Back in the '60s it was George Romero's brilliant Night of the Living Dead that kick-started America's love affair with zombies... the mindless flesh-eater obsession then made its way across the ocean to Italy where scores of cheap and disturbing films were churned out with drooling enthusiasm. Now Britain has wrestled the crown away and has become the undisputed king of zombie flicks with such terrifying entries as 28 Days Later, and its sequel, 28 Weeks Later.

One could also argue that nobody does comedy better then the British. They are masters of pitch black humor that frequently borders on the downright nasty. In comparison, the written dialogue in a typical Brit-Com is far sharper and wittier than any Seth Rogan/Ben Stiller/Jim Carrey film combined. Apparently, in America, acting like a retard is what passes for humor.

Horror-Comedy as a sub-genre is a difficult thing to pull off as evidenced by such toothless offerings as Scary Movie, Ghostbusters (highly overrated as a horror movie as well as a comedy, IMHO) and the 'Nightmare on Elm Street' movies (Freddy Krueger's one-liners would make even Henny Youngman groan). Here again, the Brits have shown us how it should be done with the brilliant Shaun of the Dead, and now, with Doghouse, their latest shaming from across the pond.

A synopsis of the plot is pretty much useless for a film like this. You are not there for story, but for the yuks and the yucks, and believe me, there are plenty of both. There is a twist, however, and it is that our less-than-intrepid male screwup heroes must face a town populated solely by female flesh-eaters (only women are affected by the zombie virus, or "bird flu", as one of the characters calls it). This battle of the sexes gives the film its unique flavor and sets it up for gender jokes galore. The female zombies (or "Zom-Birds" as they are referred to in the film) are colorfully realized and are definitely of the comic book variety with such undead incarnations as a zombie bride, a zombie hairdresser, a zombie grannie, and quite possibly the most terrifying creation of all, "Bubbles" the 300 lb love-starved finger-licking zombie housewife.

Danny Dyer, Stephen Graham and Noel Clarke lead the charge with a fine mix of terror-induced bravado and cocky ignorance. The lads are laughably daft, but not unbelievably so. There is a nice mix of characters and each has his own moment, however, Neil Maskell's character of Banksy shows up far too late and sadly has little to do. I would have liked to seen more of the slow-witted lout as he provided a nice counterpoint to all the manic frenziness.

Director Jake West (Razor Blade Smile, Evil Aliens) wisely shuns CGI for latex rubber and karo syrup and the result is a welcome return to old-school filmmaking. Make no mistake about it, this is gut-busting lowbrow humor, but it is rather well done at that. The plot is serviceable and although somewhere along the way there is some explanation for the virus, that subplot is quickly abandoned as none of that really matters. All we care about is getting our heroes the hell out of there. Pronto. If there is to be any complaint about the film, it is that the ending is rather abrupt and could have stood another five minutes to wrap everything up. But we're just picking nits here.

Any guy who has ever bad dating experience will like this film for its "Girlfriends from Hell" factor, while gals will probably relish the terrorizing of the male chauvinist leads. A bit of something for everyone. However, when all is said and done, another Shaun of the Dead this is not... but it is not far off from the mark. In any case, however way you slice it, it is still head and shoulders above anything being produced domestically. Not brilliant, but definitely an enjoyable little guilty pleasure that delivers on its promise of giggles and gore...