Zombieland Review

Firstly, some definitions: Zombieland is a quality comedy, with zombies. It is not that bone-headed misnomer, a "comedy horror". In fact, with the honorable exception of An American Werewolf In London, and maybe the odd Evil Dead, such a hybrid doesn't really exist, despite po-faced, rent-a-quotes academics testifying how the impulse to laugh and scream are a mere hair's breadth apart. Yeah, right. That's why the genuinely terrifying films - Psycho, The Exorcist, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre - had them rolling in the aisles.

This doesn't mean a real horror film can't have a sly sense of humour too, but, chances are, anyone attempting laughs and scares picks a side early on, then fudges matters with a layer of gore or gaffes. From the off, with gimmicky, ultra-slow-motion zombie ambushes on hapless victims - and the film's credits - debut director Ruben Fleischer and his writers Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick go straight for the funny bone. Sure, there's guts galore too but all in service of a series of nifty gags, starting with cowardly Jesse Eisenberg's deadpan reading of his rules of survival, like "Cardio" - simply outrunning the out-of-shape undead (not much fruit and veg in an all-meat diet); or "Seatbelts" - sending said predators through the car windscreen when you brake.

Rule No.1, though, is to hook up with a badass zombie killer, like Woody Harrelson's Tallahassee (he nicknames Eisenberg 'Columbus' after his own hometown; no names, so there's nothing personal if they have to bash each other's heads in). Soon enough the two are scammed by young hustlers and sisters Wichita (Emma Stone) and Little Rock (Little Miss Sunshine's Abigail Breslin) and the misfit quartet set off for, uh, a Californian amusement park. Hey, if it's the end of the world, who wouldn't want to blow away zombies while they loop the loop? Plus, there are no queues.