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Some time in the near future, President Bush is in the midst of his fourth term, America is at war with everybody and a virus, intended to keep soldiers alive and fighting even after they’re dead, turns stripper Kat (Jenna Jameson) into a zombie. Her coworkers want to join in when they realize she’s an even better dancer after she’s dead, which means boatloads of cash for the club’s sleazy owner (Robert Englund) who locks customers in a cage after they’re bitten by his girls.

Big question: Is this really a movie playing in legitimate theaters?

Catch it: A surprisingly effective piece of sleaze, “Zombie Strippers” is more entertaining than “Planet Terror” and funnier than “Superhero Movie” or “Drillbit Taylor.” The film’s creepy and campy, sexy and sloppy, and probably best watched between the hours of 2-5 a.m. Or as a completely ridiculous double feature with “Atonement.”

Skip it: If you’ll be offended by exploding heads, guys writing checks at a strip club, girls asking if anyone wants a “face dance” or the sight of Kat reading Nietzsche backstage before performing. You pick which is the most disturbing.

Bottom line: The story starts slowly, plenty of jokes don’t work and the most revolutionary thing about “Zombie Strippers” is that it doesn’t ask Jameson to flaunt her crotch. But late-night gore-fests aren’t trying to reinvent their bloody wheel; They just want to make it drip, arouse and disgust, and in that regard the film doesn’t top George A. Romero but might make him proud.

Bonus: Try working this sentence into conversation: “That chick’s as cold as the dead flesh of a stripping zombie.” Easy, right?

What do you think of 'Zombie Strippers'? Email me: mpais@tribune.com

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