Zombie cinema is known not for its intricate character development, but for its visceral affect on the spectator, achieved largely through images of abjection such as rotting corpses feeding upon the living. In the first decade of the twenty-first century, Europe breathed new life into the slow-moving, brain-hungry monsters made popular by George A. Romero back in 1968. Employing high-definition technology, lightning-fast jump-cuts, and hyperrealistic depictions of blood and gore, European zombie films such as 28 Days Later (Danny Boyle 2002) and [Rec] (Jaume Balaguéro and Paco Plaza 2007) exaggerated the rules that had been faithfully followed by their American ancestors. Zombies came from Great Britain, Spain, and France. The epidemic lacked a German specimen until Marvin Kren’s one-hour film, Rammbock, hit German television in winter 2010. Rammbock is not (that) bloody, not (that) gory, and prima vista represents the contrary to the aforementioned European zombie films. While it could be argued that Rammbock’s lack of extreme gore is due to budgetary constraints or censorship, this essay regards it as an artistic decision that shifts the perspective from the eviscerated body to the eviscerated image; such a shift in perspective strips the zombie narrative to the bone, exposing the cinematic ontology of the zombie as being less about extreme gore than it is about the extreme interaction between the photographic image and the gesturing human form.