Editorials
[You Should Play This] Travel the ‘Death Road to Canada’
“You Should Play This” focuses on modern horror games worth your time and attention.
The zombie apocalypse is overdone in much the same way saying that the zombie apocalypse is overdone is. It takes something truly novel to escape from the rancid horde of me too half-hearted undead fodder.
In the realm of video games, this is as true as anywhere else. The use of zombies and the aforementioned zombie apocalypse are rarely done well. The indie scene has plenty of the fodder, but it also houses most of the good takes as well.
Take Death Road to Canada. A beautiful hybrid of text-based adventure and roguelike dungeon crawler with a deliriously silly sense of humor, this procedurally-generated indie gem both embraces and pokes fun at the zombie genre with plenty of knowing nods to other media and the tropes they often employ.
The title is somewhat explanatory. You must guide survivors of a zombie apocalypse in the US on a road trip to the supposed safe haven that is Canada. Simple enough on the surface, but there’s plenty to be worried about on the journey there.
Your party of up to four survivors must scrape together fuel for the car they’re using for the road trip. Then there’s the small matter of weapons, ammo, food, and medical supplies as well. You can acquire these whenever the game offers up a location to raid. Then your intrepid little posse must smack, batter, and generally destroy the shambling undead as you search gas stations, hotels, sewers and more to get some goodies.
During these 2D top-down action-oriented segments, you wield whatever you can find. That can be anything from shopping carts to pistols to lump hammers and all sorts in between. They can break, of course, meaning you have to time your shots (one hit might knock a zombie down, but not end it outright) and try to keep ahead of the hordes rather than take the fight to them every time (especially as you’ll knacker your poor survivors out).
It helps that the undead are the slow and shuffling type. You plan right and you can avoid large swathes of them on your way to gathering supplies. Yet in true old-fashioned zombie tradition, it’s very easy to let a group of them surround you, and that is almost always going to end badly for you.
Lucky for you that as long as one of your party is alive, you’re still in the game. With the procedural nature of what Death Road to Canada throws at you, however, a rather relatively inane moment can see it all fall apart in morbidly amusing fashion. Then it’s time to have another crack, with new survivors, slightly different places, and more oddball moments.
The oddball moments mostly come during the text-based side of Death Road to Canada. As the group travel on the road, they’ll have conversations and be faced with choice-based scenarios. The outcome of these vary depending on a) what the character’s traits are, and b) if they’re human or otherwise. Yes, your party can consist of more than just human survivors. There are dogs and cats (who can drive, because why not?) and even a very grumpy gnome to be found on the way to the Great White North. The replay value in Death Road to Canada is found in these ever-changing mixes of apocalyptic cliches and off the wall oddities.
You may only get a small amount of time in the company of certain characters, and you may not make it to Canada (it’s not as easy as it sounds), but it’s easy to get attached sometime, and maybe have a brief regret when Hank the gentle giant who can punch a broken car into a working state is swallowed by the horde in the dank depths of a dilapidated cannery.

Death Road to Canada takes the grey grimness of the post-apocalypse and splatters it with goofy 16-bit-styled charm. It trades a darker, nastier side for its comedy edge, but it remembers what surviving a zombie apocalypse is supposed to be about, traveling to a faraway place with a surly gnome, a belligerent canine companion, and an anime-obsessed, katana-wielding young lady. All in the hope of a better life.
Death Road to Canada is available now on PC, PlayStation 4, Nintendo Switch, and Xbox One.
Editorials
Revisiting ‘Subspecies’: The Gothic Horror Gem That Created an Unforgettable Vampire
Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.
This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.
That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!
The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise

A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.
The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.
However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.
In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.
Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains

In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.
Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.
This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.
Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.
Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget

Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.
That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.
I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?
Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.
That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.
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