Code Red
Introduction
Introduction
Yay. Let’s make a wish, since it’s, like… 22/22. If we had 4 eyes our vision would be perfect. Let’s talk about the brain’s ability to re-purpose neural pathways regarding head trauma and re-learning something lost by utilizing “spare” brain power… about how when you’re blind, your brain begins using some of the brain power initially tasked with computation of vision- and yes, it takes work, since we biologically see the inverse of what is before us and it’s only a learned response to interact with the world the way it is. (Could this be part of the multiverse or master-simulation or whatnot? That we actually see things upside down, but learn to process them “correctly”?)
Because that’s how it goes. You dangle a kitten above a newborn baby’s head, they’re gonna reach for their feet. Because feet are just inherently more interesting to a baby than just about anything else. Can you touch your feet? Not just standing and bending and touching your toes as a show of fitness, but what about lying back on your bed, can you grab your feet above you?
There is now a new way of, in a very generalized sort of approach, measuring your remaining lifespan, and that comes down to “Can you stand on one foot for more than 12 seconds?” Shit, it might just be 10 seconds? 7? But I read something about it and if you can’t do the test- which is binary- you stand X% higher chance of dying within the next 7 or so years, simply because you’ve let your body go, or age has progressed, or you’ve huffed too much glue.
But the point is, if you can pass this test, you’re probably gonna live past the 7 or so years that I think it focuses on, and if you can’t, chances are you’re gonna die within them same 7 years or so. The point of all this is that if there were more tigers, we’d be much more inclined to follow rule #1. Cardio.
And aside from that, to go back to where we kinda started this, think of all the vision that you don’t use. It’s a hard concept, but consider out of your field of view, how much less do you “see” when you’re wearing a baseball cap? Average response of the average idiot is to put on a hat, tilt their head back, look up, and say “I don’t lose any of my field of vision when I wear a baseball cap.” and this is when you notice that I took your cheeseburger and took off while you were distracted.
But if not, you’re proven my point. That maybe I should go back on Prozac. I was driving today and I was thinking and having all sorts of simultaneous thoughts the way you only can when you’re freshly caffeinated and higher than shit. Well, that’s a lie. I wasn’t caffeinated at all. I am now tho. But I was driving the winding roller-coaster of a road, which is the paved equivalent of a double black-diamond goat trail carved into the red dirt of the west hill, and I was going “WHEEEEE!!” as I barely kept the car on the pavement.
I wasn’t sliding around or anything, just being so fucking unconcerned with the minutia of steering that as long as all the wheels were on pavement and nothing was going crunch I was just sort of enjoying how the car leapt forwards when I pushed the gas, and how I swayed back and forth going around the turns, and I experienced 1: “Driving is FUN!” 2: “I’m not really paying attention to my driving.” 3: “I am driving faster than I usually do on this road.” 4: “Maybe I should consider taking my Prozac.” 5: “But I’m having a lot of fun going “WHEEEE!!” and I don’t want to stop!! EVER!!”
Then, buried in there with thoughts about the gym and wondering the status of the fight room, I had the repeated “Maybe I should be taking my Prozac.”. So- there’s the big confession right there, the Jim Bakker crocodile tears fucking up a transvestite’s worth of makeup, I’m gonna be hard to follow because A: Prozac = Zero B: Coffee = Yes. Trying desperately to bring this one back to course… maybe just turn into it and floor the gas and see if I fishtail a full 360?
You had to LOOK up to see up, but that didn’t bother you. The reality is that you’re not “seeing” about 20% of your field of vision. It’s getting processed, but since it’s just the underside of the bill of a cap, your brain knows to ignore it. So you don’t perceive twenty percent of your field of vision being blocked. And, like you said, when you want to see up, you look up.
So I propose that everyone- upon some random age that I’ll leave up to the scientists and phrenologists and urologists and pancreatitis to figure out the fine details such as how and when and, you know… what… but I hereby posit that if we all had surgically implanted baseball caps onto our heads, our vision for the remaining ~80% of our unobstructed sight would improve proportionally as those vision circuits for the “above the brim” sight would eventually re-task to assist with modified, reduced field of vision duties.
Either that or we’d start being able to smell things in a new way, like associating a color or emotion with a scent, or maybe we’d all be able to hear things like changes in magnetic fields. I have no idea, I’ve never worn a hat for long enough to realize my full potential. I have learned more limits to my powers, though.
