Remember Venn diagrams? Sure you do, it’s where you partially overlap two circles, each representing a separate category, and you have this middle area of overlap that satisfies the requirements of both circles. Right, a Venn diagram. But let’s say you add a third category, overlapping a third circle. Well, then your area of central overlap shrinks. So let’s say you keep adding more and more circles and soon you’re 
relegated to a tiny dot of overlap in the middle—a little zone of existence that is so much of everything, it’s barely anything at all. Yeah I guess that’s not exactly how Venn diagrams work, but you get what I’m saying.
Well, that’s what happens in Overlord. See? Don’t worry, you’re still reading the right article, although that may not have been the opening you expected in a review of a zombie Nazi movie set in WWII, amirite?
Let me explain. Overlord starts on the eve of D-Day in a U.S. plane on its way to a drop behind enemy lines in France. Our heroes are a just-assembled ragtag group of young Air Force paratroopers—ranging from seasoned combat vets transferred over from Italy, to new guys fresh outta boot camp, to a fumbling photographer. In an impressively action-packed opening scene that places us in the midst of the harrowing operation with jarring realism, the men launch out of the plane and make their way into a small French village.
Our protagonists quietly stay hidden while befriending a lovely young Frenchwoman and her little brother. They soon learn that the Germans controlling the town are carting villagers off to “the church,” and when they return, they aren’t quite themselves. Our heroes become torn between helping the village and executing the mission—“take down ‘that tower’ so our ground troops landing on French beaches can . . .” something? Something to do with the tower? I don’t know, that’s about where the film reaches the edge of its “military tactics” Venn diagram overlap zone.
Is Overlord a horror film? Well, there are some jump scares and creepy moments, and there are zombies . . . sorta (truthfully, I wish there were a lot more). Is it an action flick? Kinda, it has guns, combat, and some pretty solid edge-of-your seat moments. Is it a war movie? Sure—the mad scientist zombie angle sort of messes a bit with the believable, grounded, reality of it all, but yeah, it kind of is. It’s also a little bit of a romance, a wild-and-crazy sci-fi flick (we 
are in J.J. Abrams’s territory here, after all), and a comedy, and I could even see someone arguing that the film makes a few larger philosophical statements about humanity itself.
But Overlord is so much of everything that you almost find yourself wondering whether you’re seeing anything at all. You’re squinting to find that tiny dot of overlap in the very center of the Venn diagram. It’s almost like this film is a high school varsity athlete who was born in Mexico, speaks Chinese, and gets solid grades while making time to launch a tech startup between traveling to Africa on the weekends to save endangered wildlife—but still can’t get into Harvard because in the middle of all of that, she is, ironically, indistinct.
I said almost. Why? I simply can’t deny that Overlord is a blast to see in the theater. This film is slaying with a RT 
score of 84% for a reason: when pressed with an ancient Roman gladiatorial thumbs up or down, I almost begrudgingly have to go with up. The pacing is good, the action draws you in, the effects are fun and in-your-face but just shy of over-the-top, the humor hits at the right moments, and there are plenty of squeamish scenes that leave you chuckling while shaking your head. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, and while the plot is pretty predictable, there’s a good amount of fun to be had in trying to figure out exactly what type of zombie we are dealing with here. In the end, it’s a pretty fun night at the movies.
SpecialK Verdict: Overlord may not be Oscar-worthy, nor can it hold a candle to the rest of this fall’s horrific releases, but it sure does make for one wild ride of a film.
Overlord opens Friday, November 9.
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