Zombeavers was damned of any originality despite its gnawingly bovine title. Zombie beavers. No, not slang for the female genitalia (although the film predictably makes a joke or two regarding that), but the large semi-aquatic rodent that yearns to build wooded dams during the innocence of night. Showered in toxic chemicals from an accidental spilling, these beavers suddenly become, well, not mutated by the hazardous particulates, but instead zombies. Manically gnawing their way through telephone wires to cease communicative abilities, wooded floorings of cabins and even limbs. Suffice to say, “zombeavers” are pesky rodents indeed. So when six unlikeable horny teenagers, comprising of three couples whom “bang” out their hardships (if you catch my driftwood...) stay at a lakeside cabin for the weekend, bloodshed is bound to occur from those nibbling critters.
Rubin’s horror comedy, despite the obvious hairy nature of its title, is absent of ingenious originality, merely imitating several “mutated” creature features that preceded this viral film. ‘Eight Legged Freaks’, ‘Black Sheep’ and, rather reservedly, ‘Birdemic: Shock and Terror’. Admittedly that last entry is an abomination that makes zombie beavers idyllic pets, yet it justifiably illustrates the commonality of such (un)natural horror films. Zombeavers seemingly focusses more on the sexual lust of its despicably unappealing characters than the zombified hand puppets themselves, continuously arguing over loss of phone signal instead of meeting their grisly demise. The Kaplans’ script believes itself to be an intellectually self-aware parody, but ultimately comes across as conceited. Primarily opting for moans and screams of orgasms instead of horror. “Yeeting” beavers out of the porch window and shouting “they’re rabid” doesn’t exactly exude humour. Neither does throwing an adorable dog in the lake, offering it as a sacrifice to the beavers to provide distraction. Not cool.
The grade of practical effects were, to say the least, expected. Complacent hand puppets that emanate growls resembling the sound of Mr. Krabs’ laugh from ‘Spongebob Squarepants’. Y’know the one. “Ah-gah-gah-gah!”. Sure, they’re supposed to be funny, but an ounce of menace could’ve gone a long way in this snooze-fest. The acting was mediocre. Character deaths were uninspired, aside from the biting of a certain ding-a-ling. The introductory credit sequence was obnoxiously ostentatious. And the credit theme song tried to imitate ‘The Blob’! How dare they! Oh, and in typically zombie-fashion, what happens when one zombie scratches or bites another creature? You guessed it. Zombie human-beaver hybrid. Incisors, possessed eyes and tail included. Heck, one of the girls was “slut dropping” against a door to continuously bang the floor with her tail. Work those thighs, gurl! She got beavered!
Ahem. So, yeah. Zombeavers. Is it the new ‘Sharknado’? Hopefully not. But atleast Rubin opted for practical effects over shoddy SyFy visuals. Shame that the originality of its title is the only element that boasts an inch of individualism. Everything else? Just not funny.
