‘Queens of the Dead’ Review: A Zombie Farce That Wears Its Bedazzled Heart on Its Sleeve

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While many movies rely on good intentions alone to keep afloat, the low-budget zombie film “Queens of the Dead” comes remarkably close. Directed by Tina Romero, this entertaining first feature is packed with humor and thoughtful concepts that often fall just short of full realization. Notably, Romero is the daughter of the creator of the zombie movie genre, George A. Romero, and she skillfully uses her father’s lifelong fascination with undead creatures as a symbol for society in general. By weaving familiar tropes into a unique queer narrative centered around a drag show gone wrong, she transforms the genre’s darker, grittier aspects into a glamorous and heartfelt farce.

The film ‘Queens of the Dead’ is one that encourages you to go along for the ride – not by ignoring your brain, but by maintaining a heightened level of awareness while setting aside preconceived notions about elegance. Although its visual style often falls short of its attempts at camp as a central motif or deeper themes, it succeeds brilliantly in developing compelling characters. Its weak visual structure is reinforced by these well-crafted personalities, particularly evident in the film’s unexpectedly lively finale.

The film’s absurd opening scene takes place in a church setting and introduces a flamboyant Brooklyn drag queen who meets a secretive pastor on a dating app for LGBTQ+ individuals. As fate would have it, this hypocritical man of faith is transformed into a monstrous “walker” with shimmering silver skin and hollowed cheeks — a satirical twist by Romero on the classic zombie in an era filled with social media influencers and self-indulgent habits. After a gruesome bite, religion has drained the life from a queer entertainer, a stark contrast that is highlighted by a sudden shift to an energetic drag show celebrating Catholicism during Easter.

The recurring religious imagery persists, led by Sam (Jaquel Spivey), a worried yet jovial male nurse who moves through hospital corridors with a dance, giving his patients unconventional communion-like servings of blood-red Jell-O. This unusual occurrence feels somewhat disjointed considering its dramatic entrance. Nevertheless, it’s part of the film’s collection of symbolic detours, using metaphor as a backdrop rather than a central theme. The narrative then gradually unveils a diverse group of characters with complex pasts, involving disputes over drag show disagreements, while a subtle build-up of zombie chaos edges into view at the film’s periphery.

Before Tom Savini, a renowned zombie makeup artist, appears on television and announces something, Sam finds out that his ex-boss and closest friend, the busy disc jockey and drag producer Dre (played by captivating Katy O’Brien), urgently needs a new lead dancer at a seedy bar. On his journey to Bushwick, Sam plans to revive his forgotten stage identity. As the story unfolds, Romero introduces us to the cutthroat, personal drama happening backstage in the cabaret, making us care for each character along the way.

As the curtain nears, Dre finds herself being tugged in numerous ways by her diverse group of performers – including drag queen Nina West and Broadway’s Tomás Matos, as well as her scatterbrained intern Kelsey (Jack Haven) and her outdated brother-in-law Barry (Quincy Dunn-Baker). Meanwhile, another storyline unfolds with less depth as Dre’s pregnant wife Lizzy (Riki Lindhome), aided by a transgender traveler (Eve Lindley), struggles to reach the bar amidst the city’s turmoil.

The group, primarily composed of LGBTQ+ actors, is entertaining scene after scene, although the dialogue occasionally tries for humor but succeeds only about half the time. Nevertheless, the film gains momentum around the midpoint, as bar patrons begin to understand the predicament at hand. They are subsequently aided by an impromptu group of vigilantes, with Margaret Cho leading the charge as Pops, a tough-as-nails butch lesbian who steals the show with her dramatic entrance on an electric scooter.

In a surprising twist on the classic zombie genre, Pops swiftly takes center stage as he defies the traditional rule of eliminating bitten characters, instead emphasizing collective humanity over individual survival and irrational fears. The dialogue is peppered with humorous quips that hint at generational LGBTQ+ dynamics, and Pops’ role as a queer elder amplifies this narrative, recalling the sense of community under threat during the AIDS crisis, a shadow that still hangs heavily over the storyline exploring compassion towards those infected in a world that shows them only cruelty.

The film ‘Queens of the Dead’ doesn’t quite match the visual flair of many iconic cult movies, but it makes up for it with a charmingly expressive quality. Even its most excessive scenes are tempered by a friendly demeanor that is rare in the zombie genre. Its political themes might be straightforward, but their bold presentation results in a film that unfolds as a sugary, campy, melodic comedy, moving swiftly without ever outstaying its welcome.”

“Despite not being as visually striking as many cult classics, ‘Queens of the Dead’ stands out with its heartfelt tone. Its most extravagant moments are balanced by a friendly disposition that is uncommon in zombie films. The film’s political ideas may be straightforward, but their direct approach lets it unfold as a sweet, campy, musically-infused comedy, moving quickly and never lingering too long.

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2025-06-10 11:47