Poultrygeist: Night of the Chicken Dead

In a town where a gleaming fast‑food empire suddenly rises atop an ancient Native American burial ground, the ordinary rhythm of daily life is abruptly undercut by an unsettling blend of satire and supernatural dread. The towering American Chicken Bunker looms like a monument to consumerism, its neon promise of quick meals clashing with the quiet, forgotten reverence of the land beneath. From the moment the first golden arches appear, the atmosphere feels charged—bright and garish on the surface, yet humming with an eerie, unspoken warning that something far older is stirring.

At the heart of this absurdly tense world is Arbie, a well‑meaning but clueless counter clerk who finds himself drawn back to the site of his teenage romance. He is thrust into a precarious partnership with his former lover, Wendy, now a sharp‑tongued college graduate whose activist fervor adds both fire and friction to their uneasy reunion. Their fragile alliance is further complicated by Hummus, a fry cook who dons a burqa and moves through the kitchen with a quiet confidence that hints at hidden depths. Together they navigate a workplace populated by an eclectic crew—each with quirks that border on the surreal—while the restaurant’s relentless push for profit seems to echo louder than the whispered chants of the land’s restless spirits.

As the night unfolds, the line between the mundane and the macabre begins to blur. The fast‑food façade masks a growing unease, where ordinary patrons and staff alike sense a strange, clucking undercurrent. Beneath the clatter of fryers and the glow of menu boards, an unsettling promise lingers: the very act of serving chicken may unleash forces that turn a simple meal into a nightmarish scramble. The film teeters between dark comedy and horror, inviting viewers to wonder how far the characters will go to keep the doors open—and what they’ll have to sacrifice in the process.

Last Updated: October 14, 2025 at 03:47