Super Z Movie Review
Written by Joel Harley
Released by La Ruche Productions
Written and directed by Julien de Volte and Arnaud Tabarly
2021, 80 minutes, Not Yet Rated
UK FrightFest Premiere on 27th August 2022
Julien Courbey as Stephana
Johan Libéreau as Gertre
Fabien Ara as Yvon
Marion Mezadorian as Augustine
A zombie film like no other, Julien de Volte and Arnaud Tabarly’s singular Super Z takes the more talkative, sweary zombies of Braindead and Return of the Living Dead and removes all the boring humans, creating one of the world’s first zombie-fronted zombie movies. Crucially, it does so without the cop-out of having the zombies act like slightly pale versions of human beings. Warm Bodies this ain’t.
Breaking free from the government facility where they were created, a family of zombies flee to the woods, establishing an idyllic little home for themselves. As the zombies hunt, forage, and fall in love, an unconventional family unit is born. And, as the zombies are themselves hunted by their creators, thoughts turn to revolution against their warm-blooded overlords.
All of which is a front for seventy minutes of debauchery and mayhem, shot from the zombies’ perspective. Super Z is a non-stop riot of gore, violence (including explosive machine gun shootouts), rutting and creative swearing. It’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Part 2, if every single character was Bill Moseley’s Chop-Top. It’s The Happiness of the Katakuris, through a filter of French obscenity.
At a time when most zombie horror is depressingly morose and/or nihilistic, Super Z is a shot in the (torn off) arm for the subgenre. Its zombies don’t walk or shamble so much as they rave, turning a simple dinner sequence into something that wouldn’t be out of place in an episode of Euphoria. It’s exhausting to watch, but a fascinating experience – Married With Children on bath salts.
Which is to say, Super Z will not be to all tastes. De Volte and Tabarly offer no relief from the onslaught, and their zombies scream, shriek, snarl and slather their way through every scene – slurping on dismembered cocks and screeching swears at everyone and everything in the vicinity. Some may call this vein of black comedy one note, but if you look carefully, there’s a lot of intricacy to the levels of filth on display.
It’s to the directors’ credit that none of this gets old. But then, they scarcely give it time to, charging headlong from messy sex sequences to bloody firefights to its oddly sweet ending. Talking of which, stay for the end credits, and not just for the best use of Eiffel 65’s ‘Blue (Da Ba Dee)’ in film (sorry, Iron Man 3).
Watch with a crowd, and then watch at least a quarter of them walk out in disgust.
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