Army of the Dead Review

Maybe I have seen too many movies. Perhaps too many of those were filled with gruesome images. Then, just perhaps, I have become desensitized to violence. Netflix's newest release, a zombie heist thriller by director and co-writer Zack Snyder, has so many shots of people getting torn apart, bones piercing skin, exploding heads, the works. Yet my eyes watched with zero remorse, unaffected by the carnage. And by the time I stood up from my couch, I was unfazed. I could see what the picture was aiming for, but I am sorry Zack, you are no George A. Romero.

Things start promisingly enough. After Las Vegas is overrun by the undead, it is locked off by the government. We see TVs in the background explaining the controversy behind the military's intent to nuke the city on the 4th of July, and it is on these TV's where any satire come into play. Is there anything more American than nuclear weapons and explosions?

Dave Bautista plays Scott, our main hero who's suffering from the trauma of having to shoot his wife in front of their daughter Kate (Ella Purnell) once she's turned. A mercenary who helped people escape the initial infection, he's now flipping burgers. He also still working out, since his body is leaner than the meat he's grilling. Anyway, that is until a man named Tanaka, played by Hiroyuki Sanada, walks into the restaurant. Why did the billionaire walk into the diner? Obviously because he wants to steal from himself.

In his Vegas casino sits a vault with 200 million dollars. Fifty of it is Scott's, if he can break in, get the dough, and get out before the US sends out its dangerous fireworks. Tanaka's already been reimbursed by the insurance company, so it's "dead money," ripe for the taking. If you've ever seen any heist film since the inception of cinema, well, then you know the drill.

Anyway, after the obligatory scenes where Scott forms his team, from helicopter pilot (Tig Notaro) to safecracker (Matthias Schweghofer); this means that it takes a solid forty minutes before we get any real zombie action. The dialogue is blunt and only occasionally pithy, but it's hardly revolutionary. Most in the merry band of money misfits shows humanity at their worst, blinded by the all-mighty dollar, with the only real moments of honesty are by our bulging hunk of man muscle Mr. Bautista. He continues to be better than the material he's served in Hollywood.

There are a few other subplots, including the shady Martin (Garret Dillahunt), right-hand-man of Tanaka, who's acts so disingenuously that he might as well have just introduced himself with a "hello I can't be trusted," and Scott's kid Kate, who's friend got lost in the quarantine city. These moments don't end in surprise, and pad out what I anticipated to be a tight-knitted movie into this bloated, almost three hour long undead epic; one that feels decidedly less grandiose once you realize they just end up riffing James Cameron's "Aliens."

A few decent ideas can be found, such as the almost romanticized ghouls (who appear to breed and are apparently monogamous) and the concept of infected animals (including no less than a tiger and a horse), but they go unrealized. Do they conceive the same way as humans? How to they attract potential mates? Why do undead critters obey undead humans instead of just tearing them apart? Why aren't there any monster cockroaches or any other creatures running around?

Maybe Snyder wants us the audience to think about those things until the already announced prequel and animated TV show drop? Or, maybe, he just didn't really think this whole thing out.