DAY 126--ZOMBIES GONE WILD

The title of this microbudgeted 2007 release offered a prurient but raucous promise; the GIRLS GONE WILD juggernaut--um, if that's a pun, it's not intended--is ripe for parody, and throwing zombies into the mix makes sense, mirroring the dead, voyeuristic tone of the videos. However, this presentation by the Cohen Brothers (who apparently add the "h" to their non-Oscar winning projects) is so utterly and thoroughly awful, that calling it awful simply isn't enough. ZOMBIE CAMPOUT was awful. NIGHT OF THE BUMS was awful. RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD PART II was, too (my apologies to Ken Widerhorn for my harsh review a few days back; after watching the wretched cinematic secretion that is ZOMBIES GONE WILD, his film is a breathtakingly inventive spin on the zombie comedy, as hilarious an outing ever put on celluloid.) Yeah, this movie is that fucking terrible.

I knew I was in trouble when the writer/director is credited to "G.R." (I understand completely; if I'd made this piece of shit, I'd've been doubly careful and shot each of my crew members in the hindbrain, lest any of them reveal my identity). Opening with a "disclaimer," warning the viewer that the following movie is really, really, offensive and if you're, y'know, a pussy, that you shouldn't watch. Well, I was offended, but only because I'm not a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal obsessed with the act of egestion (that means pooping, if G.R.'s reading this). Actually, I shouldn't be so mean toward knuckle-dragging Neanderthals, since most of them will have the good sense to avoid this rotgut. Tedium clocks in around the eight-minute mark in this alleged comedy as three nimrods embark on a road trip to indulge in all the delights appreciated by college men, mostly of the vaginal variety.

Now, I want to impress upon you just how putrid ZOMBIES GONE WILD is, yet I refuse to discuss it in detail (it's not that I don't want to, but I tend to curl into the fetal position and twitch whenever I try to think about it). I will say that for its aggressively moronic first hour, the movie is nothing but a series of abominably unfunny "skits" as these three assholes engage in all sorts of shenanigans, most of which involve farting, shitting, or a combination of both (in "edgy" fare like this it's inevitable that certain bodily functions are invoked, but G.R. centers so many "laughs" around human excrement that I began to wonder if the old boy was trying to work out some personal demons). I've literally been to funerals that were funnier than this.

It behooves me to mention that I don't have a problem with material that seeks to shock and offend; in fact, I tend to favor it. But what G.R. doesn't seem to understand is that it takes more than showering your cast in fake vomit or throwing a black guy in a Klansman's hood to be "shocking."

ZOMBIES gets around to "exploring" its premise in the last twenty-five minutes, though the handful of bikini-clad girls included are more braindead than wild, and the undead shows up briefly to munch on some meager gore. (For a GGW parody that strives to be offensive, there's absolutely nothing in the T&A department; I say that not as someone who needs bare breasts to be entertained, but the film seems to miss the entire point about its raison d'etre).

I'm sure the morbidly curious will want to watch this just to see how bad it is, but I implore you: DO NOT. I'd rather mud wrestle with Ann Coulter and Nancy Grace before subjecting myself to this again. Tell you what, instead of watching ZOMBIES GONE WILD, I'll gorge myself on a shitload of White Castle burgers and a gallon of black coffee; when I can't hold it any longer I'll videotape the resulting explusion and sent it to you. Not only will your time be better spent, but I'll probably get a five-picture deal from the Cohens as well.

(Notice that the trailer not only avoid any sound or dialogue, but lasts a whopping thirty seconds.)