Reviews
‘This Is Not A Test’ Unleashes A YA Zombie Apocalypse That Feels Like Detention [BHFF Review]
The melodramatic adaptation of the Courtney Summers YA novel fails to do anything new with a zombie apocalypse, despite a strong, committed performance by Olivia Holt.
“The end of the world is a lonely place.”
Film has been exploring zombie stories for close to a century. Zombie stories consistently find an audience and are one of the more popular topics for horror to explore. At this point, the zombie genre is pretty played out and films need to work extra hard and have a distinct perspective in order to feel worthwhile. Zombie stories don’t always have to reinvent the wheel, but the topic should be able to hold a mirror up to society or prompt some deeper level of change in its characters. This Is Not A Test, based on the young adult novel of the same name by Courtney Summers, has the right ingredients to do something different that can dig a little deeper. Unfortunately, This Is Not A Test becomes a frustrating case of wasted potential where a compelling vantage point for its vulnerable protagonist still isn’t enough to give this undead genre a pulse.
The most interesting thing about This Is Not A Test is that it follows a suicidal, abused protagonist through a zombie apocalypse. It would be so easy for Sloane (Olivia Holt) to just give up, become zombie chow, and put an end to her pain. This zombie apocalypse becomes an unexpected epiphany for Sloane. She’s legitimately shocked when the end of the world helps her realize that she actually wants to live. The whole idea that dying is easy and living is hard is nothing new, but it’s a powerful and appropriate theme for This Is Not A Test to unpack. Sloane, along with the other sullen teens that she’s holed up with at school, are forced to weigh their respective trauma against brain-eating zombies. This compelling angle is gradually swallowed by the film’s stronger YA sensibilities. Everyone has their own melodramatic trigger, which on their own wouldn’t be a big deal. However, grouped together, they collectively feel reductive of standard young adult archetypes.
This Is Not A Test becomes very “Detention of the Dead” once Sloane and a handful of other teen survivors find refuge from the undead in their high school. This story is set in the late ‘90s and adopts a very punk rock aesthetic to match. It’s reminiscent of Marcus Dunstan and Patrick Melton’s Unhuman, which is the more tonally consistent of the two films. This Is Not A Test’s ‘90s vibes are initially strong, but they wane over time. It doesn’t take long for this to devolve into generic zombie fodder. This Is Not A Test unabashedly embraces a lot of generic genre staples. Curiously, director Adam MacDonald is kind of a pro when it comes to horror archetypes, having helmed three seasons of Slasher and its follow-up, Hell Motel, which were dense in genre tropes. Despite this diverse expertise, MacDonald’s take on zombies leaves a lot to be desired.
There are many moments in This Is Not A Test when it feels like the film is ready to break free from convention and do something different, only to stay in line. The rampant YA energy gives it the feeling of a CW or Netflix pilot, despite its good intentions and the copious blood, guts, and gore. It’s all just too much of a soap opera for the horror to ever connect. Holt does the best work with this material as she processes her grief over losing her sister and channels it into killer instinct. She’s the film’s saving grace and it’s nice to see Holt become a veritable scream queen at this point after Totally Killer and Heart Eyes. Holt and Froy Gutierrez are also both from Cruel Summer and there are more than a few moments when This Is Not A Test could double as some non-canon Halloween special.
The teen melodrama and zombie carnage are often at odds with each other, even though they’re meant to be complementary. There are decent practical gore effects in play, but the zombie attacks are presented in such a frenzied, wild manner that quickly wears thin. It’s an intentional choice that might be an attempt at symbolizing Sloane and company’s frayed mental states, but it just doesn’t work. It’s a perfect example of the film just needing to get out of its own way. That being said, This Is Not A Test absolutely nails the random chaos that kicks off its zombie outbreak. The film’s introduction successfully captures the public’s paralyzing fear and the visual terror of it all. This early chaos is some of This Is Not A Test’s strongest material. Ironically, all the bigger picture apocalypse stuff has more energy than the Lord of the Flies microcosm that plays out in the school.
This Is Not A Test does its best to breathe fresh life into the zombie subgenre by giving it a young adult makeover, but it’s an imbalanced misfire that shambles towards mediocrity. Overthinking certain stylistic elements, while underthinking other narrative hurdles prevent This Is Not A Test from graduating into a classic. This Is Not A Test may not stick the landing, but it bravely stares into the abyss and champions some flawed, inspirational underdogs. There’s still enough to sink one’s teeth into here.
This is Not a Test screened at the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival; Independent Film Company & Shudder will release in 2026.
Your enjoyment of Strung will depend on your tolerance of clichés, contrivances, and overused plot devices. There are plenty to go around in Malcolm D. Lee’s new thriller—and each one lands with a conspicuous thud. Yet this is also a movie where the formulaicness leads to amusement.
Strung is already off to a tropey start when the protagonist, a bereft violinist named Laila (Chloe Bailey), is vividly hallucinating during one of her recitals. Who does she see in that ghastly vision on stage? The sister whose death she blames herself for, of course. That’s when Laila wakes up from what’s actually a hallucination within a dream.
After a one-night stand with a handsome rando, another too-good-to-be-true opportunity soon falls into Laila’s lap. Because she’s broke, couch-surfing and forced to practice the violin inside her best friend’s closet, she jumps on it without much forethought. That opportunity is indeed suspicious, though; a wealthy grandmother (Lynn Whitfield) hires the main character to be her granddaughter’s live-in music teacher. The pay and accommodations are definitely good, but what about the client? Or clients, as it turns out.
Strung: Anna Diop as Imani, Lucien Laviscount as Marcus. (Photo by: Ilze Kitshoff/Blumhouse)
First, there’s pianist-in-training Zuri (Romy Woods), the walking definition of “precocious child in a horror movie”. She hides behind the bizarre mask once belonging to her late father, and her preferred form of communication is sharing obscure facts. Eventually, though, Zuri is the least of Laila’s problems; it’s her neglectful, demanding, and temperamental mother (Anna Diop) who proves to be the greatest obstacle at each turn. Diop just about snatches every scene with her zealous performance as the expectant Imani. Yet as amusing as that moody matriarch can be, her behavior brings up a good question: Is this cartoonishly devious character the legit villain here, or is she simply a red herring?
The kid’s creepy mask, along with Blumhouse’s involvement, might suggest a different kind of horror movie is at work here. Strung, however, is more like a smutty modernization of classic domestic thrillers that feature big houses, imperiled women, and heaps of paranoia. Keep in mind, this is not a bait-and-switch situation; Alan B. McElroy’s screenplay never leads the viewer down a different path, only to then send them another way.
Strung feels stitched together from other (and better) movies, and your sussing out the suspects is never a hard task. But on the plus side, this movie is often bright and even a little colorful; it’s not too riddled with scenes of flat darkness or washed-out palettes. The music is also another area of interest; certain choices corroborate that comparison to old Hollywood thrillers.
Chloe Bailey as Laila. (Photo by: Ilze Kitshoff/Blumhouse)
So while Strung does string out a number of overplayed twists—with some being less foreseeable than others—it’s a bit comforting to see how some ideas never cease to be used, no matter how familiar they’ve become. The cast’s eagerness also compensates for the general been-there-done-that quality. So often, their commitment to the story is integral to the movie’s best hand-over-mouth moments (and there are quite a few).
Joe Bob Briggs once said the best source of exploitation movies today is the Lifetime network. If you agree, as well as love Tubi’s own efforts in similar filmmaking, then Strung is made for you. This movie taps that same vein of suspense schlock, all while adding a few flourishes of its own.
Strung streams on Peacock starting on June 26.
Strung (photo: Peacock)
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