It is very rare that film can be genuinely called "unique' but it is a description that can genuinely be applied to Zombies Lake for this film, directed by J.A. Laser, is unlike any other in the history of the cinema.
The story is simple; a small village in France, or Italy, or Belgium, or Spain is invaded by Nazi soldiers during the second world war. Wreaking havoc, they earn the enmity of all the villagers, with the exception of one young girl. Stalked by a German soldier, within a few minutes she falls passionately in love with her would-be attacker.
But then the villagers exact their revenge. The soldiers are stormed and their bodies disposed of in a local lake. There is much rejoicing throughout the village, except for the young girl now pregnant by her beloved storm-trooper.
The child is born, thirty years pass, and we are now in modern day - or, at least, the late seventies- but the little girl is, confusingly, still only eight years old. Life is idyllic and quiet in the village until the Nazis start to claim their revenge but this time No More Mr Nice Guys. Or even Mr Live Guys. Whenever anyone is foolish enough to dally beside the Lake, zombies in once-smart uniforms rampage but terribly slowly. A passing female basketball team who frolic happily in the lake to an instrumental cover of Finland's entry in the 1972 Eurovision Song Contest come to a very nasty end.
The story mainly follows the common banal route of monsters munching their way through extras, with the stock cast of female journalist desperate for a story, cynical police, pompous mayor etc. But towards the end a bizarre twist emerges with the development of a would-be touching relationship between the little girl and her dead father. A scene where she feeds her zomboid dad fresh blood from a bucket is truly bizarre.
In the end, good old napalm saves the day.
The camera work is reminiscent of You've Been Framed; the direction non-existent; the editing of the "oops, me scissor's slipped" school; the acting is, at worst, peculiar, and, at best, downright peculiar; and the dubbed dialogue defies the English language - and the actors' lip movements. The make-up involves painting the face green and a liberal use of Rice Crispies and Copydex, whilst continuity and period detail are, frankly, useless. Also the underwater scenes clearly betray the floral tiles of the swimming pool where filming took place.
But is it scary? That's the whole purpose of a horror film, after all. Zombies should be foolproof as they capitalise on our horror of death plus our fear of the familiar becoming treacherous. However the circumstances of viewing are a major factor. If this had been watched at 2 in the afternoon, sun streaming through the windows, cherryade in one hand and kebab in the other, and in the company of a few friends, then chills would be in very short supply. On the other hand, watched at midnight in a large and inexplicably creaky house, thunderstorm in mid-fulmination outside, some weaker, over-imaginative souls (e.g. me) may be forced to keep the light on that night, crucifix and flame-thrower to hand.
But should children be allowed to watch it? Of course not. They are far too sophisticated and would much prefer Resident Evil. But the important question facing society today is: would it inspire violence in the viewing public?
Only against the director.