Lesbian
Trans
People of Color
Drag Queen/King
Picture it: Brooklyn, 2025. A warehouse drag party packed with divas, club kids, and enough highlighter to blind the CDC. The beats are pounding, the wigs are higher than rent, and suddenly – bam! – the dead decide they want in on the guest list.
Tina Romero – yes, baby, George A. Romero’s daughter, zombie royalty herself – has risen from the cinematic grave to give us a horror-comedy that’s as queer as it is gory. Queens of the Dead isn’t your daddy’s zombie flick (unless your daddy’s wearing lashes and a leather harness). This one’s got heart, humor, and a death-drop so fierce it might resurrect you.
🧟♀️ Drag Me to Hell, But Make It Fashion
Let’s get one thing straight – oh wait, nothing here is straight. This film is a full-on drag ball of carnage. The cast is stacked like a double D corset: Margaret Cho, Nina West, Dominique Jackson, and a gaggle of glitter-soaked queens ready to slay, serve, and maybe survive.
The story? A bunch of queens trying to out-perform each other when the apocalypse hits mid-performance. Imagine RuPaul’s Drag Race meets The Walking Dead, but with better contour and worse decisions. There’s shade flying, heels clicking, and zombies catching more hands than compliments.
And honey, the looks – oh the looks. Blood-splattered stilettos. A corset made of caution tape. Someone even turns a ring-light into a weapon (the innovation!). It’s camp, chaos, and couture – just the way drag was meant to be: beautiful, bloody, and louder than your ex at last call.
💅 Death-Drops & Deep Cuts
Underneath the rhinestones, there’s actually a point. Tina Romero isn’t just serving horror realness; she’s honoring her dad’s legacy while queering the apocalypse. In a world where the club was one of the few safe spaces, she asks – what happens when even that gets invaded?
There’s commentary tucked under the contour: how queer folks have always had to fight – sometimes literally – for their right to dance, love, and exist. The zombies become a metaphor for the world that wants to consume queer joy but can never quite kill it. (We just keep getting up and reapplying the lipstick, baby.)
And let’s talk tone: this isn’t trauma porn, it’s triumph in thigh-highs. Critics are calling it “silly and kind,” “queer as hell,” and “the most fun you’ll have watching someone lose a wig and an arm.” It’s horror that hugs you while it bites you. And isn’t that the dream?
🎶 Soundtrack of the Slain
The music? Picture a drag brunch DJ possessed by a demon with taste. Disco, house, a little death metal just for spice. Every beat drop syncs with a body drop, and somehow it works. One minute you’re screaming, the next you’re voguing.
Visually, it’s a buffet of color – think neon lighting, body glitter, and blood that looks like melted Jell-O shots. It’s giving Priscilla, Queen of the Desert meets Shaun of the Dead, directed by someone who owns both a fog machine and emotional intelligence.
And girl, the dialogue? Deliciously quotable. Lines like “If I die tonight, tell my followers I went viral” and “She may be undead, but that tuck is eternal.” You can practically hear the audience snapping their fingers in delight.
👑 The Final Verdict
Look, not every joke lands, and some scenes are messier than my drag bag after Pride weekend. But that’s the point. Queens of the Dead is proudly, defiantly messy – because so are we. It’s a love letter to the queer community’s resilience, our dark humor, and our ability to find light (and glitter) in the apocalypse.
So, should you watch it? Baby, yes. Stream it, scream it, drag your friends to the theater in full face and fishnets. Because in a world that keeps trying to silence us, this film lets us moan, shriek, and belt a power ballad while bashing a zombie with a sequined heel.
Final Score: 10 out of 10 heels impaled through undead skulls.
Best Line: “Girl, if the end is nigh, I’m dying fabulous.”
Mood: Camp, chaos, and catharsis.
