aka BIG TITS ZOMBIE, KYONYU DORAGON, BIG TITS DRAGON, & DD DRAGON
Directed & written by Takeo Nakano
Starring Sola Aoi, Risa Kasumi, Mari Sakurai, Tamao, & Io Aikawa

BIG TITS ZOMBIE may not have the heft of theme or sophisticated characters or expert level of directing patience and skill that WE ARE WHAT WE ARE has, but it is a whole lot of fun. I can see this film playing as a midnight movie and killing audiences looking for a good time. And a good time was had be all in the theater I watched BIG TITS ZOMBIE in. Sure these girls are no Meryl Streep. And sure the make-up looks like something whittled together in my backyard at times. And sure, these girls have a lot of trouble fighting zombies in high heels (the budget had to be tripled with the amount of sprained ankles these high-heeled hotties endured while filming). But with a name like BIG TITS ZOMBIES, you don’t expect a Oscar worthy film.

The movie’s plot, if you can call it that, hangs on a book found by a quartet of Japanese strippers while on assignment in a seemingly abandoned town. One of the more literary strippers (who quotes famous writers and philosophers throughout the film), decides to read from the tome and faster than you can say nipple-clamps, the dead are rising and eating the living. But in a film like this, plot is not really important. What is important can be summed up by answering the following questions;

Are the girls hot?

Are the tits big?

Is the gore gruesome?

Is it fun?

Answers: Yes, seen bigger, at times, and hellz yes!

Are the girls hot? The makers of BIG TITS ZOMBIE do a good job of knowing they have a lowbrow film on their hands and giving the concept a low, deep hug. The girls are all pretty damn hot, especially the two leads, who know kung fu about as well as they can act, but do it both in bikinis and high heeled cowgirl boots, so that shows some kind of talent. The lead hottie is pretty good at screaming the name of the latest victim when they fall to the zombie apocalypse. All in all, the cuteness of these girls make the film endearing enough to make you want to follow them every step of the way through this ridiculous journey.

Are the tits big? I’ve seen bigger, but I wouldn’t toss them out of bed for eating fortune cookies. But fear not, folks, there are quite a few pairs of breasts to be seen.

Is the gore gruesome? Sure. Some of the zombies look surprisingly good while others are horribly amateurish. During the final showdown, the effects get a lot better, but still retain an amateurish quality, which is sort of endearing, much like the rest of this film. More of the effects garnered laughs rather than retches. It didn’t help that the movie was supposed to be about a zombie apocalypse, yet the same 15 zombies showed up in every scene, some of them directly after they’d been disposed of in the previous scene.

Is the movie fun? In a word; YES. In many words; it sure the fuck is. I dunno, there’s something about scantily clad, high pitched squealing Japanese strippers that appeals to me. The film never takes itself too seriously and most of the comedy hits the right marks. I can’t say that I laughed out loud at every supposedly humorous moment, but very few of them landed with a thud. There were some unintentional laughs here and there. For some reason I thought it was hilarious when one of the strippers began speaking Spanish. And again, watching the top-heavy tarts trip around in high heels was a hoot as was the ludicrous expressions many of the zombies wore on their faces.

The film does have some fantastic scenes that have to be seen to be believed. All I will say is that the highlight scene for me gives new meaning to the term “fire-crotch”. Touted as a 3-D film, BIG TITS ZOMBIE had some of the worst three-dimensional gimmicks since CLASH OF THE TITANS. My 3-D glasses didn’t really work and gave me a bit of a headache. Luckily, only small sections of the film were in this supposed 3-D. BIG TITS ZOMBIE isn’t high art and it never tries to be. Though that could be debated. I must admit that the scene toward the end when both of our buxom zombie-killers’ bare chests are doused with blood in slow motion had me muttering to myself, “They should have sent a poet…”