I totally love Shaun Of The Dead (2004). It’s not just a great horror spoof; it’s a bloody great movie. And its clarity has much to do with it.
Zombies have long formed their own, important sub-genre in movies. The genre started with White Zombie back in 1932, and it keeps going strong.
Today, it seems that the undead have a higher survival rate at the box office than many other genres. One of my recent favourites was the Korean master piece Train To Busan (2016).
Remove The Head, Destroy The Brain
Zombie pictures rarely cross over into mainstream territory, and this is what made Shaun Of The Dead special. It was produced in the year my son was born, and 12 years later we watched it together. We had a ball. The ultimate father/son bonding movie.
Shaun is a classic that defies pigeonholing, and it transcends style. It satisfies the staunchest fan of the genre, as well as those who have never seen any of Shaun’s zombie predecessors.
Among others, it pays homage to the movies of George A. Romero, easily the most revered zombie writer/director in cinema history.
Apparently Romero was so impressed with Shaun that he asked filmmakers Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright to appear for zombie cameos in Land of the Dead (2005), the fourth part in Romero’s Dead series.
How To Make Zombies Go Viral
For reasons other than a recent zombie outbreak, super slacker Shaun is pushed out of his comfort zone. He has to get his girlfriend back, kill his mum’s boyfriend, and make it to the pub alive. Or, as the IMDB logline states in a rare example of clarity:
A man decides to turn his moribund life around by winning back his ex-girlfriend, reconciling his relationship with his mother, and dealing with an entire community that has returned from the dead to eat the living.
It gives us the goals, the circumstances/stakes, and the theme.
When a logline works, it often promises a well-structured, easily-remembered story, and this is exactly what Shaun Of The Dead delivers.
Filmmakers tend to underestimate the value of a simple logline, reflecting a clear structure. They think it makes the film feel predictable, or it dumbs things down. You know why a short, crystal-clear logline is so important?
It makes word of mouth a piece of cake.
After seeing the movie, my 12-year old could summarise the essence of the story in once sentence. That’s how successful movie marketing works.
Don’t get me wrong: you still need to deliver a brilliant movie. But the masses will do the viral campaigning for you.
Avoiding Death By Slackers
Shaun impersonates the perfect transformational character, forced to go on a mission that would be impossible for his normal self.
Early in the story, his girlfriend Liz paints the picture of where he is going with his life: “Look, if I don’t do something, I’m gonna end up in that pub every night for the rest of my life like those other sad old fuckers, drinking myself to death wondering what the hell happened.”
Shaun needs to grow up, let go of the friend who enables his immaturity, and settle with Liz… if he doesn’t want to lose her.
In a mythological sense, he will also need to kill his father, so he can enter the realm of masculine adulthood. And all the while, he is metaphorically surrounded by the threat of death by slackers.
The first act runs for about 35 minutes, yet it doesn’t drag. The zombie outbreak gives it tension, and the Wright/Pegg dialogue and editing gives it pace. As a result, the shortish second act feels nice and tight, too.
Shaun Of The Dead – Break Into 2
In the scene/sequence that concludes Act One, Shaun gives us an exact rundown of what he needs to achieve in the movie. It could be a rehearsal for the movie’s pitch, edited in the signature snappy Edgar Wright style.
But before we get to this sequence, Ed calls into the phone: “We’re coming to get you, Barbara!”
The irony is that George A. Romero, who was given a private viewing of the film, was oblivious to the fact that this line was copied literally from his own film Night of the Living Dead (1968). He only found out later after a phone conversation with Wright.
What follows is fabulous storytelling. We first see the events as they should happen, but with each next version, Shaun shows an increasingly flawed response to the various calls to adventure.
On the last shot of the sequence, we know where the story really should not, but might well end: the Winchester.
-Karel Segers
Karel Segers wrote his first produced screenplay at age 17. Today he is a story analyst with experience in acquisition, development and production. He has trained students worldwide, and worked with half a dozen Academy Award nominees. Karel speaks more European languages than he has fingers on his left hand, which he is still trying to find a use for in his hometown of Sydney, Australia. The languages, not the fingers.
Subscribe to our YouTube Channel!
The thing about Sean is that he sucks throughout the film, but he is very lucky. Sadly this doesn’t rub off on the characters around him. But part of the film’s genius is to show how all the middle class ideals Sean hasn’t achieved turn out to be illusory, or shallow – be it the career-driven housemate who dies in the shower, the young middle class couple who turn out to be thoroughly crap (half of whom is also a thoroughly loathsome, embittered loser), the stable middle aged couple whose relationship is built on wishful thinking or an inability to express feelings, or the whole notion of the hero itself – in the end, the army rolls in to save the day. As for Sean, well, at least he tried. But he’s no Daryl Dixon.
The real journey is that undertaken by Sean’s girlfriend. She learns that while Sean sucks, he does love her, and that’s all that really matters. Her own middle class yearnings are challenged by this – she realises the value of Sean but also his gormless, loser friend, Ed. After all, what happens at the end of the film? She changes the decor, having since given up trying to change the man, and lets his (now undead) mate Ed live in the shed. And she’s finally happy. Apart from a romzomcom and a horror film, SoD is also a rich and clever social satire.
I really like that take on it. Liz does indeed go through a journey of herself.
But Shaun grows in a bigger way. Initially he doesn’t do shit. At the end, he is proactive.
Initially, he doesn’t do what he promises. At the end, he stands by what he says.
Small proof: first time he goes to Liz he SAYS he’ll climb up to the flat. Second time, he DOES it.
In the final act, he is totally in control, does what he promises, and Liz respects him for it. That’s why she stays with him.