The zombie cinema has suffered such hypertrophy in the last decade that the authors of Zombieland 2: Double Tap, the latest sequel to the original 2009 film, Welcome to Zombieland, and that gathered so much love and fans for the last decade (yes, welcome to zombieland was released ten years ago, which is insane, but yes, it's true, we're still trying to move on from that fact) they have no choice but to ask for excuses in a more or less way subtle in the first sentences of the story. Through the voiceover of Jesse Eissenberg's character, addressing the audience directly as a narrator, he thanks us for having gone to the movies and "for having chosen his work among so many offerings of zombie stories." Even they know that a sequel was not necessary and yet here we are, damaging another movie that had a good start with an unnecessary sequel, sadly there's nothing new in this, since we know how Hollywood studios love to mess up good stories for the benefit of the box office, instead of creating new ones.
Along the way, and since that unprejudiced, effervescent and somewhat basic comedy of the walking dead directed by the then debutante Ruben Fleischer, the incursions into the subgenre have been as constant as they are different. Thus, among the most peculiar, there have been close to the apocalyptic war (in the 2013 blockbuster starring Brad Pitt, World War Z); in children's animation format (ParaNorman, a movie with a plot almost as clever as its title); self-referential approaches from the orbit of the author's cinema (the very popular recent movie The Dead Don't Die); a wonderful metalinguistic comedy (One Cut Of The Dead), and even an outstanding sampled nonsense (Pride + Prejudice + Zombies). And this only in cinema, because on television other few series, commanded by The Walking Dead, have been rounding a redundant, crushing and too often less metaphorical and allusive to other products. So this Zombieland 2: Double Tap is reached and ends with the feeling of some helplessness in the face of the plague.
The British Zombies Party (2004) had laid the foundations of comedy, and Fleischer and her writers had accompanied her in the first installment of a spectacular choreography of violence that, yes, was running out in the absence of half an hour: shortly after Bill Murray's blatant presence literally interpreting himself. In this second part, however, everything is worse. The action sequences, their blood dances and brains in the wind, do not have that almost musical freshness, commanded by an excellent use of the idle that led to the film to a format close to the comic in its graphic composition. And the new characters, except the very jocular of the silly blonde that embroiders Zoey Deutch, have nothing attractive, this all feels tasteless, it is evident that almost the only thing here that motivated the studio to make a second part was the money, to play a safe bet and do the same they did and thought it worked in the first one.
There is not even that medium reflection on the isolation of the individual, so symptomatic of the times, reflected in one of the phrases of its young protagonist: “When there were no zombies, I avoided people as if they were zombies. And now that there are only zombies, I miss people.” Double Tap only preserves the original tonal idea and chemistry between Eisenberg and Woody Harrelson. And that is hardly anything in a franchise with no reason for this resurrection, except to try to lift Fleischer's dying career, which after that successful first long has only chained mishaps: 30 minutes or less, Gangster Squad and Venom.