As an avid lover of all things drag-related, the very concept of a zombified drag queen queer horror set off multiple alarms for me. To call Queens of the Dead very much my cup of tea would be selling it a bit short—that’s before even taking into account that RuPaul’s Drag Race breakout Nina West stars in a major supporting role, or the mere presence of Dominique Jackson (Ryan Murphy’s groundbreaking Pose) in her element as a sassy drunk bitch. Of course, one’s mileage may vary depending on any given viewer’s familiarity with queer culture. Co-written and directed by daughter to the “King of the Zombies” George A. Romero, Tina Romero plays in her own bedazzled sandbox of queer horror, no doubt in loving tribute to her late father. Entertaining as hell and campy in all the right ways, Queens of the Dead rips the flesh from the zombie subgenre to reveal its flashy sequins beneath.
It’s the end of the world as we know it! Or, at the very least, it’s a drag-pocalypse. On the eve of a crazy Brooklyn bunny-themed warehouse party at Yum, practically everything that can go wrong does. Vapid headliner Yasmine (Jackson) drops out at the last minute to participate in a sponsored meet and greet instead; the booked event seems to have thinned out significantly due to abrupt cancellations; the bathrooms are on the fritz, calling for swift action from plumber Barry (Quincy Dunn-Bake); bus boy Nico (Tomas Matos) gets shuffled around to be a Bushwick baby queen performer, whilst drag host Ginsey (Andrew “Nina West” Levitt) suddenly graduates to both host and the new headliner; and finally, notoriously stage shy performer, Sam (Jaquel Spivey), seemingly comes out of retirement to save the event from pure disaster. Unfortunately, not even party organizer Dre (Katy O’Brian) can account for uninvited guests crashing the party. In this case, a flesh-eating zombie in high heels somehow finds their way onto Yum’s dance floor.
From the cold open kill, Romero knows exactly what type of movie the gays want to see. She wastes no time embracing taboos, as a hookup for sex from ChoirDaddy69 at a church already lampoons religious culture. Before the zombies at large shamble their way into the zany plot, Nina West dressed as the Virgin Mary lip syncs an elaborate performance set to Kesha’s “Blow.” Dre realizes she needs Sam to come save their event from becoming yesterday’s news, prompting him to scoot away from his hospital gig and over to Yum for a drag debut. Of course, the arrival of zombies changes everything. Sam, unable to take the stage, nonetheless seems set up as the main player amongst the ensemble. A running gag with Barry constantly misgendering people never wears out its welcome, nor do the constant bursts of physical comedy and occasional gory violence. A subplot involving two tertiary characters separated from the group for the majority of the runtime doesn’t quite work.
As far as the zombies are concerned, they rock metallic makeup, glam accents, and glittery gore. Romero wisely never tries to make them look realistic—though they are played for jokes 90% of the time, the film establishes true stakes for its myriad characters. At times, it almost channels From Dusk Till Dawn, with the remaining ensemble teaming up to face off against a horde of the undead. The arrival of Pops (Margaret Cho) as the fiancé of intern Kelsey (Jack Haven) signals a serious shift in the narrative. Romeo and co-writer Erin Judge introduce a ticking clock element to the plot: if they make it to Queens by dawn, the group can catch a boat to leave their troubles far behind. Little effort is made to explain the specifics of the outbreak, and the approach to those being bitten seems among the few that just shrug off the presence of a bite at all. The infection spreads through bites, or maybe party drugs, which honestly checks out for Brooklyn. Queens of the Dead pretty much takes this element of the plot as seriously as the rest of the storyline; notably, not seriously at all.
Despite a couple moments feeling like wasted opportunities, Queens of the Dead makes the most of its ridiculous premise on an indie budget. Where else will you see zombie rats, the truest definition of a “death drop,” a zombie in a go-go dancer cage, or an almost entirely queer cast fending off brain-hungry undead? MVPs are definitely Dominique Jackson, holding a wine glass or a bottle of liquor in most of her scenes, Nina West giving her best acting challenge fantasy, and Jaquel Spivey, who has the clearest arc of any character. Even when it isn’t perfect, Romero’s film still feels singularly special, a specific taste of horror that has potential to become a beloved cult classic.
Queens of the Dead premiered at 2025’s Tribeca International Film Festival.
