Song of the Dead

Review by BigBadWolfBoy

I admit I do have a soft spot for horror comedies. As a child of the 70’s and 80’s, I grew up watching everything from good ol’ American slashers to bizarre Italian gore flicks. Back then horror comedies were rare- I can remember Student Bodies from early in the slasher cycle, and April Fool’s Day from the end- but not much else.

These days most low-budget horror films contain at least a sprinkling of comedy, and I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. Most independant horror is made by guys and gals with a camera, some willing friends, precious little money, and no formal training. They’ve got the spirit, but are still learning the techniques. Creating genuine tension takes skill. It’s a talent that is not innate to most aspiring filmmakers; it must be acquired through practice. Also, let’s face it, writing funny lines is cheaper than producing convincing special effects. All you really need is an ability to poke fun at what are inherently ridiculous situations anyway.

Still, things can go very, very wrong. Take Song of the Dead, for example. This 2005 zombie horror/comedy/musical from writer-director Chip Gubera just isn’t very funny.

Plotwise, we discover that the Air Force has released a chemical into the atmosphere above the United States that’s supposed to kill mosquitos while leaving humans and other animals unharmed. A terrorist supposedly snuck something else into the batch of chemicals, however, and that something is what causes the dead to rise as zombies and rampage all apocalyptical-like.

We get the lone band of isolated souls trying to fend off the zombies in a wooded environment. We get brain blasting, head bashing, head vs. chainsaw smackdowns. We get innard-munching. We even get both the ‘Gah! I’m infected but I’m not going to tell anyone until it’s too late’ guy, and the ‘Gah! I’m infected but I’m going to be up front about it, and when the time comes I’m going to sacrifice myself’ guy, as well. Throw in the obligatory name-checking of George Romero, and so far it’s not much different than any other digital video zombie fest to hit the shelves in the last few years.

It’s the singing that sets Song of the Dead apart. The singing and the…gasp…I don’t know if I can legitimately call it this with a straight face…uh…choreography? Yes, there’s dancing! Lumbering, uncoordinated dancing!

But before I get to that, I should say that I commend Chip Gubera for at least trying something different. There are glimmers within the mess. For example, I love that the government dubs the re-animating agent The Jihad Resurrection Virus, and that because of this at some point the characters stop calling the risen zombies and start referring to them as terrorists. As in "She’s not your mother anymore! She’s a terrorist!" Clever. And who wouldn’t grin at the sight of Phantasm‘s Reggie Bannister as a singing President of the United States, decked out in sparkling red, white, and blue? Again, it’s a nice moment. Also, it’s nice to see an attempt to clarify some living-dead rules (zombies emerging from graves are slow, while newly made ones are fast).

Oh, and there are a few boob shots, which always get my tail waggin’. I tell you, low-budget nudity never fails to amuse me. I mean, many actresses get paid more if they do nudity. But in a low-budget affair like this, where the actors are most likely friends of the director and not really getting paid anyway, it becomes something quite special. sniff I think I’m welling up.

Unfortunately, moments are all that this movie has. The acting is uniformly cringe-worthy. And while some of the gore is impressive for a low-budget outing, there isn’t nearly enough of it to warrant a full 90-minute viewing.

Still, it’s the songs that put the bullet into the brain of this ghoul. They are, every god-blessed one of them, annoying as all hell. They aren’t catchy, and they certainly aren’t funny. Did I mention the horrendous attempt at choreography? Plus, not one cast member can sustain a note to save their lives. I swear I haven’t been witness to such a display of wobbliness since the time my drunken pappy tried to win a can of Old Style by walking across a frozen pond wearing greased-up roller skates. He ended up in the emergency room with a concussion. Twenty minutes into this movie I seriously considered bashing my own head into a blissfully less awake state in order to escape the wobbly warbling assaulting me from my TV screen. Yes, it’s that bad.

Song of the Dead could have been a fun short film with better songs and performances. As it is it simply cannot sustain itself for a full hour and a half. Chip Gubera’s next project looks to be something called Wrestling Women vs. The Brainiac. Sounds like an intriguing concept. Here’s hoping he’s learned that concept can only take you so far.