I’m still very capable of fucking up the sterilization process. I have found mold in 3 of the 9 BRF jars that I started. The slightly better news is the jars that are not showing mold seem to be, well… I hate to get optimistic, but I think things are working as they ought to. Birds and Bees and mycelium trees and all that.
I heard back from the liquid culture supplier, and she’s got some syringes inbound, as well as I’ve ordered 20 agar plates and have crowd-begged some spore swabs. I also think I know how I’m going to build the HEPA Laminar Flow system. So, like, it’s fucking MacGyver time. Yup. Just heard back from a guy and we got us a deal lined up for tomorrow. Cool. Ok. He seems drunk tho. Like, I think you *can* tell through text.
I’ve been at the gym the past couple days. Running. Didn’t think I could run at 170bls, but powerwalking only got me from 165 to 170, so fuck it. This is do or die. This is prepping for my seven seconds on one leg proof of concept and proof of life. I need to get back into surfing. Saw a picture of a wetsuit, and I thought “I got a wetsuit.” immediately afterwards followed by the harsh realization that they can’t take a wetsuit in or let it out.
I’ve been looking towards getting into fighting shape, both to reclaim my identity and as a possible out if wanted on the Ukrainian front, but there’s something else that can now motivate me. I… I want to surf again. I have no idea how the switch got switched, but I want to surf again. I want to paddle out, and float with my legs dangling into shark territory, and feel the shock of the cold water hitting when you rinse after warming the suit… Yeah, that means pissing in it. Most people who use a wetsuit do it. The fucking things are a bitch to get into and out of, so…
Earlier, when I surfed, I was out in October or November or some god-forsaken cold since that’s when the waves are best this spot of Oregon… I was so cold when I came in that I couldn’t get my fingers to work my wetsuit’s zipper. My fingers on my right hand were white like maggots from the underside of a corpse, and I controlled them with the same agility as an eight-year-old blindly slapping a slab of Jell-O against a sliding glass door.
I’m hallucinating ants. This isn’t a good thing. Sometimes, they’re not hallucinations, though, like the spider that either was hiding under the blender this morning or possibly in the container of mixed baby power greens that I blend into my shake. If one spider leapt from my hand as it approached the blender’s mouth, how many were caught slipping and unawares and ended up in my belly as gym fuel today?
White fingers. I had my adventure dog with me though, she would wait in the car when I was surfing. Somehow I managed to get the door unlocked, and I made her lie on her back and expose her belly in the backseat, and then I folded my frozen hand into where her belly and leg meet, which is a nice warm pocket. I don’t know why, but she didn’t bite me. She really wasn’t pleased, though. Finally, she warmed my hand up enough that I could operate a zipper, and I got the cold wet black suit off and the car running, and I drove to the nearest McDonalds and bought her a couple of McDoubles.
Do you think dogs resent their humans for not liking food that the dog likes? Let’s use anchovies as an example. I assume dogs like them, since they’re really salty and guaranteed to be something that you do not want your dog panting on you on a hot summer day. I personally have a deep and intense loathing of damn near all things pickled, which I have delved into in earlier Guide entries and will not re-hash. But suffice it to say, fuck sardines. Half-rotted little oil sponges…
So, I have never ordered a pizza with anchovies. I’ve never eaten a pizza with anchovies. I don’t be friends with people who do anchovies. Yet my dogs are adopted; one, from the kennel when she was about 4, and the other from a highway transient when she (the pitbull, not the transient) was also about 4. So both of these dogs have had plenty of chances to eat pizza that other people ordered. And maybe those fucking heretics liked sardines.
“Give me double of them slimy bastards!” they’d order, and then the dogs would get a couple tastes here and there, and since they’re young and impressionable beasts, they find that they like the foul filth of the sardine. They know that every time a pizza shows up, it could have sardines on it. It’s not like Dominos changed when they moved locations and owners.
But what if they’re sitting here, hoping for sardines each time my wife orders pizza, and each time yet even more disappointed when she repeats her same order faithfully? The dogs have to be aware that something my wife is doing leads to pizza, ‘cause all their body language changes once she hits that “BUY NOW!” button on her app, but since Sardines never show up, can’t you see how they could be resentful?
Replace sardines with olives, pepperoncini, whatever you want: if your dog had a life before you, consider this. If possible, they would most probably order a very different pizza than you. It could even be a pizza with one of the unforgiveable sins, like Pineapple. Imagine having a dog that ordered Hawaiian pizza? I’d be so pissed off.
