Zombie Cop (1991) – J.R Bookwalter.

'Some cops are rotten, but Zombie cop really stinks!'

J.R Bookwalter's indie-horror legacy is absolutely assured by his epic chunk-blower The Dead Next Door, but if Zombie Cop had been his initial foray into film-making, it would have been a whole other kettle of mouldy sardines! The Hoodoo-voodoo trope in splatter is NOT a favourite, maestro Fulci nailed it with Zombie Flesh Eaters, Umberto Lenzi kinda didn't with 'Black Demons', and Zombie Cop may have been better off leaving it unresurrected! Religion is an unholy crock, but it has frequently provided us with some genuinely beautiful art, energizing music from musicians vitriolically decrying it, and 'The Exorcist, and 'Beyond The Door', so for that, I'll give it a pass. You cannot claim Zombie Cop was 'written', I would suggest that it was ungraciously wiped from an especially ailing bottom, and artlessly smeared upon some A4 paper. A truly dire text quite often provides for a mirthsome bounty of B-horror buffoonery, and Zombie Cop is an odoriferous fromage-fest with an additionally supersized portion of corn-holed badinage.

The music is poor, clumsily executed by a wannabe Wakeman on a busted Stylophone. Having a conspicuously white dude play an Asian shop clerk was pretty classy, and I'm surprised the Clan didn't turn up to put a kink in Dr. Death's heathen neck. I must openly admit that I kinda dug on Dr. Death's anachronistic, Sax Rohmer bad guy shtick: 'She'd scream even louder, but she never had no face!!!!' and I sympathize hugely with his murderous hatred of those vapid suburbanites who indulge so iniquitously in their bourgeois 'tea parties', as they MUST BE DESTROYED!!!! To be fair, I think I may have low-balled the soundtrack, as by the zesty, car-chased conclusion, I had started to feel the groove, apologies for my initial lack of faith, good dude! Zombie Cop is luridly coated in 10 shades of schlock, and provides for a mostly fun hour, goofily well spent.