Shock Waves (Ken Wiederhorn, 1977)

A fantastic premise–one fitting for a debut feature–dealing with an underwater unit of Nazi zombies is ballasted by inventive imagery (the aquatic SS are très punk-Replicant who don’t so much emerge from oceans and rivers and swimming pools as rise from them, like messianic Aryan bubbles of gas), claustrophobically isolating editing that sometimes makes it seem as if every actor delivered their lines in an empty room to an off-screen script supervisor, a flattering use of Florida flora, and a curious fascination with the post-violence stillness that spreads on the surface of previously-roiling water. This premise is keel-hauled by the fact that more chewing of scenery is done by Peter Cushing (great scar, terrible accent) and John Carradine (great beard, terrible dialogue) than chewing of people is done by the aforementioned zombies, whose menace is largely limited to the breaking of props.

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