So anyway, I says to Mable, I says… There’s only one reason that I’m all spun up on the good stuff from them brown beans and flying high on them sticky oils. I accidently found a zombie movie that for some unfathomable reason, I’m really excited to watch tonight. I have no idea why. I’ve already wandered the house with a handgun peering out of the windows, and like I said, I kinda feel like I should start taking my Prozac again, but… I wanna watch a movie and it’s my Guide so I’m gonna. Welllll… SHIT.
Now I can’t find the movie again. I’m going to keep trying. Mind the gap! Bing! A-HA!! Now that I found it, I remember why I instantly wanted to watch it. Code Red “A Special Forces soldier is sent into Bulgaria when a chemical agent from WWII is uncovered that can reanimate the dead.” Yeah. Words. But that name.
Code Red. I used to drink Mountain Dew. I liked it since it was sweet and made you energetic. I liked Diet Mountain Dew. I have no problem with it, as a drug. However, I did once watch what I believe was a documentary (but the world has shown me a fool time and time again, so who knows) where some Appalachian kid said “I brush my teeth with Mountain Dew!”. But he drew it out, so it was more like “Moun’tn Doooo!”.
I got in an argument when I made this joke once. When I was in undergrad and working as Assistant Manager of a video game store, we’d split a Mountain Dew cube for a shift. B______, I wonder how your life turned out. C___, I wonder how your life turned out. K____? Whatever your name was? You fat lazy ginger bastard.
I hope you fell off a loading dock and broke all your ribs landing half-in and half-out of a dumpster, and that you ended up in the dumpster, and that no-one would help you get up or out until the ambulance arrived, and that they kept saying things like “Don’t move! Lie still! You might have hurt your back!” as cold rotted restaurant sludge ran down your body and puddled in around your nuts. And I hope the ambulance was fucking late.
But Code Red Mountain Dew was just becoming a thing, or maybe it had already been a really successful thing, and they were coming out with all sorts of colors and flavors and experiences and shit and I remember feeling threatened by all the choices and deciding that going forward, as a protective measure, I was going to mock people who enjoyed any Mountain Dew flavor other than the original.
Turns out one of my best friends for a long while, Panama, was a massive Code Red drinker. At least, I think he was. Alcoholism sorta makes everything from then fuzzy. So… Uh… A single special forces soldier. They’re meant to function in small teams, not individually. They’re soldiers, not ninja, dammit. Bulgaria? Why? Why there? And, yeah, old shit. Old shit is always cool. Old shit is always better than the new stuff. Just look at Mountain Dew.
Review Notes
Review Notes
Very artistic opening…
Shadows
Fuck, I’m hacking up half a lung.
Horns!
Black and white!
WW2!!
Stalingrad! Crucial! Germans! Barricades! Oil! Sick! Genius! Died! Battle!
Jesus CHRIST, the fucking cat has already glitched! The camera’s focus suddenly snaps into focus and we’re in the middle of a war zone and bullets are hitting a guy and it’s like WHOAH to watch and then a guy is all bloody and screaming and we’re all WOW! WOW! and then a trio of planes fly overhead and the camera rolls back 180, following them, so then as they bomb their target, it’s all upside down. Just the way nature and Chuck fucking Converse intended it!
But, fer, like, reals… this is kewl.
Uh, this is some of the coolest combat footage I’ve seen. This rules!
It’s all grey palate unless it’s red, and it’s about 50/50 for screentime.
Oh. Uh. Someone… a lot of people just killed… I’m not sure what happened. I think an American got stabbed in the eye. With a bayonet. That was on a rifle. That the German dude picked up and, like, side-armed in desperation.
Exploding corpse! BEST exploding corpse ever!
So much red!
I barely understand what’s going on but I love it. Feels like real chaos, you know?
I fucking LOVE the MP-40!!
That dying guy is all full of red and snivels.
WHAT? The wall just exploded? Or he did? What the fuck?
If they could make soldiers that exploded upon death, they would. And it would be a matter of a conversation before they weaponized the deaths of the soldiers, changing them from soldiers to kamikaze drones. I fucking hate people.
Oh! Just remembered to order an alcohol lamp from Amazon! Smert!
This is some Saving Private Ryan type shit!!
Otto? You’re a useless blind maggot from the underside of the corpse, aren’t you?
So much red!
So many dead.
A doctor… who doesn’t appear to want to go downstairs.
