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Review

What? The? Fuck? Was this movie made to make us grumpy? Because it sure as shit seems so. How do you make a sexed-up parody of a satire and then forget to include any but the faintest hint of boobies? One pair in the opening credits and three pairs in a random sacrificed-hottie flashback scene thrown in at some point? That's it? Please tell us we were hallucinating all those bras and bikini tops and that there were actually juicy titties on-screen. Please? Oh fuck it...

The story? Well, if you've seen Zombieland, you pretty much know the drill. Awkward, nerdy dude meets cute with badass redneck dude in a zombie-overrun wasteland of America and they head out in search of survival. Eventually, they meet up with two chicks and forge a wary alliance that eventually turns into real affection. So, there's the story - now what's the problem? Plenty.

First off, Zombieland is already a satire. It's riddled with tweaks of consumerism and witty one liners. So, any attempt that Sean Skelding (the director) makes at being funny is going to be compared to the original... and guess what buddy, you fucking fail. OK, no matter, it's an "erotic parody" so any inferiorities it has to the source material are more than compensated by all the juicy naked breastesses on-screen. Except, here, Skelding forgot to include the naked breastesses. It's almost as if he spent all his clearly not-too-shabby budget on gore (there's a lot of it) and camera lenses and next to nothing on girls willing to take their tops off. The movie's called Stripperland bro, place tits throughout accordingly.

It's not all awful, we suppose. The opening scene actually made us think that Stripperland was going to be surprisingly good. The nerdy guy does a pretty good Jesse Eisenberg impression and the lighting was good, so we figured we were in for a treat. But, wait a minute, why are all these zombie strippers wearing clothes? Then we met the stand-ins for Woody Harrelson, Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin whereupon, seeing their entire lack of any on-screen charisma, we decided to judge the movie almost entirely on the number os titties we got to ogle. And, well... you already heard us bitch about that.

The sad thing is that Skelding showed promise with I Am Virgin. In that film, he probably could've coasted by on weak jokes as the source material was dramatic, so comedy would already appear to be fresh, but instead he loaded it up with really long, really hot sex scenes and threw in as many hot naked titties as he could. Here, though, he fails. It's almost as if he wanted to keep the movie clean enough for the legion of old people who save the day in the end to come to the screening and not be offended. Well, in that case, you succeeded Mr. Skelding. Too bad the movie sucks.

 -- Rick Stanko