story time, get ready to scroll past me rambling about how and why I, a grown woman who had no business liking disney's zombies franchise, began liking it anyway
I am writing this because I’m tired and I don’t want to fold laundry, and I want to ramble and still be writing, so. Welcome to the ramble. Also writing this because followers of mine might be bored, or confused as to why I like something like Zombies when my other tastes are…not usually on that level.
First of all, I feel it is important that you know I am older than both the leads. I am years older than Milo Manheim and Meg Donnelly. (Not many years, but—still. Years.) I am married and I should have a tee shirt that says “I Survived the Initial Mania That Followed the Release of Disney’s High School Musical (2006)”.
I was a child when the first HSM came out, but old enough to say to myself “I am too old and too cool to like this” and then I, like the majority of my generation, AKA the target audience, liked it anyway in secret until we stopped being too cool and started maturing and realized High School Musical was good and fun and deserved the hype.
For anyone reading this who is the target audience of Zombies, i.e. much younger than I am (or even Freya Skye’s age, what a star) you might not know that HSM technically started this whole thing where brightly-colored, good-looking teenagers and/or young adults sing and dance in a Disney Channel Original Movie that is usually about romance or set in a high school, with some kind of special sauce attached (they’re at a summer camp about music. they’re time traveling at the beach. they’re supposedly the offspring of classic Disney characters. oh look half of us are Halloween monsters now—) and then said movie gets several sequels and sells lots of dolls and stuff.
HSM happened, and then Camp Rock happened (still good, but weak sauce compared to HSM in our eyes) and then Teen Beach Movie (a flop) and then Descendants (marketable in theory, extra strange in execution). And then all of those got tons of sequels, and maybe some other spinoffs, and I got around to seeing each franchise around the time they came out and they were fine.
Listen to me, children. There’s a level of cringe and earnestness that, when mixed together, is comforting. And fun. And contagious. Who among us does not want purple hair. Who among us does not want to be friends with the Jonas Brothers at a summer camp. Who among us does not want to be in the tree with Chad and Troy, it’s called crime and punishment, Bolton—
Now, cringe or not, quality or not, all of these franchises host incredibly talented people. Super duper crazy talented. They can sing, they can dance, they can sometimes act and sing and dance, they look good in any lighting, and they seem to get along like cookies and milk together. Most of the time, these silly DCOMs end up rocketing these young people into a full-fledged career, whether you’re Zac Efron in big blockbuster hits or Vanessa Hudgens in Netflix wannabe Hallmark Christmas movies (I love you, Knight Before Christmas). And if you’re too cool for them at the age you are now, give it a couple years, because the talent of the cast will not be the only reason you’ll suddenly look back on these movies with fondness.
So, it’s the second year of my marriage (this year, 2025, makes year five, yay), and my husband (tall, lanky, goofy, beautiful eyes, never too cool for anything) sits down on the couch after dinner and scrolls through Disney+.
He stops after about ten minutes, waits for me to look at him in the silence, and whispers “I have to know”. Pats the couch beside him. I look at the screen—he’s about to hit play on Disney’s Zombies, which had, at the time, been out for about four years.
I was disgusted just looking at it. I said no. I said there was no way it would be good. I said it looked like it had the budget of Power Rangers. I said the leads looked like babies compared to Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens, or, for that matter, Joe Jonas and Demi Lovato.
I was right. I was also wrong.
Now, if you knew my fella, you would know he has a fantastic sense of humor, and that watching this movie, at our age and at that time in our lives, was a joke. He was making a joke by suggesting it. He was going with the bit when he pressed play and we continued to watch. But then we actually finished it. He never suggested turning it off, and I never said “I can’t watch this, I’m dying, release me.”
We sat down and watched it, and we mocked it mercilessly. But as we were mocking it, we were enjoying it. We had so much fun mocking it, and so much fun watching it together. We thought Zed was unironically great. We hated the rapping. We thought Addison’s white hair (known as the Party City Wig in our house) was atrocious. Our favorite character was the football coach. We rewound it sometimes to really sink our teeth into the moments that were most embarrassing. We genuinely thought the light-garden Someday ballad scene was pretty and sweet.