Can’t believe that standing on a balcony like that would be a good idea, Allied Forces assaulting the premises and all that…
I… can’t believe a major Nazi would kill himself without a final salute.
What the fuck? Everything is red. I think… that one Nazi is the last one?
Smoking a cigarette. Good deal.
Modern days, eh?
Guy is talking like he’s on quaaludes.
Back in Nazi times… Well, Allied times, now.
Dead bodies everywhere.
Bombing raid…
A parachute… barrel?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s bad news.
A gas though? Everything covered with a powder?
Got his gas mask on.
Only slightly hyperventilating.
We have a SHIT ton of zombies out there!
Everything is herky jerky, but really good!
That tubby putz isn’t a Ranger.
A history lesson?
Oh, shit! Shot the zombie and it did a full flip backwards.
Whoooo…. that was fucking awesome. Last survivor type shit.
Such a beautiful shot as it pulls away through the Horde. Zombies lurching around everywhere. So good!
Gas in a warehouse? But… it’s already out. They’re having zombie issues.
Fucking thing is being set up like a video game.
Oooh! A sigil!
Nice big old K5 maybe?
Scenic Bulgaria. In all it’s… seagull joy.
This in-car green-screen is a fail. Should have had them actually sit in a vehicle being towed around.
A deviation? From plan?
I… would quote the angry dwarf troll woman, but I can’t. Imagine something from a urban version of Labyrinth cursing in patois and throwing up gang signs.
Little girl speaks perfect unaccented American English.
I think that kid’d have a side-arm.
Mom allows you to open up the door to strangers, but not talk to them? So… what the fuck are you opening the door for? Wordless candy transactions for a worthy feline-rescue-related cause?
What the fuck is going on? The night queen might…?
This is strange.
Miriam. Show the kid that they trust with a knife but not a gun your toys.
Lotta skin without anything shown. Yay.
A report. Grossly negligent. Blah blah blah.
Looking at some guy’s nuts or dick or something? She’s that kinda doctor?
Chemical emergency?
“He was down on minus 8.”
In-tubation. Yuck.
Ok, he’s dead. Got it.
Ok. He’s twitching. Got it.
Oh. Shit. That. Escalated. Quickly.
Dead guy got a bunch of boils and then went full batshit and she shot him in the head.
That was intense.
Is she wearing a wig?
Are they even in the same room?
Both armies are splitting duties? Sure.
So, the Bulgarians look like Russians in bad costumes.
“Bulgarian Army has always been respected around the world.” No. It hasn’t. It’s got about as much respect as the Madagascarian Army. All hail King Julien!
Ohh… they’re in disagreement!
Why are the Bulgarians speaking in English?
Oh, they all hate that poor little girl.
Damn, that is one POS bus.
The rabid gnome!
Toast… and pickles? What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s not mothering, that poison! Cat is glitching again!
They’re… on an island? Is Bulgaria an island? I don’t know shit. Hang on a second. Gonna look into this.
“Bulgaria, officially the Republic of Bulgaria, is a country in Southeast Europe. It is situated on the eastern flank of the Balkans, and is bordered by Romania to the north, Serbia and North Macedonia to the west, Greece and Turkey to the south, and the Black Sea to the east.” Not only that, I pulled up Maps and scoured their oceanside from Krapets to Resovo and there is not a single fucking inhabitable island. So… Where, again, is this movie taking place? Hmm?
You can tell he’s bad because he’s wearing a black leather jacket.
A very insipid and lame strip club, where once again, they’re speaking English.
That looks like a crackhead version of Quentin Tarantino.
That’s a dude. A dude miggit. What the fuck?
Looks like a horse’s mouth.
If you’re down for good, you should have said that from the start. Not that you were delaying.
Pissed?
He… the miggit? What?
Our hero, showing his abs, lounging around…
“Those fireworks will make all of our problems vanish.” See, I’ve found the opposite to be the truth. They get you arrested, which is when your problems start. Well, maybe they start when you develop ASPD. And then your brother sends you a cache of explosives for your birthday. And then your mom gets mad at HIM for sending them to you, since the whole family knows you’re a drunken idiot who can’t be trusted. Seriously. A common refrain between my wife and I is that I shouldn’t be in charge of anything.
Wow, this guy is a shithead. This is not how you… and you DON’T slap your right hand.
Oh, jeeze. This guy thinks he’s Tom Cruise. “Bring me my slightly tighter and blacker t-shirt!”
