The October Zombie-Thon! - Day 19: Zombie Death House
Posted by Trevor Snyder on 10.19.2006
Because "Zombie Happy House" just doesn't have the same ring to it.
ZOMBIE DEATH HOUSE (1987)
Directed by: John Saxon Written by: Devin Frazer, William Selby, & Kate Wittcomb Country: USA
As you might have guessed by now, I've watched enough zombie movies in my life, and particularly in the last few weeks, that at this point I'm extremely thankful for anything new I happen to see in one of these films. So I'll give this much to the "zombies in prison" action-flick Zombie Death House: it's definitely the first time I've ever seen a fat, meat-cleaver wielding zombie menacingly warn "don't touch my twinkies" (and how that didn't become a nation-sweeping catchphrase is beyond me).
Not that that's the only thing Zombie Death House has going for it. It gloriously delivers on nearly every excessive aspect of ‘70s era prison-exploitation flicks (all the more impressive, given that it was made in 1987), although, to be honest, it is a little light on the nudity –c'mon, guys, you could have tried a little harder. This is the kind of bad movie that illustrates why there are bad movie lovers. Instead of simply being a boring, insufferable mess (like, say, yesterday's film, Zombiegeddon) ZDH's hilariously over-reaching story and sheer commitment to its own preposterousness make it an instant classic for anyone who loves to get together with friends and laugh the night away over a terrible film.
You do have to give ZDH's story some credit, though; maybe it's not the best story ever, but it sure packs a lot into its 96-minute frame. Hell, in the first five minutes alone former Vietnam War hero Derek Keillor (Dennis Cole) reconnects with an old friend, finds a new place to live, suffers from Vietnam flashbacks, gets a job as a chauffeur for mob boss Vic Moretti (Anthony Franciosa), and begins an affair with Moretti's girlfriend. I've seen two-hour movies that don't have as much going on in their entirety.
Anyway, it isn't long before the affair is discovered by Moretti, who responds the way any jilted mob boss would – he kills his girlfriend and frames Keillor for the murder. After being found guilty in a rigged trial (which, by the looks of it, apparently takes place in limbo), Keillor is sent to await execution on death row. And wouldn't you know it, his bad luck continues – this prison just happens to also hold Moretti's younger brother, Franco (Michael Pataki), who promises to make Keillor's short life behind bars a living hell. Sounds pretty bad for our hero, doesn't it? Well, don't worry about it, because the Keillor-Franco subplot never really goes anywhere.
That doesn't mean Keillor gets off light, however. It just so happens that this prison is also the testing ground for a secret government "behavior-modification" experiment. Although initially intended to see if the prisoners' violent tendencies can be eliminated, the overly-ambitious Colonel Burgess (B-movie icon John Saxon, who also directed) decides to switch things up a little and inject a couple of the prisoners with a variation of the drug, which accelerates their strength and hostility in order to create the perfect assassin. Of course, there's an unexpected side-effect (you just knew there had to be) – these crazed killers are contagious, spreading their rage-causing virus to nearly everyone who comes in contact with them.
Unwilling to allow the secret of his experiment out, but also eager to monitor the effectiveness of these mindless killing machines, Burgess seals off the prison, trapping everyone inside. This includes not only the prisoners, but the warden, his family, and Tonya Kerrington (Tane McClure), who is not only a reporter, but also a former scientist who used to work with Burgess on the project (I'm not exactly sure why she's both; I can only assume it's the films clever cost-cutting method of combining two needed characters into one). With the virus rapidly spreading throughout the prison's walls, it's up to Keillor to lead the rest of the prisoners against the bloodthirsty infectee's, while at the same time settling his score with the Moretti family.
I could tell you about the film's use of nearly every type of stereotypical prisoner character (including, of course, the flamboyantly gay prisoners who I believe are legally required to be in these kinds of movies). I could tell you about the ridiculous special effects, consisting of heads and appendages pulled off like tissue paper. I could tell you about the bizarre, at times borderline inappropriate score. And I probably should tell you about the perfunctory nude scene from Tane McClure.
But, really, this is a film about questions – the thing is chock-full of them. Why is Anthony Franciosa listed as making a special appearance despite being one of the film's main characters? Why, in the beginning, does Keillor lead the police on a high-speed chase rather than just try to explain that he has been framed? Why does Keillor, up to that point the film's one decent character, react to the zombie crisis by freeing the other prisoners and taking innocent people hostage? Why do Keillor's fellow prisoners, who really have no reason to care about his personal vendettas, enthusiastically agree with his demand that Vic Moretti be brought to the prison? Why does Tonya fall for Keillor roughly 10 seconds after meeting him? And why does Burgess, who is planning to blow up the prison and kill everyone inside, instead descend down into a secret tunnel he learns the prisoners might be using to escape, rather than just blasting the prison right then and there to ensure they never even make it to the tunnel?
You never really want any of these questions answered, mind you. In fact, we're probably better off that they're not. John Saxon, in his sole directorial effort, has a hard enough time juggling what story there is here.
Speaking of Saxon's directing, well, let's just put it this way: there's a reason you know John Saxon the actor, from films such as Enter the Dragon and A Nightmare on Elm Street, and not John Saxon the director of Zombie Death House. But that's fine by me; if a director with a real sense of style, pacing, or logic had gotten anywhere near this thing, it almost surely would have put a damper on the corny fun. And besides, Saxon fans will be watching this to see the man, not to appreciate his skills behind the camera. In that regard, I'm happy to report that John Saxon the director has definitely given John Saxon the actor the freedom to do his thing (and, is it just me, or is Saxon's voice just a tad bit louder than the rest of the actors on the film's soundtrack? Hmmmm).
The 411: I'm not sure John Saxon and company knew they were making such a "so stupid it's brilliant" type movie with Zombie Death House, or were just trying to make a legitimately intense prison shocker – as a matter of fact, observant viewers might notice in the film's opening credits that the word Zombie appears to have been added in after the fact, suggesting a none-too-subtle attempt to cash in on the horror craze rather than just go with the slightly less-silly sounding Death House. But, regardless, who cares what their intentions were? All that matters is that the end product is a rip-roaring blast of trashy fun. The only way it could possibly be any more entertaining is if it were a "women-in-prison" zombie-exploitation film. Hmmmm. Somebody get John Saxon on the phone, I think I have his next directorial effort figured out.
