It’s a zombie film staple: that awful moment when a loved one has been infected by the virus and now you’ve got some hard choices. Maggie stretches this idea out to one interminably boring and mawkish film, overlaid with YA-dystopian self-pity. In a standard-issue post-apocalyptic world of car-wreck-strewn highways and creepy deserted convenience stores, Maggie (Abigail Breslin) has been infected by the zombie bug; she’s in the initial stages of skin discolouration on her hands, being cared for by her grizzled old uninfected dad, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger. He has already had the task of taking his axe to his erstwhile lovely neighbours, who came shambling on to his property. Now he has to decide if and when to flick the safety off his shotgun and lead poor, confused Maggie out into the back yard. But first they’ve got a bit more bonding and indie acting to do, and Maggie must bid farewell to some equally stricken boy admirer, who’s got those same icky black veins starting to creep up his cute face. The whole thing is drowning in body fluids and emo slush. As for producer-star Arnie, trudging grimly through this nonsense, there’s no sign of the former Governator and Terminator turning into the Seriousactingator.
