Tina Romero’s debut feature swaps gore for glitter in a zombie comedy that’s more about slaying the day than surviving the night
By Sarah G. Vincent/Boston Movie News

George Romero’s little girl is all grown up and is taking the family business in a new direction. Tina Romero’s feature film prioritizes queens slaying over scream queens, especially when navigating day-to-day challenges, which are scarier than a zombie outbreak. “Queens of the Dead” follows a colorful cast of ladies, gentlethems and family, trying to survive another day in Bushwick as the city’s denizens prepare for an Easter party showdown between two clubs: Instagram-ready Glitter Bitch versus underdog Yum Party. When the dead rise and start attacking the living, the ultimate weapon is joy! Romero and co-writer Erin Judge, along with their ensemble cast, clearly had so much fun making this film and creating their characters that they did not have the heart to kill their darlings or tighten the story’s uneven pacing.

Dressed in tie-dyed scrubs, Sam (Jaquel Spivey) works at a hospital and has not performed in drag as Samoncé Alliancé Knowles Cartier after suffering from stage fright and leaving Yum Party owner, Dre (Katy O’Brian), in the lurch. Sam is a bit underwritten and without Spivey imbuing the character with a sense of sweet vulnerability, this stage fright storyline is not given enough time to develop, mainly because over the course of “Queens of the Dead,” it appears as if Sam has everything that he needs: an amazing boss, nurse Lizzy (Riki Lindhome), who is Dre’s wife, a supportive drag mother, Yum Party host Ginsey (Nina West), and the crowd’s adulation.

Dre is also facing a bit of a crisis. It is time for her to grow up if she and her wife are going to be a family, but she is too attached to her ailing career as club producer to make it work. If merit ruled the world, O’Brian would already be a household name. From television series like “Black Lightning” to the much-lauded “Love Lies Bleeding,” where she played the spirit of She-Hulk, O’Brian is the bearer of the theme for “Queens of the Dead,” whose dialogue signals the story’s lessons. She is equal parts tough, affable, controlled and harried. After Dre watches another couple, her intern, spacey Kelsey (Jack Haven, “I Saw the TV Glow” and “Love, Brooklyn”) and Kelsey’s fiancé, lawyer Piper Callahan, aka Poppy or Pops (Margaret Cho), love each other and handle business as a unified front, Dre is inspired to grow up. This lesson feels like it contradicts the story’s overall moral, but let’s sign a waiver.

Katy O’Brian and Jack Haven in “Queens of the Dead.” (IFC/Shudder)

Other supporting storylines hint at the reason why Sam suffers from stage fright. It is easy to forget while watching “Queens of the Dead” that most of the world does not consist of queer people, and the world is hostile. After all, the characters are busy living their cheerful lives and seem rich in community, but being in a crowd is not the same as not being lonely or immune to prejudice. Nico (Tomas Matos, who puts on the best butch voice), stage name Scrumptious, and their only friend, go-go dancer Jax (Samora la Perdida), self-medicate to escape the psychological pain of life. One of Sam’s patients, Jane (Eve Lindley), is reluctant to receive medical attention because of the quotidian trans genocide that constantly erases her from denial of hormone therapy to deadnaming. The failure of the medical industry and surrounding society leads to the zombie apocalypse, leaving everyone vulnerable. While HIV is never referenced, it is impossible not to think about it, as a Hinge-like chime usually precedes an attack and a kill.

The heteronormative world does have a token in the form of Dre’s brother-in-law, Barry (Quincy Dunn-Baker), who is from Staten Island, listens to manosphere podcasts, and hits every branch on the phobia tree. “Queens of the Dead” starts off-kilter with the straight men, which includes Barry and the bartender, Jimmy (Cheyenne Jackson), ready to kill at the first threat, but ultimately being right in their suspicion. Dre questions their judgment because of their history of biased or problematic treatment of people they find strange. This initial mutual mistrust puts everyone in more danger, but as the movie continues, Barry chills out, and Dre starts to trust them. This nuanced tension held potential but is dropped quickly. Utopia is born in crisis. What a nice fairytale. Fingers crossed.

The zombie virus also becomes a metaphor for mindless social media consumers. The infected are almost indistinguishable from the Glitter Bitch clubgoers stuck on their phones, standing around and not really engaged with their surroundings or others. They care more about image than having experiences. It is one of the funnier bits in “Queens of the Dead” as Yasmine (the gorgeous Dominique Jackson, “Pose”), instead of staying in a more authentic space, chooses a more lucrative gig, but is forced to deal with insufferable people only interested in clicks and performative allyship.

The queer community is not depicted as perfect. Ageism is a factor. It is a hilarious running joke when Ginsey reacts appropriately to all the night’s dangerous events, but Nico dismisses her and calls her “Nana.” Also, Ginsey wants to know about the dating app everyone is using but keeps getting ignored. No relationships for the old heads. Awwww. By prioritizing youth, beauty and size conventions, the queer community can be superficial and lack appreciation for its few elders with dismissive, ageist attitudes that exist in the mainstream.

Because “Queens of the Dead” seems like such a personal film, and the filmmakers are so in love with replicating the spirit of their world on screen, the story loses momentum and becomes unwieldy, much as Dre is unwilling to let go of her club. It may lose viewers before it gets to its life-affirming finale. There is no center, and it meanders as if there are moments that they wanted to capture, but Judge and Romero were uncertain how to make them rise above a collection of skits.

While “Queens of the Dead” falls short of the perfection of “Party Girl” (1995), if you share the film’s sense of humor, you are going to love it. Nothing quite lives up to the opening sequence as a drag queen listed as ZombiQueen (Julie J.) leaves hosting bingo and heads to her local parish to pray and hook up with nearby matches. Julie J. is best known for the superb Manhattan TikTok series promoting Alexis Bittar jewelry as a beleaguered assistant to Margeaux, an Upper East Side diva terror who loves her juice. Losing a character who ties all the elements together and an actor who never seems to be playing a part so early means that, without a single character permitted to fill that hole, the audience is left at sea, uncertain whom to get invested in and torn in multiple directions.

If you are not into camp or cannot acclimate to the humor, you are going to be bored out of your mind, and you may find some of the acting choices unusual, but it works for the genre. It may take a couple of views to appreciate all the cute touches, but you may not want to, because it occasionally feels as if it will never end. One incisive detail is a fake commercial promoting vitamin supplements to help you survive the zombies, and a cameo from special effects master Tom Savini. The music rights may be limited, but they make a meal out of a morsel with Kesha’s “Blow” and Bizarre Inc.’s “I’m Gonna Get You.” Stay for the post-credit music video of “I’ve Got an Ax Wound.”

For hardcore horror lovers looking for a fright, pass. The scares are just not there. The point of the zombies is to externalize the outsized threats that people face and see if they will surrender to despair or live. This sentiment is not empty but a much-needed affirming defiance to dance in the face of a world aiming all its weapons at the LGBTQ+ community in what will hopefully be another futile attempt at exterminating anyone who refuses to live a double life and embraces the truth and their full selves.

‘Queens of the Dead’

Rating: Not rated

Cast: Jaquel Spivey, Katy O’Brian, Quincy Dunn-Baker

Director: Tina Romero

Running time: 1 hour 39 minutes

Where to watch: In theaters October 24

Grade: B-