Fido (Andrew Currie, 2006)

You know you're not in Kansas any more when you find yourself describing a zombie comedy as perfectly pleasant. But zombie films have pretty much done the whole cycle by now: what started as horrific in Romero's Night of the Living Dead had already become darkly satirical by his follow-up, Dawn of the Dead, until Shaun of the Dead completed the journey into graveyard slapstick. Parallel to this development, the idea of wholesome American suburbia of the '50s teeming with repression and sexual undercurrents has become familiar currency and has proved a rich vein for comedy, such as in the recent Pleasantville.

Fido basically marries the two, and makes the most of the idea of domesticated zombies (read: the non-WASP underclass) amongst the manicured lawns and white fences. Sadly, there's only enough mileage in this for one of those jauntier episodes of The Twilight Zone. Still, it potters along affably, occasionally raising a grin if never a guffaw, and leaving plenty of time to ponder what on earth Billy Connolly is doing shuffling away under all that make-up as the titular faithful homehelp zombie. But it could really have done with the rasping edge of Parents or the more winged fantasies of Tim Burton or Terry Gilliam.

5/10