George A. Romero's companion piece to his Night of the Living Dead, set largely (and inspirationally) in a suburban Pittsburgh shopping center, less a sequel than a remake, a new and improved version with slicker technique and gaudier special effects, and positively guaranteed not to disappoint even the most hysterical fans of the earlier film. It is gratuitously, scandalously, nose-thumbingly gory. But it also offers the wickedest laughs of any American movie since Beyond The Valley of the Dolls — unless, of course, you are one of those persons who under no circumstances can admit the possibility of there being anything humorous about, for example, a flesh-eating zombie having the top of his head sliced off, very thin like Oscar Mayer's luncheon meats, by a helicopter propeller, and then going into a rubber-kneed wobble as though he had just experienced Teofilo Stevenson's right hand. (2023) — Duncan Shepherd
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