5 Underrated Zombie Movies to Watch

Zombies. Where’ve those guys been? Used to be you couldn't walk down the street without bumping into some skin-sloughed gutbag with an empty eye socket and a hunger for flesh. Now you're lucky to see an exposed rib or a slightly green pallor. But we still love the zombies, don't we folks? Though their moment may have passed, though they may never again reach the oversaturated cultural peak which delivered Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and eleven seasons of The Walking Dead, we still hold space in our raw, juicy hearts for our pals the living dead. 

Perhaps the impending release of 28 Years Later has you itching to revisit the undead hits of yesteryear. Perhaps you've already rewatched the previous two films in Danny Boyle’s apocalyptic trifecta and now you're reaching for a Romero joint, or even British comedy classic Shaun of the Dead for the fourth or ninth time. “Stop!” I exclaim, jumping to my feet. “There's a better way! It doesn't have to be like this!” I reach into my pocket and deliver you a crumpled, disconcertingly damp wad of paper. The unraveled ball reads “HYPERREAL ZOMBIE MOVIE LISTICLE” with five titles as follows.

THE LIVING DEAD AT MANCHESTER MORGUE (1974)

The foundational building block of any zombie film is how the cannibal corpses find themselves shambling, stalking, and otherwise shuffling in the first place. Viruses are ever-popular, superseding classic methods of magic and voodoo as the best way to get your brain-munchers moving. The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue (aka Let Sleeping Corpses Lie) offers one catalyst très unique: a sonic farming device meant for insect control has resurrected bodies via aural radiation. These revitalized revenants go creeping across the countryside, causing chaos in their wake.

More moody and methodical than your average undead flick, Manchester Morgue conjures dread from arrangements of wind and stone and grass like a magician’s sleight; building tension within pastoral landscapes until it's too late to wriggle out and the false sense of security pops with the jolt of a crypt door slamming shut. Greenery gives way to gore, and soon the film is awash in enough red stuff to make even the most seasoned zombie connoisseur blush. Not unlike Messiah of Evil in its deployment of atmosphere over upfront scares, Manchester Morgue is an excellent selection for those who don't mind a little buildup to the main event. 

SHOCK WAVES (1977)

Speaking of buildup, is it possible to make a zombie movie that consists of nothing but vibes? Shock Waves hands you a melatonin and an eye mask and says yes; absolutely. One of the incalculable genre oddities sent forth from the Florida exclusion zone, Shock Waves follows a group of damp, idiot tourists as they stumble into a lost legion of Nazi zombies led by Peter Cushing (because why not, maybe he was just in the area that week?). Things happen, people panic, and the film settles into a rhythmic hypnostate that feels like volume three of “Chill Aquatic Beats to Fall Asleep and Die To.”

This is a compliment, of course. My tireless brain responds well to languid horror films (I pass out to Anthropophagus all the time) and Shock Waves in particular evokes a wet, swampy trance that’s light on violence but heavy on sweat and atmosphere. It’s as if all the gore and incident have been removed and only connective tissue remains; an algae-caked deathdream lazily circling the whirlpool until it disappears under the surface without so much as a bubble. Fans of swamp plants, dilapidated hotels, and excellent soundtracks will be delighted. Those who expect something more lurid from the film’s concept might be disappointed—the fact that this Pure Moods visual mixtape features the fascist undead is almost completely irrelevant.

THE LIVING DEAD GIRL (1982)

Jean Rollin certainly shares a shelf with David Lynch in cinema’s hall of honorary lesbians; he gifted the world with numerous European titles in which hot blonde women commit supernatural sapphic mischief or some variation thereof. Though largely known for bloodsucker classics such as Fascination or Lips of Blood, The Living Dead Girl remains one of Rollin’s strongest and queerest efforts. Following the revival of a dead heiress thanks to toxic chemicals, this zombie drama sees our eponymous Girl reunite with a childhood “best friend” to facilitate her need to feed upon fresh flesh. Ladies, is it gay to help a girl you confessed love to by luring unsuspecting victims for her to consume in the basement? Yes. Of course it is. Why even ask?

If you think you'll enjoy the film about a beautiful, nearly feral woman cannibalizing others with help from her “roommate” then yeah, you probably will. As to what people who aren't completely fried in their brain think about this movie I couldn't say, but lesbians and blood-soaked corpse consumption go the distance where I'm concerned. As with most Rollin films, Living Dead Girl is impeccably shot, elegiac, and threatened by looming tragedy; if not for the graphic munching of entrails it might be an arthouse film you'd be comfortable bringing home to mom. As is it's a great choice for screening out weenies on the first date babe, can we rewatch the ending a couple more times?

ZOMBI 3 (aka ZOMBIE FLESH EATERS 2) (1988)

Like particularly fragrant cheese, Italian horror represents a complex continuum of flavor profiles and esoteric preferences which may repulse the casual observer yet satisfy the more adventurous gourmand. If you crave derangement and filth, we stock a well-aged Burial Ground and Doctor Butcher M.D.; kept behind glass of course. For those just wishing to sample the wares we offer fresh-sliced Nightmare City, and a decant of Lucio Fulci’s classic Romero-rip Zombi 2. But if you want to sip on something stupid? Like really, really stupid? Allow me to serve you from the private reserve: Fulci’s follow-up Zombi 3, aka Zombie Flesh Eaters 2.

Though this film has as little business being a sequel to Zombi 2 as Zombi 2 has being a sequel to Dawn of the Dead, Zombi 3 offers a robust seasoning of Resident Evil-style skin-chewing silliness which rarely fails to delight. Directed in part by notorious schlockmasters Bruno Mattei (Cruel Jaws) and Claudio Fragrasso (Troll 2), these off-kilter auteurs inject new life into what might’ve been a by-the-numbers viral outbreak jungle jam. Janky killer bird puppets, flying skulls, and a zombie DJ are among Zombi 3’s absurdist delights, cherry-topped by a scientist doing his best Herbert West impression and what might be the craziest (or only) womb-based kill you'll ever see. If nothing else, this movie is a self-contained crash-course on how far green lights and a fog machine can sustain an atmosphere.

MY BOYFRIEND’S BACK (1993)

In 1993 director, character-actor, and general unwell individual Bob Balaban unleashed My Boyfriend’s Back to neither critical nor financial acclaim. Respectable publications such as Variety deemed it “an idiotic offbeat comedy,” clearly unaware that someday thirty years later other offbeat idiots would swoop in and pen idiotic offbeat assessments about how the film “whips, actually.” The film whips, actually. Playing out like a parody of Teen Wolf-style high-school horror-comedies, My Boyfriend explores what happens when a dweeb with an unrequited crush is revitalized as a rotting schmuck who can only see women as giant cartoon turkey legs. He's too worried about his loose ears and missing nose to ask Traci to the prom… but what if this high school sweetheart likes him better as a walking corpse?

Chock full of relentlessly deadpan humor and tonal curveballs, My Boyfriend plays out like a pubescent fever dream of sexual anxiety and slapstick gags and secretly psychopathic parents and wanting nothing more than to bite your partner with well beyond the acceptable level of force. Though the film's matter-of-fact comedy might not play for all boys and ghouls, Balaban’s freako wavelength is the sort of unfettered creativity which these days is relegated to Tubi originals or at the very least broken apart and diluted within an inch of its life. After all, how many zombie comedies end with the protagonist being judged for his actions at the gates of Heaven? Or feature baby Phillip Seymour Hoffman as a knuckle-dragging school bully? If you can find another I'll be very, very pleased.

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