ZOMBEAVERS: Pure Self-Conscious B-Movie Fun

Surely many people remember the cartoon about Franklin the turtle. At the beginning of each episode, a female voice informed us that its title character already knew how to tie his shoelaces. Right after that necessary introduction, a thick plot would always begin. Franklin was surrounded by a group of loyal friends, among whom one could find a somewhat slow bear, an otter, a gosling, or a rabbit. There was also a beaver — a forest schemer who kept getting everyone into trouble. Zombeavers.

Despite my young age, it always seemed to me that there was something off about the beaver, that he was suspicious. After quite a few years, it turns out that my childhood intuition did not lead me astray. Zombeavers unequivocally proves that beavers have more on their minds than just dams made of fallen trees. They would just as gladly build barricades out of human limbs.

The plot of a film about murderous beavers is a clear nod to viewers who gnaw on this kind of cinema as regularly as amphibious rodents gnaw on the trunks of riverside trees. There is no room here for any unnecessary program items, mawkish developments of teenage love threads, or moralizing lectures that can ruin even the best worst movie.

From the very beginning to the very end, we feel that we have boarded a bus that flawlessly stops at all the stations necessary to complete the route. That things will be good is clear already within the first few minutes.

When, after a rather curious situation, a barrel of suspicious chemicals rolls into a nearby river, and the screen begins to fill with carefree animations showing beavers, felled trees, and strangely restless people, the viewer starts smiling from ear to ear. The grin does not leave one’s face until the very end of the beaver adventure.

The chemical transformation of the hardworking dam builders into bloodthirsty zombie beavers, of course, coincides with the arrival of a group of young people in the area. A trio of women almost constantly flaunting their assets check into the house of one of their cousins in order to drown their sorrows together after one of the friends has fallen victim to infidelity. The male halves of the group, however, do not give up.

The guys decide to turn the girls’ trip into a party full of sex and alcohol. At first everything goes quite well; the beavers are merely waiting for the right moment and for the viewer to enjoy the sights of scantily clad bodies and bawdy remarks. When the moaning and Homeric comparisons start to become boring, the space of the house is breached by beaver number one. From that moment on, magic happens on screen.

The rodents in their zombie version look insane — a tear comes to the eye when their murderous mugs appear within the frame. Besides, in this film everything simply works. From the screenplay, which sets the story at the right pace and avoids unnecessary lulls during which we would be waiting with growing impatience for the bloody carnage, through the acting, the designs of successive zombies, to a large dose of humor based on playing with the genre being created.

Zombeavers is the best mainstream (after all, it is produced by Universal) bad movie since the decidedly underappreciated Piranha 3D.

Jordan Rubin, making his debut as a director, like Alexandre Aja a few years earlier, knows what he is doing and what kind of material he is dealing with. Thanks to distance, awareness, and having fun, the viewer also starts to have fun with the film. Screw all the Annabelle, [REC], and other stone-faced crap about possessions and malicious spirits. Zombeavers!!!

Beaver Scriptum

Be sure to watch the film to the very end. The end-credits song knocks you flat, and after the cast list there is still one more excellent scene!