Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Tina Romero
Starring: Katy O'Brian, Jaquel Spivey, Nina West, Tomas Matos, Margaret Cho, Jack
Haven, Quincy Dunn-Baker, Cheyenne Jackson, Riki Lindhome
It's night of the living dead names in Queens of the Dead, the queer and trans-centred feature debut of writer/director
Tina Romero (co-writing with Erin Judge). I normally avoid
modern zombie comedies like the plague (or a rage virus), but I couldn't
resist seeing if Romero had inherited her father George's talent for
combining gruesome horror with social satire. Unfortunately, its queer
milieu and some talented performers are all that distinguish Romero's debut
from the shambling horde of straight to VOD zom-coms, though unlike most of
the filmmakers who cynically indulge this played out sub-genre, Romero is
clearly injecting some heart into her work here.
The setting is a Brooklyn warehouse party thrown by stressed out DJ Dre (Katy O'Brien), who is struggling to contend with headlining drag queen Yasmine (Dominique Jackson) pulling out at the last minute and the toilets overflowing. Dre also has
to deal with Yasmine's reluctant replacement Sam (Jaquel Spivey), who
has promised to revive his drag alter ego "Samonce," having once cost Dre
thousands when a bout of stage freight forced him to retire the act. There's
also Dre's MAGA brother-in-law Barry (Quincy Dunn-Baker), there to
fix the over-flowing toilets and stomping his feet all over the pronouns
minefield. As if all this wasn't enough, New York has just become the epicentre of a
zombie outbreak, and dozens of undead ravers are drawn by Dre's music.
Far from distancing herself from her late father's legacy, Romero leans
into referencing George's work. The zombies have the pronounced cheekbones
and silvery skin aesthetic of Bub from Day of the Dead. The ill-fated car dash of Night of the Living Dead is
reworked into a run to a food truck. Just as the undead were drawn to the
shopping mall of Dawn of the Dead by their still conscious
consumerism, here the zombies are constantly clutching onto their cellphones
as they shamble around.
But for all the references to Romero senior, Romero junior's debut lacks
the bite of her daddy's genre-defining films. George's films skilfully
blended horror and comedy, scaring us while making us laugh at the same
time. Tina isn't really interested in scares here, and there's a distinct
lack of suspense. She presents us with a bunch of likeable characters but
fails to put them in any real danger. There's a subplot involving Dre's
pregnant wife (Riki Lindholme) and a trans woman (Eve Lindley)
trying to make their way across town, Cloverfield style, but
it's treated as an afterthought and they face no real threats on their
journey. If you're expecting the sort of outlandish gore of George's films
you'll be disappointed, as most of the few kills here take place
offscreen.
Queens of the Dead is more concerned with generating laughs,
which it occasionally does. There's a clever gag about the partygoers
disguising themselves as essential workers and ending up dressed as "the
essential Village People." The cast is filled with comic performers who know
how to drop a good line. But the film's comedy holds back from engaging in
the sort of confrontational social satire that made George's films more than
simply gorefests. With its mix of drag queens, trans women, a MAGA plumber
and a TERFy lesbian (Margaret Cho), the stage is set for a tense and
timely standoff but the film squanders opportunities to comment on our
current obsession with how people choose to live. When Cho's Pops announces
that only women will be allowed on the boat that will take them across the
river to Queens, the movie pulls back from using the opportunity to satirise
the tiresome "What is a woman?" debate. Barry initially appears to be a
stand-in for the abrasive father from Night of the Living Dead, but the movie lets his bigotry off the hook by making him a heroic figure
early on. Tina Romero clearly believes that everyone is capable of getting
along in a time of crisis (in a novel touch, the film bucks the cliché of
killing someone as soon as they're bitten: "you're with us until you're
not"), but this lack of conflict just doesn't make for a very engaging
horror movie.
