Zombieland

Chomp chomp, spew spew go the zippy ghouls in “Zombieland,” a minor diversion dripping in splatter and groaning with self-amusement. Like most zombie flicks, this addition to an already overstuffed, undernourished subgenre more or less follows the gore-slicked path charted by George A. Romero in his sanguinary 1968 masterwork, “Night of the Living Dead”: the undead chase after the semi-alive. Carnage ensues. But whereas Mr. Romero always has politics on his mind, the filmmakers here — Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick wrote and Ruben Fleischer directed — are strictly in it to bust guts (and heads).