Apocalypse Tomorrow, Regret Immediately
If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a grimy Italian exploitation director watched The Deer Hunter and thought, “You know what this needs? Tongue-biting and sewer chases,” then congratulations—you’ve imagined Cannibal Apocalypse. Antonio Margheriti (hiding under the pseudonym “Anthony M. Dawson,” as though he knew he was about to commit cinematic war crimes) somehow fuses the Vietnam War drama with an infection-cannibal gore fest. The result is like eating a plate of spaghetti someone dropped in a biohazard bin.
John Saxon’s Worst Day Ever
Poor John Saxon plays Norman Hopper, a Vietnam vet haunted by a flashback where fellow soldier Charlie Bukowski—no, not that Bukowski—takes a chunk out of his arm like it’s happy hour at Applebee’s. Fast-forward to suburbia, where Hopper’s biggest threat should be mowing the lawn, but instead it’s a teenage neighbor who tries to seduce him… and gets bitten. She likes it. At that point, you know you’re not in for The Best Years of Our Lives—you’re in for The Lunch Years of Our Lives.
The Plot Wanders Like an Infected Drunk
From there, the movie lurches between hospital escapes, biker gang confrontations, sewer shootouts, and side characters who exist solely to be bitten, chopped, or flambéed. The script tries to connect this to “the trauma of war,” but mostly it’s just war flashbacks shoved between gore money shots, like someone edited Platoon while playing Resident Evil. The virus here isn’t so much about contagion—it’s about making sure every actor gets their turn to chew on someone’s shoulder.
Science, According to Dr. Mendez
We do get a laughably pseudo-scientific explanation: cannibalism is apparently caused by “psychic alteration” from the virus. This makes about as much sense as saying salmonella comes from bad vibes. Dr. Mendez also spends half the movie trying to seduce Hopper’s wife and the other half running around like a man who’s just realized he left the stove on during the apocalypse.
Biker Gang Cameo: Because Why Not?
Somewhere in the third act, a biker gang storms in—seemingly just to pad the runtime with leather jackets and yelling—before promptly being chased away by the infected like a low-rent zombie film. If the filmmakers were going for a gritty, urban cannibal thriller, this scene is the equivalent of throwing an inflatable clown into The Godfather wedding sequence.
The Ending – And Everyone’s on the Menu
By the time we crawl to the finale, we’ve got flamethrowers in sewers, cops who apparently shoot on sight, and infected children who casually stash their aunt’s severed hand in the fridge. John Saxon—wounded, dying, and probably wondering how his career came to this—ends up in his dress uniform, like the world’s saddest Fourth of July parade, just in time for a last-minute bite-and-shoot melodrama. The cops arrive moments too late, but honestly, we’ve all checked out by then.
Final Word: Apocalypse Now? More Like Appetite Later.
Cannibal Apocalypse is sleazy, undercooked, and feels like a buffet where nothing is labeled and everything is past its expiration date. It wants to be shocking, but the only real shock is how bored you can get watching people gnaw on each other for 96 minutes. By the end, you’ll be rooting for the virus—at least it had some enthusiasm.
