You might be wondering why "Shaun of the Dead," a British film from director Edgar Wright, is getting almost consistently positive reviews from the critics. If you saw the trailer or read a synopsis, you might get the impression that what "Undercover Brother" did for blaxploitation movies, "Shaun of the Dead" does for zombie flicks, though with sharper wit and bloodier violence.
But while films like "Undercover Brother" may deliver a steady stream of hilarious jokes, they can never be called great because they give the audience, that fickle, shallow creature, exactly what it wants. "Shaun" will give you what you need: a challenge.
Yes, that's right. The movie with the tagline "A Romantic Comedy. With Zombies," has quite a lot to say about film genre and the way we react to the movies; perhaps more than any film since "Adaptation."
But if delving into the mind of the theatergoer is not your cup of tea, know that this genre-bender is also mostly hilarious, often exciting and sometimes horrifying. In a few scenes, it's all three at once.
"Shaun of the Dead" is, of course, a play on the name of the film "Dawn of the Dead," George Romero's 1978 zombie classic. Writers Edgar Wright (who also directed) and Simon Pegg (who stars as Shaun and worked with Wright on the British sitcom "Spaced") borrow more than just the name from Romero; their zombies are of the slow-moving, mindless and recently-deceased variety, hailing from an era before Danny Boyle turned his zombies into track stars in "28 Days Later."
But the movie is certainly not all or even mostly jokes that reference other films. As it begins, everyman Shaun lives with his flat mates, Ed (an amusing Nick Frost) and Pete (Peter Serafinowicz). Ed is overweight, unemployed, disgusting and a connoisseur of video games. Pete plays the straight man, annoyed by the irresponsibility of his fellow residents. Shaun spends his time drinking at his favorite pub, The Winchester, working at his dead-end job, and alienating his girlfriend, Liz.
Doesn't that sound like the premise for a Richard Curtis romantic comedy? Maybe with Hugh Grant, Colin Firth and the nasty guy from "Notting Hill?" Well, maybe it does but then the zombies arrive.
The trouble is, while thousands, or perhaps millions, are dying from this strange phenomenon that causes the recently deceased to rise and kill the living, neither Shaun nor Ed has any idea. Interspersed with the exposition is a satire of modern city life. Shaun wears a dead stare as he sits on the bus. He staggers home from the pub. He grimaces like the living dead as he rises from sleep. Already effectively a zombie, he doesn't notice that the local panhandler, the annoying neighbor's kid and the local convenience store owner have all gone milky-eyed and rotten-fleshed; however, he does manage to notice that almost every channel on the telly is covering some widespread supernatural event (except for VH1, which features a concert).
After milking the comic potential from this situation, Shaun and Ed take up arms against their invaders. Their arms include spoons, pans, the "Batman" soundtrack on vinyl (but not "Purple Rain"), and, most effectively, a cricket bat. Then, these two gentlemen realize a higher calling and employ their talents to save Shaun's girlfriend and mother.
Continuing to synopsize would simultaneously drain the energy from the script's humor and fail to do the gags justice; the film relies both on the delivery from the talented cast and also from tremendously original tangents that leave the audience pleasantly dazed, but not confused.
It suffices to say that one sequence makes murder by clubbing as funny as it's ever been, and that Shaun, Ed, Shaun's mother, Shaun's stepfather (Bill Nighy, channeling soporific evil), Liz and Liz's friends Diane and David (who bears an uncanny resemblance to a middle-aged Harry Potter) scurry willy-nilly through London, occasionally killing and being killed by assorted members of the undead community. Eventually, the story returns to The Winchester, the beloved pub-turned-Alamo.
Where's the space to fit serious commentary on humor and horror in this silly tale? In short, it's in the third act, but it begins subtly. The hilarity begins with light-hearted romantic comedy fare, touches on screwball and then moves into black humor that keeps getting blacker. Soon, it's so black that you wonder why you're laughing. Then, you stop laughing.
Genre spoofs generally settle for mocking the conventions of the genre. (A rare exception is "Young Frankenstein," thanks to Gene Wilder's immortal performance.) Wright and Pegg have crafted a script that seamlessly blends gasps and laughter so that these effects enforce each other instead of seeming at odds.
Amazingly grim situations follow hilarious scenes without violating the logic of the narrative. Often, the horrific and comedic situations bear close resemblance to each other. Why is one shocking and the other amusing? Why does the viewer suddenly care about characters that a little while ago seemed vacuous and expendable?
I don't know the answer, but I think it has something to do with how we react to characters and situations in cinema based on what we initially perceive the genre to be. It doesn't tackle the issue of story classification or craft as overtly or with the same verve as "Adaptation" (whose narrative arc it nevertheless shares), which could be considered a weakness. I suspect that more than a few viewers will be frustrated rather than inspired by the range of feelings they experience. Others might not even notice how the story changes. The film is nevertheless effective because it is entertaining on face and artistic upon closer analysis. What film lover could ask for anything more?
"Shaun of the Dead" is neither a pleasant comedy, a mere parody of the zombie sub-genre nor a social satire that tries to take deadly aim at our evil culture. All three would have tread on relatively familiar territory. Instead, it dissects the phenomenon of humor. Observe your emotions, where you laugh and where you cringe and why. That's the real show.
