On the heels of Zombieland 2: Double Tap, another undead farce could be an insurmountable stretch for viewers to rekindle for. Haven’t we lampooned, spoofed and tar-and-feathered the whole sect of flesh-eaters yet? Could there possibly be another oblique angle for Little Monsters to capitalize on? As it turns out, this Australian romp doesn’t warrant its accessibility with the wanton annoyance of a bickering couple finally separating from each other.
Any indication that film will incorporate zombies is postponed at first for the commitment-phobic yarn of petulant musician Dave (Alexander England). Dave isn’t the most patriarchal figure since he is practically conjoined to his guitar, bong and a headset for ultraviolent video games.
To wit, Dave is a shrill centerpiece and frankly, his arc towards aleatory maturity/surrogate parenthood is too puerile. For instance, his clinical description of a “douche bag” to his kindergarten-age nephew Felix (Diesel la Torraca), is a stunningly unfunny example of Dave’s sitcom inappropriateness.
Every joke is caterwauled to the rafters and the sheer decibel level of the characters is more plangent than jocose. While Dave’s Peter Pan syndrome is a feckless source for politically incorrect humor, Josh Gad is a preening blast as Mr. McGiggles, the children’s shot entertainer.
Lupita Nyong’o’s shtick is to garrison the 5-year-olds’ doe-eyed innocence while the hordes encircle them but it unravels into boorishness much like the rest of the film (e.g. With her dress encrusted with blood, she prevaricates that she was “caught in a strawberry jam fight”). The jeopardy of an epinepherine pen for a dairy allergy is apocryphal since the film is too spineless for ragamuffin genocide.