“Its refusal to behave is the point.”
The strange choices create the kind of friction that follows you out of the theatre and into the argument.

Anna and the Apocalypse
Horror · Comedy · Fantasy · 2018
A zombie apocalypse threatens the sleepy town of Little Haven—at Christmas—forcing Anna and her friends to fight, slash, and sing their way to survival. In a desperate race to reach their loved ones, they soon learn that no one is safe in this new world, and with civilization falling apart around them, the only people they can truly rely on are each other.
Anna and the Apocalypse
“Oh the weather outside is frightful...”
Critical arithmetic
One number, for now.
Scores change. Arguments endure.
TMDB
6.0 / 10
Community rating
A zombie apocalypse threatens the sleepy town of Little Haven—at Christmas—forcing Anna and her friends to fight, slash, and sing their way to survival. In a desperate race to reach their loved ones, they soon learn that no one is safe in this new world, and with civilization falling apart around them, the only people they can truly rely on are each other.
What this film says about your taste.
Not a recommendation score. A measure of how closely the film’s taste signals resemble yours.
The archetype split
Who fights over Anna and the Apocalypse?
The Arthouse Gremlin
“The stranger, the better.”
Read their caseThe Prestige Tourist
“You like your greatness pre-approved.”
Read their objectionThe split comes from the same five-axis model used by the test, not audience ratings or review sentiment.
Nearby on the taste map.
TMDB supplies the candidates. CriticWise reorders them by craft, strangeness, prestige, emotion, and pace.
Watch in your region.
Cinema release signals and current streaming, rental, and purchase options for your region.
Streaming availability data supplied by JustWatch.
The people responsible.
Cast & crew
Directed by
John McPhail
Written by
Alan McDonald · Ryan McHenry · Tommy Reilly
Put Anna and the Apocalypse on trial.
Two incompatible taste archetypes. One film. Read the arguments, then issue a completely binding cultural ruling.
“Oddness is not depth.”
A film can break every rule and still leave nothing behind but the memory of how hard it tried to be singular.






