Lisa Norton, Jeanie Calleja, Craig Lauzon, Eric Woolfe & Kimwun Perehinec in Zombocalypse! | Photo by Aidan Ware
Aside from being a weird little genius churning out dependable, ghoulishly seriocomic kitsch, Eric Woolfe has a knack, specifically, for showing me a great time by co-opting properties I low-key loathe. His campy Muppet-ification is consistently disarming. H.P. Lovecraft? Not a fan. But the outrageously quirkified cosmic horrors of Woolfe’s oeuvre? Sign me up. Zombocalypse!, the latest Eldrtich Theatre offering, is a persuasive fusion of George Romero (whom I do wholehearted love) and John Hughes.
Though I found it decently compelling in my adolescence, 2026 middle-aged me finds Hughes’ teen flicks irksome. Woolfe has modelled this on The Breakfast Club, a film I find mostly cringe-inducing now—the yass-ifcation of Ally Sheedy’s goth “basketcase” is especially irritating—but he’s wisely discarded the uncomfortably out-of-date value judgements while retaining the cornball emotionality. The subtle poignancy of Romero’s classic Living Dead films is also honoured, along with the gore, which has been given that distinctly Eldritch™ felt and foam treatment.
He knows what we’ve shown up for and, as always, delivers in flamboyantly risqué and gruesome spades.
The premise here is that some disparate teens at a small town high school are trapped together—not by detention, but a zombie apocalypse! Like The Breakfast Club, each of these characters is a clichéd type, and they will all get the opportunity to reveal the human complexity underneath their stereotype. While there is a direct one-to-one correspondence, Woolfe has shaken things up a bit so it isn’t too flat and derivative.
Echoing Judd Nelson, Craig Lauzon is the misunderstood bad boy—but instead of the tough-guy persona, he’s sporting a punk look with pierced jacket and green mohawk, whose morose vibes obscure deep feelings. Jeanie Calleja, modelled on Molly Ringwald’s rich-girl “princess,” is a peppy cheerleader here, who must work through some telltale guilt associated with her now living dead squad. Lisa Norton is a gender-swapped version of Anthony Michael Hall’s “nerd” with a gloriously homely pastel sweater and considerably more unhinged personality. Kimwun Perehinec is a fusion of Nelson’s “criminal,” Sheedy’s “basketcase” and, to add even more 80s genre nostalgia, some sexy-tough Adrienne Barbeau bad-assery. Woolfe himself plays a preppy version of Emilio Estevez’s “jock,” a homophobe-closet case with a pink Lacoste golf shirt and a discomfiting loose pants/belt situation. (You have to see it to understand.)
The whole ensemble has contagious charisma, each of them doing double or even triple duty as supporting puppet and masked human players. Another carry over from the Hughes classic, Norton plays a cynical vice-principal and Calleja the janitor character, hovering in between the idealism of youth and a jaded authority figure. The finale is an effective homage to the bleak ending of Romero’s original Night of the Living Dead. Woolfe also pops up as his typically deranged expert character, this time in the form of a German scientist with his pet zombie. Some of his skillful, close-up magic is worked in here too.
Ric Waugh’s direction retains those familiar Eldtrich vibes and manages to keep all five actors on the tiny-ass stage without it feeling cramped. It has considerable dynamic breathing room, in fact. The slow-mo spork attacks are a hoot. Melanie McNeill’s scenic design is more restrained than usual, providing a cartoonish school backdrop that doesn’t draw attention to itself, allowing Woolfe’s hilariously grotesque puppet designs to pop with bulbous, bloodshot intensity. The featured scrim-window allows for some great jump-scares and Aidan Ware’s lighting makes some vivid, colourful use of LED tubes. Especially convincing is their recreation of the dull, depressingly greenish hue of institutional florescent lights.
Honestly, the pre-show atmosphere is astonishingly eerie in its evocative drabness.
Some iconic dialogue and set pieces from The Breakfast Club figure into the scenario as clever member berries. It’s all very over-the-top, though Woolfe, as always, manages to incorporate some moments of genuine sweetness. Not what I would consider one of the strongest, but solid and compelling. Oh, yes, the Pop Goes the World sequence is truly transcendent!
Zombocalypse!
April 29 to May 10, 2026
Red Sandcastle Theatre
(922 Queen Street East)
90 minutes (no intermission)
Kimwun Perehenic & Lisa Norton in Zombocalypse! | Photo by Aidan Ware