So much laughter. Spontaneous dancing in the living room. Pausing the movie to point out weird expressions or comment on badly-written lines of dialogue. Pausing it again to attempt to perfect Bucky’s weird narcissistic jazz hands. We finished the first movie that night and agreed that we had had such a wonderful time, we had to watch the second movie the next night. I thought my fella agreeing to that was a joke, too. It was not. He came home the next day and immediately turned it on. Before dinner was even discussed. Before dinner was even discussed do you hear me—
We watched the second film, mocked it, loved it, and moved on to the third about two weeks later—literally because we wanted to make this newfound love last longer. My husband and I were tentatively feeling real affection for these little DCOMs, and Zombies 3 had just come out and was being promoted everywhere online.
Now, by the third installment, we actually cared about the characters and story. We understood this movie to be the last one Disney was planning on making for this franchise. By this point, we both genuinely liked it, but we hadn’t said so, and I thought I had to curb my enthusiasm, because Zombies seemed so far from what my fella’s usual tastes ran toward. I like what I like. I just don’t get embarrassed about my interests. Other things, yes, but what I enjoy? I have liked Alvin and the Chipmunks for way past its expiration date. Don’t ever talk to me or my six anthropomorphic rodents ever again, listen to me when I tell you I and my interests are embarrassment proof—
I need not have worried. Ain’t No Doubt About It played for the first time in our living room and I am sitting there vibrating with serotonin, barely able to contain my delight, and my husband pauses the movie and looks at me with an expression of mock-horror and says, “I think I love these guys.”
Yes, husband. We both do. We both love these guys. We both love these movies. Who are we, what year is this, humuhumunukunukuapua’a—
We watch ZOMBIES 1, 2, and 3 every year. Every summer. Later, I showed my twin sister the films, and they are so far below the standard she usually holds movies to, and she watched with us. She watched all three. We made her. And she walked away loving it too.
There is something so endearing about Zombies. The messages are simple and wholesome. Bright colors, my beloved, how nice to see you so prominently featured, practically a character all your own. Zed Necrodopolis (yes that’s his last name, he’s the titular zombie, he grows on you like a fungus, just let it happen) might be the most winsome, beguiling lead in any of these Disney Channel Original Movies, get off that podium, Troy, make room for the green hair—
Addison is not exhaustingly strong and independent, Addison is sweet, and full of joy, and full of compassion, and she literally cannot do anything without a little bit of help from her friends, and you know what, thank goodness. Because that is so much more relatable, so much easier, so much better for little girls to see than what they’re slowly being fed now. Sometimes you need your friends! Sometimes you need your undead charismatic boyfriend! You can’t always do everything yourself! You should be kinder, you should look for the best in others, you should probably pick up a zombie dictionary before attempting to speak the language in the middle of the cafeteria when the hot goofball is patiently watching you butcher his native language!
The way the films tackle the themes they’re trying to push is so refreshing. Addison’s behavior especially is a fantastic example to viewers. There is a way to speak up when you see people being treated the wrong way, and you don’t have to be biting or demeaning to point it out (coughcoughElizacoughcough). Plus she can rock a $2.50 Party City Wig of white hair with the best of them, bedhead ruffling included at an additional $1.25.
Her thing is cheer, and she uses it to bring people together and encourage others. How great is that as a concept? Zoom out. Zoom away from the cringe and see it. It’s great.
Don’t get me started on Zed. He’s the main character, not Addison. Zed is a treasure. Zed is endlessly optimistic, endlessly likeable, perfectly portrayed. Milo Manheim’s back will be forever crooked from happily carrying the weight of the entire franchise up the mountain of relevance. He will plant that green flag up there and wink and you will applaud. Meg is equally talented and equally delightful, but there’s just something about that zombie guy, amiright? Maybe it’s because I married a tall goose with thick hair and great dance moves, but dang, if Zed does not wholly steal every scene he is in, well done, Milo—
The effect these films has had on my husband and I specifically cannot be overstated. It’s become one of our ‘things’. It’s weird. We would never have predicted it. Unashamedly, we will reference it. We turn on Ain’t No Doubt About It so often, with so much love, I wholeheartedly believe if we’d known about it before, it would have played at our literal wedding reception. It’s become one of our songs.
