Bloke of the Apocalypse: In the rural back blocks of New Zealand, a father and son battle a zombie apocalypse and some annoying neighbours, all while taking care of their pet lamb, Lambie, and zombified Mum, Julie.
There’s something quietly brilliant about Bloke of the Apocalypse. It’s not loud, it’s not polished, and it’s certainly not trying to be the next big thing. But in its own understated way, it’s one of the most distinctive animated projects to come out of Aotearoa in recent memory. Created by 21-year-old Charlie Faulks, this six-part YouTube series is a lo-fi apocalypse stitched together with deadpan humour, elastic animation, and a surprising amount of emotional depth.
The premise is deceptively simple: Bloke and his son Oliver live on a quiet farm until the Wenza virus turns their world into a zombie-infested mess. Alongside Oliver's pet lamb and their undead mum Julie, the family must navigate the end of the world, and their own dysfunction, with a kind of stoic indifference that feels uniquely Kiwi. It’s not just a survival story; it’s a slow-burning character study wrapped in absurdity.
What makes Bloke of the Apocalypse stand out isn’t its plot (which is minimal by design), but its tone. The show is absurd, yes, but it’s never manic. It’s restrained, almost meditative, like watching Ren & Stimpy after a long day on the farm. Bloke is the archetypal rural dad: gruff, emotionally unavailable, and vaguely annoyed by everything. Oliver, by contrast, is a jittery ball of nerves; a chihuahua in human form. Their dynamic is classic odd-couple comedy, but filtered through the lens of small-town New Zealand masculinity.
The animation style is raw and elastic, with characters that stretch, twitch, and slump in ways that recall Adventure Time, Gravity Falls, and Regular Show. But there’s also a deliberate ugliness to the design; a kind of visual apathy that mirrors the characters’ emotional detachment. It’s not pretty, and that’s the point. The entire series was hand-animated on iPads using ToonSquid, with each scene crafted in a separate file and stitched together in DaVinci Resolve. It’s a DIY aesthetic that adds to the show’s charm, especially when you consider the scale of the project and the fact that Charlie was just 19 when he secured nearly $500,000 in funding from NZ On Air.
The humour is quintessentially Kiwi: dry, awkward, and often delivered with a blank stare. It’s the kind of comedy that doesn’t ask for laughs; it just exists, waiting for you to find it funny. There are moments of surreal tension, flashes of emotional insight, and plenty of jokes that land precisely because they don’t try too hard. It’s a vibe that will resonate with fans of Footrot Flats, Fred Dagg, and anyone who’s ever lived in a town where the local dairy doubles as a community hub.
Beneath the surface, Bloke of the Apocalypse is quietly ambitious. It’s a story about masculinity, emotional repression, and the contradictions of rural life. It’s about surviving not just zombies, but the weight of expectation, the silence between father and son, and the weirdness of being emotionally numb in a world that’s falling apart. There’s a subtle commentary here on New Zealand’s own pandemic response; the stoicism, the contradictions, the sense of “she’ll be right” even when everything’s clearly not.
That said, the series isn’t without its flaws. The pacing can feel slow, especially if you’re expecting traditional plot beats or high-stakes drama. The narrative meanders, and some episodes feel more like mood pieces than story arcs. But that’s part of the appeal. Bloke of the Apocalypse is best consumed in one sitting, like a short film broken into six parts. It’s not about what happens; it’s about how it feels.
And it feels like something special. With more support and a larger team, this could evolve into a flagship piece of New Zealand animation. There’s a wealth of untapped potential in our end-of-the-world stories, and Charlie Faulks has proven he's got the motivation to mine it. Bloke of the Apocalypse is a quiet triumph; a stoic fever dream that lingers long after the credits roll.
The show was released on YouTube Friday 31st October 2025.
The show will premiere at Terror-Fi Film Festival on the follow dates & locations;
- Auckland – 6th November
- Christchurch – 16th November