Ok, he’s snuck into some place or something.
Damn, these Bulgarians are talking “shit”
Watching this guy, I can’t help think of Jonathan Maberrys Joe Ledger. Or, you know. Tom Cruise.
Oh, shit! That place has been rigged to blow up!
Well, Joe Ledger he ain’t. He’s down for the count.
His discarded flashlight… the… sigil…
Dude shot his own troops? What a dick!
BOOM!
So much BOOM!
Damn! That’s a lot of BOOM!
Fucking chaos everywhere.
The emergency services play in English.
Using gunfire to herd the crowd…
Into a bunker?
No children allowed?
How are people not being trampled?
So many slow motions of people in emotional anguish to classical music.
You saw her get locked out. Why do you think you’re gonna find her?
Now she’s all alone? Where did everyone else who wasn’t allowed in go?
Such a pointless conversation.
Can we have more zombies?
Can we have less chat?
Can we please get back to the movie?
So, little girl ran home?
There’s red all over that door…
Oh, shit!
The troll lady is a zombie!
The troll lady zombie is a battering ram!
That’s one less TV and one hell of an awesome nerd…
Well, was.
Oh, shit, this is awesome!!
Zombie! Truck! Crash! FUCK YEAH!
These zombies are the fucking SHIT!
Dude got bit by his own daughter! That’s, just, atrocious. And stuff.
I’d have shot him too. Maybe a couple seconds later.
Ooh! They got infected in the bunker with them!
People are bleeding out they eyes and ripping and attacking and biting and going “Ough Ough Ough!”
Mom wants to find her daughter.
Idiots… everyone is a bunch of idiots. That’s what I think.
Wait, what? That guy? He’s still in the movie?
Bonding over bullying?
This shit is QUITE improbable.
If I was that dude, I’d be quite content to stay locked in the truck.
He is quite the bad-ass. As he puts on his slightly darker coat.
I would have rather they cast a 12lb block of concrete with the words “The kid” stenciled on the side instead of this girl. Would have done a better job, too.
The general is such a selfish jerk!
Nice APCs! WANT WANT WANT!
Oh! Shit! Got lulled into a state of stupid! Hit a zombie! There goes the windshield!
YAY! DRUGS! THE SNORTY KIND!
Twitiching hooker!
Angry pimp!
Double barreled shotgun!
Startled! What the fuck?
They got red on them.
Never seen a zombie get thrown into an aquarium like that!
Dude! You shot your own dude!
Faith No More fish…
Oh, the pimp got WORKED. So much red!
That apartment is trashed. There’s so much red!
The hero saves the girl from zombies.
Oh, wait, yeah… the hero’s wife and daughter died at some point.
I think the little girl is being chased by the zombie bully.
Hero shot the little zombie kids.
Ok. Anything centered around the little girl is getting ignored from this point on.
Mr. Bunny. Dude, go kick rocks.
Whoops! It’s a Code Red! That means “Kill all civilians!”
Oh! They’re being chased by an APC! This is new!
Yet, it’s so quickly getting old.
The APC’s natural enemy! The TUNNEL!
Grub? Like the maggot from the underside of a corpse?
That… That was a very efficient slaughter and burning of a large group of zombies.
So, they’re not being rescued, but they’re not being killed… This makes no sense.
I shouldn’t have eaten a pound of frozen strawberries. I’m so fucking cold.
You just explained that there was no way a kid could live. Now you’re using the idea of her kid waiting for her as motivation?
There is so much fucking cheese here it’s aggravating my lactose intolerance.
Those things are fucking diesels! Stop saying gas!
“Harold? We need to take some water.” What? Says who?
Oh, the door to get water is locked? End scene.
That Bulgarian soldier speaks perfect English?
Now they can’t get close enough to the pump. Bullshit. An APC goes where an APC wants to go.
Who? What the fuck? More bad guys?
Or are these good guys?
Harold, you get zero respect.
This has turned into a Steven Segal level “cluster-fuck-from-hell-make-it-up-as-we-go-flailing”
Of course. He has to use ju-jitsu to kill that zombie.
4 more minutes. I can do 4 more minutes…
Back to the bridge, again.
I covet their APC.
And then the American military shows up and commandeers the scene in a Scottish accent.
Wow. I didn’t expect that ending, but… Too little, too late.
