Made for £45, my arse! This film's laundry bill alone would have amounted to more than that (fake blood doesn't come out of clothes by itself, you know), let alone all the other costs that are unavoidably incurred during the film-making process, no matter how cheap the production: catering, administration, travel, make-up supplies etc.
Sadly, Colin's clever '£45' marketing ploy turns out to be the most effective thing about the whole film. Despite a valiant attempt to try something different with the whole living-dead schtick, and for seriously less dosh than most low-budget horrors, most of the time the film proves to be a less than scintillating experience, the basic idea being far more suitable to a 10 minute short than a 97 minute feature.
Watching recently turned corpse Colin (Alastair Kirton) slowly dragging his feet around South London for an hour and a half, pausing to contemplate road signs or traffic lights on the way, is pretty dreary stuff. Director Marc Price occasionally picks up the pace, such as when Colin stumbles upon a house siege or a group of survivors take action against the undead (resulting in a unsettling scene where those wounded during the battle are cruelly dispatched before they can become zombies), but for the majority of the time, this is dead boring.
