Mantan Moreland makes this film. He is hilarious in this. At the end, it makes pretty much no sense. It's pretty racist I suppose but it was 1941 (not trying to justify it, just an observation)

Fairly fun horror-comedy. The ending makes precious little sense at all, but...anyway, Moreland steals the show (and probably a few towels as well) in his role, especially in the exchanges with sassy Marguerite Whitten. All of which just goes to demonstrate that, though honkies may have been on top of the food chain back then, there's no disguising the fact that they're generally boring as hell. The only intrigue with the rest is trying to figure out what Woodbury's accent is supposed to be.

Remarkably racist, but it manages to come off endearingly, thanks to Mantan Moreland. It's a better comedy than it is a horror movie, thanks again to Mantan Moreland. Really, without him this would be an awful, awful movie.

"If there's one thing I wouldn't wanna be twice, zombies is both of them!"

Black comedian Moreland carries the day in this otherwise wooden back-lot chiller. The pic's offhanded but relentless racism (which extends to Irishman Purcell as well) is truly appalling, though Mantan manages to transcend. Like many B movies of its era, this one is more interesting as sociology than as horror.

Zombies, Nazi's, Moreland and more zombies. Decent effort from all. Drags a little here and there but not too much. That Marguerite Whitten is one delectable li'l number in that maid outfit; it's not just zombies who like dark meat! Yummy.