————End Transmission——————–
Plot Autopsy
Plot Autopsy
- Some of the best PEWPEWPEWPEWBLAMBLAM KA-BOOM!! in such a long while
- Uh… some fat Scottish guy drinking whiskey and talking to a guy
- The guy uses his… talking… to talk. And the Bulgarians, well… They listen.
- Except there’s something kinky going on about zombies and then the kid goes missing
- So much time wasted on the kid and shit. Filler. Whole movie could have been an epic 40 minutes.
- We limp to an ending so pathetically divorced from the awesomeness of the beginning that we slap both parents and accuse them both of cheating.
Zombie Description
Zombie Description
I think both Russia and Germany were trying to make possibly undead super soldiers towards the end of WW2, and then there’s a big battle where a barrel bomb goes off and everyone turns into a zombie except the guy who managed to get his gas mask on. And then we jump forward in time and find out that he left behind a journal of insane scribblings and an Egyptian glyph of import… So… if you inhale the gas or get bit by a zombie you get boils all over you and your eyes bleed and then you go batshit and rabid and try killing everyone around you. Pretty typical, I think. Pretty damn good. These zombies get pretty deformed in the process, and they did a great job.
Where the money went
Where the money went
I think most of the money went to filming. None of it went into the script, and if any was given to the actors, it should have to be given back. The guy could sort of act, but he was given shit to work with. The two female leads? Shouldn’t have been cast. Money went to special effects, awesome camera work, renting some APCs… Didn’t get the feeling there was a whole lot invested, but they really did a great job (when they were doing a good job) of revving up the combat scenes. Too bad they got boat-anchored by the sub-plot of the kid. I gave more shits about Mr. Bunny. Money sure as shit didn’t go into anything resembling fact checking, cause they claim they’re on an island but… doesn’t fucking exist.
Best Weapon
Best Weapon
The best weapon here is the lowly potato€–masher hand grenade. I’m… I think it was a German design, so I don’t know why an allied soldier dropped it when he was shot, but… the way things landed- literally- the grenade went off and blew liquified (red) all over the remaining living German. There was much love given to the mighty AK47 here, as well as the MP40. So I was pretty much in splooge city the whole time.
That was new!
That was new!
Never seen a soldier blow up on his own grenade like that, and never seen a zombie thrown into an aquarium like that. I really enjoyed both, and they were both done quite well.
Can I get a hand?
Can I get a hand?
Umm… I really don’t know what to put here. They made their own boily-zombies, and there weren’t any corpses… well, yeah, there was some cool shit. Ok. I’m gonna take the lazy way out and say there really wasn’t much devoted to the past greats, I think if we look outside the genre we’ll find some acceptable influences. If we care to take the time.
Overall Recommendation
Recommendation?
This is multiple fucking movies. There’s a pretty brainless but fucking awesome war action movie about shooting shit and bullets and shrapnel and dust and saliva, and then there’s a end of the world fast zombies taking over kinda thriller, and then there’s… a couple of possible soap opera extras and a really cute yet annoying child playing out some lowest-common-denominator of a “try to tie the plot together in a way that pulls at the humanity heartstrings”. When I say lowest common denominator, I mean, this is the cheap malt liquor bum beer of stupid cliches in full action. A Mr. Bunny, a mom with perfect hair and makeup and implants, taller version of Tom Cruise with a heartbreakingly sad backstory… There’s very little of new in this movie, and about a good half of it really sucks. Like, worth ridiculing bad. I kept wondering if it was intentionally self-parodying, but then the little girl would start shrieking and then half-way through the scene you could see her think to herself “I’m doing a great job shrieking!” and then she’d smile for a sec and then realize “Hey, I should be shrieking instead of smiling. Ok. Now, how does that go again?” And this is kinda heart breaking, because the fist 15 or 20 minutes, when it’s back in WW2 and everything is getting shot to shit, IT’S FUCKING AWESOME. When it gets down to the zombies and shit, it’s really fucking good! But then, every… fuckit, who knows- they put the storyline of the little kid in your way like a set of spike strips and then everything grinds to an agonizingly slow… There’s just not enough zombies, which were awesome. There’s too much trying for shit that really wasn’t necessary. There is so much that’s great here that the potential, while mostly obscured, is obvious. They tried to cram too much dumb shit (that most probably a committee agreed it should all have) into what could have been a fast and tight little shoot’m up of golden greatness. Instead, you got a lot of people showing how good they can do and then some idiot in charge and out of touch doling it out as if to appease some ancient ritual that’s no longer of relevance or interest.