Queens of the Dead (now streaming on Shudder) marks the official passing of “of the dead” from father to offspring. Night of the Living Dead director George Romero’s daughter Tina Romero directs and co-writes (with Erin Judge) this cheeky, cheezy zom-com in which drag queens battle the undead, who boast a metallic sheen that renders them far more fab-u-lous than the typical shamblers. Rising star Katy O’Brian (Love Lies Bleeding) headlines an almost-entirely queer cast for an outing that attempts to give an old genre a fresh, glitzy veneer. Whether it succeeds at that is the question, though.
The Gist: COLD OPEN: A drag queen with towering blue hair and a bodysuit that makes a disco ball look like a dirt clod teeters into a church on impossible heels, following a dating app to a priest who’s lapsing on the ol’ oath. “I’m here to play your organ,” our queen purrs, only to find the priest is, gasp, a zombie, who takes a big bite and, well, shows us a different angle on the idea of conversion therapy. Consider the tone set!
As the zombie outbreak begins to bubble, we drop in on a dive-bar drag show anchored by Ginsey (Nina West), who goes so big you can see the orange wig and eyeshadow from space. Dre (O’Brian) oversees this production, which hits a snag when headlining talent Yasmine (Dominique Jackson) drops out to hock shitty vodka on social media. This doesn’t help the petty squabbling among Ginsey and the other performers, including snipey-snipey Nico (Tomas Matos) and drug-addled Jax (Samora la Perdida), as well as tough bartender Jimmy (Cheyenne Jackson), ditzy intern Kelsey (Jack West) and Dre’s dopey straight brother-in-law Barry (Quincy Dunn-Baker), who’s there to unclog some very gross toilets. Dre needs a replacement headliner, so out of desperation, she calls Sam (Jaquel Spivey), who abruptly abandoned the drag troupe a while back due to stage fright, and now works as a hospital orderly alongside Dre’s nurse wife, Lizzy (Riki Lindhome), who’s just found out she’s pregnant after who knows how long trying.
Such is the shambolic quasi-drama backdropping the pending zombie mayhem that’ll inevitably take out some of the ensemble, or force their converted friends into the cages lining the club dance floor. Oh, and prompt Margaret Cho to zoom into frame on a powered scooter and jam a power drill into a zombie’s skull, a moment that sounds great on paper but sputters in execution. Our group yearns to reunite with Lizzy – who has a transgender patient Jane (Eve Lindley) in tow – and find safety by “getting the ferry,” which in this movie, absolutely must be a punny double-entendre. My money’s on not everybody making it.
Photo: Everett Collection
What Movies Will It Remind You Of? Another day, another Shaun of the Dead-inspired tweak on a formula.
Performance Worth Watching: O’Brian’s presence has a cooling effect on this film (see also: Christy, which could use a hell of a lot more of her), being the grounded, relatively no-nonsense character who gets things done and maintains a little bit of charisma in the process.
Sex And Skin: None.
Photo: ©AMC/courtesy Everett Collection
Our Take: As the elder Romero’s Dawn of the Dead depicted zombie shoppers trapped on mall escalators, the younger Romero’s Queens of the Dead gives us zombies staring at their phones: STAGGER, CHOMP, EAT, POST seems to be their brainless imperative. That and the needling stabs at religion early on are among the ideas that go nearly nowhere in a movie that’s never as entertaining as it’s trying so hard to be. The movie shows the seams of a first-time feature-filmmaker who prefers to run a tight ship in order to maintain a consistent low-grade campy tone instead of taking big swings that might make it memorable.
And so Queens half-hearts its social commentary, renders action sequences rote and never goes deep enough to engage us with the characters’ emotions. Romero leans heavily on a poppy visual aesthetic boasting lotsa neon greens and pinks, and cheap-looking sets effectively evoking the ’80s kitsch of bottom-shelf video-store fare. Its comedy is limited to a few fun sight gags and a zinger or three, but otherwise it falls into the close but no cigar smirk bucket (note: “hashtag decapitation” is a lousy one-liner). And weirdly, the movie’s also a bit of a slog, its pacing squished flat, with little cultivation of tension and not enough punch behind the big moments, whether it’s Cho’s arrival or the goofy third-act gearing-up montage in which our heroes get EXTRA glam for their showdown with the zombies. And it concludes with an abrupt fizzle that offers little payoff. It’s an easy movie to like, in concept, pedigree and intent, but a harder one to actually enjoy.
Our Call: Oh, and there’s a moment here praising the superiority of Haribo, when Albanese are OBVIOUSLY the superior gummy bear product. SKIP IT.
John Serba is a freelance film critic from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Werner Herzog hugged him once.