At some point in the last few decades, we found the concept of the B-movie losing a lot of meaning, undoubtedly the result of filmmakers become far more self-aware, and the rise of the “so bad, it’s good” approach to genres that were often considered to be nothing more than filler, done to capitalise on both audience curiosity and essentially just make use of whatever resources were left over after the more prestigious works had been completed. Yet, we do often find that there are examples of B-movies produced in recent years that feel much closer to those made during the heyday of this style of cinema, and while no one has quite risen to the status of the likes of Val Lewton or Roger Corman (or even the more divisive figures such as William Castle and Ed Wood), there are certainly some talented artists that set out to create vibrant, entertaining works that are as enthralling as their are wholeheartedly enjoyable. This brings us to Zombeavers, a film that is best described as Friday the 13th had the villain been a group of murderous woodland creatures, whose violence is the result of a toxic chemical spill into their habitat. Originating as more of a joke than anything else, the film – which is to date the first and only film directed by Jordan Rubin, who created in collaboration with a few of his friends – the film is exactly what you would expect, offering us the precise qualities that we would expect from such a narrative, never going too far in its pursuit of some deeper meaning, but nonetheless being wickedly entertaining and the exact category of over-the-top horror comedy that we often find is becoming increasingly rare as a result of the genre becoming too focused on virality rather than being organically enjoyable, something that Rubin and his cohorts worked to dispel throughout this offbeat and outrageously funny work.

There is certainly not much going on beneath the surface of Zombeavers – it’s one of those rare films where you don’t even need to read a single sentence of the synopsis to know what it’s about, since the title alone is more than enough to make it clear what this film is aiming to do. If anything, the entire reason for this film’s existence is directly related to what we’ve seen with films like Sharknado and Snakes on a Plane, which begin their lives as titles, everything else in between being merely supplementary. Yet, Rubin is still adamant on creating some kind of a narrative, and therefore we find him creating what is essentially a very traditional horror film in terms of its structure – a group of oddly lascivious teenagers set out for a remote cabin in the wood, where they hope to spend some time engaged in the kind of mischievous debauchery that we normally associate with young people left to their own devices. This quickly derails once they find themselves the victims of a murderous rampage by the titular creatures, who have no hesitation in attacking anyone they see as a prospective victim, turning them into “zombeavers” gradually, killing them off one by one, until only a couple of people remain. It’s hopelessly simple and perhaps even derivative to the point of exhaustion, but it’s extremely entertaining, which is all that anyone involved in this film was setting out to achieve. Rubin is inspired by decades of slasher horror and zombie films, and he certainly seems to subscribe to the idea that the latter only works when it is tinged with comedy (once George A. Romero essentially perfected the genre with the dramatic Night of the Living Dead, no one else has been able to capture the same brilliance without infusing it with humour), creating an effortlessly funny attempt to explore both the natural and supernatural worlds, which here seem to exist as two sides of the same thematic coin.

Make no mistake – Zombeavers is a very bad film, but in a way that is nothing if not entirely purposeful. The film was written in collaboration with Jon and Al Kaplan, who are marginally well-known for their comedic stage musicals, such as Silence: The Musical, a fascinating attempt to take The Silence of the Lambs and turn it into an all-singing-all-dancing revue, the results being divisive but nonetheless intriguing. Considering the director’s fascination with the genre, and the intriguing body of work by his co-writers, it was clear that this film was formed by people with a vested interest in doing something radical and different, even if it was not always as effective in practice as we may hope. This is not a film that intends to hide the seams – it wants to be viewed as a gaudy, over-the-top trash spectacle, with stilted dialogue, janky editing and very poor performances (Rachel Melvin, Cortney Palm and Hutch Dano deserve credit for being able to play into both the thinly-veiled archetypes and find a lot of nuance in characters that are nothing more than broad caricatures of common horror tropes) and some of the most atrocious special effects – all of which seem to be done practically – being features of the film, rather than shortcomings. It does take a lot of patience to sit through what is essentially nothing more than an extended comedic sketch, but the film does hold our attention through taking a very bold approach to the narrative, insofar as it acknowledges that it is deeply flawed, and leans into those shortcomings as a comedic device. The foundation on which Zombeavers is built may seem quite derivative, but its certainly still very funny, even if the novelty does wear off within a few minutes – there’s just something so offbeat about the film that makes us entirely entertained and enthralled, even when it can be considered an acquired taste at the best of times.

Zombeavers may be a film where it is clear that everyone involved is in on the joke, which does diminish some of the impact, since the reason B-movies are so revered by such a distinct portion of the global population is essentially the result of filmmakers who wholeheartedly believe that their work is worthy of standing in the pantheons of their cinematic heroes. Rubin is far too self-aware to garner comparisons to the likes of Tommy Wiseau and Neil Breen, whose earnestness is the reason for their cult following. Yet, it’s also difficult to deny that this film is a lot of fun, and while it may never quite hit all the notes that we would expect, it is nonetheless a very good time. It is inane and outrageous, and never offers us anything we don’t see in the run-of-the-mill horror comedies that are produced every year – entire television networks have been started to serve as platforms for this kind of low-budget, rapidly-produced style of filmmaking, meaning that the novelty is certainly not as strong as it was before – but purely on its ability to entertain without taking itself too seriously, we can find a lot of value in Zombeavers, a film far better than we would anticipate based on a cursory glance, and one that is certainly worth the time of anyone with a penchant for the peculiar and absurd.