Some zombie flicks are downright sneaky. Like in the case of Mutant (1984, 100 minutes, aka. Night Shadows), now that doesn’t SOUND like the title of a brain-munching feature, but danged if it is. Ever since George Romero had a bunch of advertising types stagger around Pennsylvania farm land to make Night of the Living Dead — everyone and their trained monkey have been hacking out flesh-eater scripts. In this one, toxic waste taints the water supply causing locals to wear too much blue grease paint and ooze disgustin’ goo from their hands.
The movie: Josh and Mike Cameron are city boys who venture down the wrong country road and wind up getting rear-ended by rednecks. Unlike Ned Beatty, only their pride is bruised when a truck full of cackling yokels ram the brothers’ car into a creek. They hitchhike into town where young Mike (Lee Montgomery) finds a dead guy in an alley who somehow gets swapped for a different dude entirely before Sheriff Will Stewart (Bo Hopkins) arrives. When this fella staggers off in a drunken stupor, all that remains that jives with Mike’s story is some icky yellow slime, which Stewart scoops up for show-and-tell with his lady doctor friend. The older, cockier brother Josh (Wings Hauser) just wants to blaze out of Dodge, but can’t when he wakes to find Mike missing, and later meets a hot chick (Jody Medford) he wants to get neighborly with. He soon realizes the whole town is falling ill, and it isn’t long before the entire citizenry starts going zombie and looking at him like he’s a two-legged combo meal.
In a pseudo sequel, the principal actors wander into another town with lousy drinking water in Nightmare at Noon (1988). Women-in-prison afficionados will remember Ms. Medford as Blue Eyes in the immortal Chained Heat.
Notables: No breasts. 31 dead bodies. Redneck driving lesson. Gratuitous urination. Bar fight (with broken beer bottle). Fire-suit stunts. Zombie nose miners. Lead pipe duel. Car crash with roll over. One rubber crowbar.
Quotables: Sheriff Stewart knows how to sweet talk the broads, "You’re still the same wonderful, beautiful person — even if you ARE a woman." And how to stand proud after getting canned, "As of this morning, I’m no longer sheriff. I’ve been promoted to civilian."
Time codes: Daisy Duke paws the jukebox (13:52). Shadow of boom microphone bounces across the wall (51:00). Spastic zombie transformation — with prolonged closeups (57:15)
Final thought: Has its moments, even some decent shocks, but could benefit from tighter editing and a smidge of originality.