At one point later on, it possesses a martial arts expert and assassin to fulfill its horde. The vengeful spirit wisely chooses the most deplorable human beings it can find, then sneaks up on them and zaps them with a poorly animated but colorful energy ball oddly reminiscent of the female alien banging Steve Guttenberg in “Cocoon.” It begins by transforming a rapist in an alley after he overtakes an innocent bar patron. The Angry Voice Over (I didn’t catch the actual credit, nor do I wish to) employs his minions in a fashion that reminded me so much of corny 80’s sci-fi thrillers (“Galaxy of Terror” and “Lifeforce” being two of my faves), it all started to grown on me once again. I wonder if anyone in Detroit would even notice? We are then introduced to the true villain of the piece, a disembodied and profane voice that has returned to “The D” to assemble an army of zombies and carry out its maniacal plot to transform the city into a living Hell. Unfortunately, that two minutes stretches out into a small eternity at around the twelve-second mark. Though an insane amount of time is spent upon characters and dialogue more apropos of an “After School Special” from the days of yore, “BZFD” does tend to think a bit more outside the box than the standard zombie flick. The opening credits, a slow and lusty crawl about a chromed-out tankslapper (for those of you not hip to the lingo, I have no clue what that means either), try to be so simultaneously artful and foreboding, you’ll want to enjoy it. However, the same can easily be said for “Ford Fairlane,” and yet it still called out to me like a siren from my Netflix queue. Created on a budget approximating the change I lost to my sofa cushions last night when I passed out whilst watching “The Adventures of Ford Fairlane,” this is one poor example of proper film making. After all, with a title like this current offering, one finds it tough to even pretend to foster expectations going in, which “BZFD” definitely has in its favor. I refuse to bring an overly favorable comportment to a viewing merely because the movie is locally produced. That merits note to your average country bumpkin, which I am at heart.įret not, friends. I live just up the street from where some of this was filmed. Thumbing its nose contrarily at its own title, “‘Biker Zombies From Detroit” (“BZFD” until the final paragraph) is set in the suburb of Grosse Pointe, yet shot in every surrounding city that isn’t Grosse Pointe. It’s an exciting prospect, to view a film from your neck of the woods when your particular neck isn’t a common stomping ground for motion pictures.

Rocktropia zombie biker prospect