cultural appropriation in the influencer era, and triumphantly flips the “token minority” archetype on its head through Barry, the film’s comedic relief and sole straight guy of the main ensemble.
It’s humor that corrals all these characters, their subplots, and subtext into an easily digestible whole, even if not all its ideas get fully fleshed out. The entire cast flexes their comedic muscles, making charming work of even the silliest dialogue or scenarios at times. Look for Romero mainstay Tom Savini to get downright silly in a cameo appearance as the incompetent Mayor responsible for informing the city of its outbreak problem, yet another example of Romero’s incredible tightrope act of honoring her father’s zombie legacy without ever losing her voice.
Nina West in Tina Romero’s QUEENS OF THE DEAD. Courtesy of Shannon Madden. An Independent Film Company and Shudder Release
That comedy takes precedence means that the horror is all but nonexistent. The zombies adhere to the original slow-shambling style first introduced in Night of the Living Dead, but with a glam-gore glittery makeover. They’re also incorporated sparingly until the siege finale. While that means a rather low body count for a zombie movie, the deaths hurt. Queens is a celebration of its characters, told in a campy, heartfelt style. The horror falls to the wayside as Romero rejects the subgenre’s signature pessimism in favor of triumphant optimism. It’s also overstuffed with ideas and ambition that are occasionally undone by budgetary constraints and aesthetics; the Easter setting is never fully taken advantage of beyond a few pointed jabs, for example. But that’s never to the detriment of a film that wears its heart and glitter so infectiously on its sleeves.
Queens of the Dead releases in theaters on October 24, 2025.
