Army of the Dead

Army of the Dead

terrible humor, pedestrian characters, and unbearable direction, Army of the Dead is a relentless test of patience that delivers its “reward” in blips, far beyond the threshold of exhaustion while plunging itself deep into a messy pit of wincing embarrassment.

skip between the initial proposition of core plot direction and the hour-nineteen-minute mark, and nothing will be missed. lifeless exposition is stretched, torn, and shred to pieces in an agonizing experience that is difficult to watch out of sheer stupidity and incomprehensible scenes of dim and dusty blurred visuals that tarnish much of any makeup work, effects, or real sense of setting. Vegas is inadequately utilized in both desolation and entertainment, spending little time in the outdoors and abstaining from letting poker chips fly until the final portion in a passing sequence. much of the finer moments are filmed in slow motion, further instilling Snyder’s notion of being a better painter than storyteller, which could not have been exemplified any better than in Army of the Dead. dialogue is useless, somehow dated, and spine-shattering with cringe, halting any chance of humor to make a landing and any hint of empathy or sympathy to strike a nerve. layers of lore to create a distinct, standout existence among decades of zombie films are alluded to, but never see the light of day, even when mixed with a semi-intriguing heist film that veers this into more of a action-drama/horror-comedy, if any of these elements were properly developed. the inability to juggle or merge tones crumbles the film to shambles, not even able to hit a degree of god-awful laugh-ability that could possibly salvage a small speck of amusement - it flies past with Tig Notaro and Garret Dillahunt in the background helm as friend and foe in stone-cold seriousness despite attempted humor and villainy that is, in fact, what is really laughable.

the film’s standout poster children of ferocity stem from a nonchalant zombie tiger whose presence is only relevant to kill (albeit, a brutal shot) the person who deserves it the most anyway, and an alpha zombie whose motive, way of communication, or becoming is ever touched on. we get a “these are not just regular zombies” and are never allowed the topic to be explored or given weight, but fear not - the alpha has a bulletproof mask that only covers the front of half of his face and a cape.

what could have been brainless entertainment is instead an infuriating eyesore, spare a few kills that decide to take things further than just a bite mark or a bullet to the head. an over-glamorized heap of garbage chewed up and defecated out by a collective team of Zack Snyder himself who manages to exemplify a conflicting disarray of interests, with its highest peaks being an introductory credit sequence almost ruined by a smothering, large neon-pink text, and a severed head that is able to remain animate - Zack Snyder’s operatic swing at an all-too familiar genre is an insufferable failure that bows out with Zombie by The Cranberries to ram its tongue into cheek like an edgy accomplishment had been made with the self-awareness of idiocy.

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