Apocalypse Now… in Slow Motion
Zombie movies are supposed to be fun. Gore, chaos, a few one-liners, and maybe a desperate commentary about society falling apart. But Day Zero, directed by Joey De Guzman, takes all those expectations, stuffs them into a blender, and somehow produces an apocalyptic smoothie with no flavor, no bite, and absolutely no reason to exist.
It’s a film about survival, redemption, and the human spirit… allegedly. In reality, it’s about watching UFC fighter Brandon Vera scowl, grunt, and punch his way through what feels like a student film sponsored by the Philippine branch of Home Depot.
This isn’t Train to Busan. It’s Train to Pasig, except the train’s derailed, the zombies are bored, and everyone involved looks like they wish they’d stayed home.
The Story: Jailhouse Rock (and Rot)
Our hero, Emon (Brandon Vera), is a former U.S. special forces soldier who’s been doing time for “serious assault.” Which is a polite way of saying he has anger management issues so bad even the undead might need therapy afterward.
When the movie begins, Emon’s about to be paroled. He’s a model prisoner, the kind of guy who’s learned from his mistakes—or so the warden thinks, right before everything goes to hell. A brawl breaks out because Emon dares to defend his timid buddy Timoy (Pepe Herrera, giving the only human performance in this film). The fight cancels his parole, but then the zombie apocalypse hits.
Convenient timing, really.
A mutated dengue virus turns the population into ravenous flesh-eaters, proving once and for all that public health in the Philippines has bigger problems than mosquitoes. The prison descends into chaos, and the warden—clearly suffering from a sudden bout of stupidity or divine mercy—opens the gates so everyone can escape. Moments later, he becomes a zombie, probably because even God didn’t want to watch this anymore.
The Hero: Brandon “Punch Everything” Vera
Brandon Vera’s Emon is built like a tank but has the emotional range of one too. He’s supposed to be a tragic antihero—a violent man trying to redeem himself by protecting his family. Instead, he spends most of the film glowering like he’s stuck in traffic.
To be fair, Vera isn’t an actor. He’s a fighter, and that’s exactly how he plays the role: like every scene is another sparring round he didn’t agree to. His solution to every problem—emotional, moral, or zombie-related—is to punch it really hard.
His wife, Sheryl (Mary Jean Lastimosa), calls him out for his violent tendencies. His response? More violence. If you gave this guy a therapy session, he’d probably suplex the couch.
The Zombies: Slow, Dumb, and Unionized
Now let’s talk about the zombies—or whatever these extras covered in ketchup are supposed to be. The film claims they’re “mutated dengue victims,” but they behave like understudies for The Walking Dead who didn’t get the choreography memo.
Sometimes they sprint like Olympic athletes, other times they shuffle like hungover interns. They bite when convenient, vanish when not, and occasionally just stand around waiting for the camera to cut away.
They don’t even look scary. More like street performers from a cheap Halloween attraction. At one point, a zombie literally bumps into a wall mid-attack. You can almost hear the director whisper, “Just keep rolling.”
The Family Drama: Love, Guns, and Dead Air
Day Zero desperately wants to be a movie about family. Emon’s wife Sheryl and their deaf daughter Jane are supposed to represent innocence, love, and all that mushy stuff that gets you killed in zombie films.
Instead, they’re barely written characters. Sheryl spends most of her screen time crying and yelling “Emon!” like she’s auditioning for a telenovela about poor life choices. Jane, the deaf daughter, could have been a fascinating, emotional anchor—her silence contrasting with the chaos—but the film uses her condition mostly as a plot gimmick for cheap tension.
When zombies break through the walls, Emon has to “find himself” again by saving them. Translation: he kills everything that moves, often in slow motion, because apparently violence = redemption. By the end, his “journey” is less about fatherhood and more about proving that every problem can be solved by throwing someone out a window.
The Supporting Cast: Disposable Humanity
Pepe Herrera as Timoy is the film’s only bright spot. He’s timid, funny, and actually seems aware he’s in a zombie apocalypse. He’s also clearly doomed from the moment he appears, because in this kind of movie, the one likable guy never makes it.
Then there’s Police Chief Oscar (Joey Marquez), who starts as an ally and ends as a lunatic shooting at children. Because why have a coherent character arc when you can just go, “He’s crazy now”?
Every other side character exists to either (a) scream, (b) get eaten, or (c) betray someone for no reason. It’s like The Walking Dead filtered through a soap opera and edited by a blender.
The Action: A Bootleg Zombie Gym Workout
You’d think a film starring a professional fighter would have great action. Nope. Most of the fights look like they were choreographed by someone whose only reference was Call of Duty and a dream.
The camera shakes like it’s mounted on a drunk pigeon. The editing is frantic, not because the scene is intense, but because they’re hiding that nobody knows what they’re doing. Every punch lands with the same sound effect—a stock “thwack” so overused you start hearing it in your sleep.
Gunfire is equally nonsensical. At one point, Emon picks up an assault rifle and shoots zombies for what feels like ten minutes without reloading once. Somewhere, a physics teacher quietly dies inside.
And don’t even get me started on the CGI blood—it looks like someone spilled spaghetti sauce on the lens.
The Social Commentary: Violence Is Bad (Unless You’re the Hero)
The film thinks it’s saying something about toxic masculinity and redemption. The problem is, it can’t decide if it condemns Emon’s violence or worships it.
His wife scolds him for being a brute, but the movie rewards him every time he punches, shoots, or stabs something. It’s like The Last of Us without the emotional depth or the writing talent—just a guy learning that love means never having to reload.
By the end, the message seems to be: “Violence is destructive… unless you do it for family. Then it’s character development.”
The Cinematography: Fifty Shades of Brown
Visually, Day Zero is… fine. Everything’s brown. The lighting’s brown. The zombies are brown. The blood is brown. It’s like the whole movie was color-graded through a dirty coffee filter.
The apocalypse is supposed to feel claustrophobic, but here it just feels cheap. You can practically see the boundaries of the set. Every building looks like the same abandoned warehouse recycled at a slightly different camera angle.
The Ending: The Zero Hour
After endless shooting, running, and yelling, the film limps toward a finale where Emon must save his family and fight his way out of an apartment complex swarming with zombies.
There’s no tension, no twist—just more punching. By the time the credits roll, you don’t care who lives or dies. You just want it to stop.
Emon “reclaims” his role as a father, but honestly, if this is his version of parenting, Jane might be better off in the zombie daycare down the street.
Final Verdict: Dead on Arrival
Day Zero wants to be World War Z with heart, but it ends up being Resident Evil: Direct-to-Cable Edition. It’s loud, dull, and thematically confused—a zombie movie that kills time more effectively than it kills zombies.
Brandon Vera might be able to punch through walls, but he can’t punch through bad writing. The result is a film so lifeless it makes its undead extras look lively by comparison.
Rating: 3 out of 10.
A zombie flick without bite, brains, or basic logic. If the apocalypse looked like this, I’d walk straight into the nearest infected mob just to speed things up.