We have inside jokes we throw out during every rewatch, and they are always funny, shut up yes they are we’re hilarious—singing I’m the Map (Dora the Explorer, children) every time Addison comes onscreen during the third film, adding “-wolf” to every vaguely were-sounding word the characters say during the second film (“herewolf. therewolf. wherewolf. swearwolf.” you will want to leave the room if you’re watching with us while Gotta Find Where I Belong is playing), getting up and dancing during Ain’t No Doubt About It, yelling aloud at Addison for complaining about not having a people when she’s got an entire cheer squad of human beings at her beck and call for all three movies, and our current favorite—adding unnecessary Zed-rhymes to Exceptional Zed. “I’m exceptional Zed, and he’s exceptional Ted, and that’s exceptional Fred, and you’re exceptional Ned”. Sometimes we will yell “SAYS THE GIRL WHO WORE A WIG HER WHOLE LIFE” at each other in the middle of a teasing argument, whether it makes sense or not in the moment.
We thought the third Zombies was gonna be it. We thought, well, we saw them all, got here just in time for the last one, yay, good job everyone, let’s see what else is on—
But that stinger animation at the end of Z-3. With the vampires? And the mermaids? We complained very loudly to each other, every rewatch, that they should be making more. At the very least, they should include the vampires. Where, now, will we get our free, stupid, cringey serotonin?
And then Meg and Milo teased a fourth installment on Instagram and I texted it to my husband and we waited with bated breath for a trailer. Trailer came out. Husband and I spent an entire car ride making predictions. “I bet Addison will be on the vampires’ side and Zed will be on the light people’s side.” “That tracks. I bet it’s gonna be Romeo and Juliet but with vampires.” “I bet they’ll pass the torch, they’re too old now.” “Girl, don’t say that, if Zed’s not there, we’re not there.”
We were both right. All our predictions came true. We ordered pizza and I baked cookies and we watched Zombies 4: Dawn of the Vampires on July 11th and devoured it. We’ve had the soundtrack on repeat during every car ride. They almost killed Zed and my husband sat beside me absolutely irate. They played a Someday reprise, but with The Horrors™, and we were distraught. Those new kids killed it. They will be an excellent pair of successors.
And then they said goodbye to Zed and Addison and Milo and Meg on a mountaintop (my husband and I met and fell in love living in a mountain range, and got engaged in a field with similar views), with a darling little tap dance, and they played a secure, confident, beautiful reprise of Ain’t No Doubt About It, full of joy, completely unexpectedly, and my husband and I huddled on the couch together, both of us trying not to get a little weepy in front of my sister, who joined us for the movie’s debut. My fella doesn’t cry. Do you ever have specific stories that just feel like they’re yours? Together?
(That song—that version—will be played if we ever do that whole unnecessary renew-your-vows Second Wedding thing. 100%. For the past week, fella’s asked me to turn it on at random moments, when life is too quiet.)
Listen to me, my husband is my best friend in the whole wide world, and these films just clicked into our specific dynamic together. Something about Zed and Addison, arguably the healthiest Disney Channel relationship since Kim and Ron—there’s something there. Something-something, like recognizes like, something-something—
I have deep love for these stupid movies. More love for them than for HSM. More love for them than for any of the others, and after a few years, I think it’s deserved. (But even if it wasn’t, I’d like them!) There’s something to be said for a story that never takes itself too seriously. Something to be said for a theme that’s simple and true. Something to be said for making something bright, and happy, and silly, something kind and full of cheer (where are you going, that wasn’t on purpose—) There’s something to be said, too, for a sweet cast that’s full of humility and affection, always willing to drop whatever they’re doing and jump back into Seabrook for another funky good time of singing, dancing, and wearing toxic amounts of hair dye. Meg and Milo literally helped produce the fourth film. Zac Efron who?
At first, my man and I didn’t tell people we had seen these movies. We didn’t reference it outside the house. Then, slowly, like a new haircut, it stopped being weird. It stopped being embarrassing. We just—liked it. Morally, I have one or two quibbles with some decisions they made theme-wise and character-wise in the third film, obviously, but they more than made up for it in the fourth film.
Disney’s Zombies is pure, stupid fun, and it’s okay. It’s okay to have fun. It’s okay to like something that isn’t 100% perfect, or MCU-level quality. Not everything has to be saturated in cynicism. You can find all kinds of pretty things outside if you’ll commit to braving the bugs and the mud.
Who cares what people think? If there’s nothing morally obscene or clearly wrong in what you’re enjoying, seriously—talk about it. Laugh about it. Just like it. It’s gonna be fine (so fine. ain’t no doubt about it-)
