THE SUPERNATURALS
Uhura and LaForge, together at last
LeVar Burton keeps referring to people as "cats" in this movie. Yes, folks, it's the man who was born to play Sammy Davis Jr. Too bad the role went to Don Cheadle.
Nichelle Nichols stars as a grizzled army sergeant (captain? Major? Grand High Poobah?) who surely must have breathed a sigh of relief when that "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" thing came into effect. She's leading a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears recruits on a training exercise (what they're being trained to do, I can't tell, and neither can they) in the rural south. Soon enough, they're beset by the zombified corpses of a bunch of Confederates who were made to walk across their own minefield by them damn Yankees. (there were landmines in the Civil War?)
Walter Hill fans like myself will be calling this one "Southern Comfort, with zombies" in no time flat. While I'm making this all sound pretty lame, it's actually not bad, with a number of exciting and creepy moments. The pace is pretty quick, and it zips by in under 90 minutes. It's entirely too tame - on-screen violence is minimal, even though it's greatly desired (who the hell wants a zombie movie without buckets of on-screen violence?) - but it's still mostly an enjoyable ride.
Released straight to video, back when that was a novel concept. I'm pretty sure that that's Nichols singing over the closing credits (she's got an album, you know) (and so has Data) (and I'm sure you're all passingly familiar with Shatner and Nimoy's musical excretions - I mean, excursions. Now THAT'S horror.).