Believe it or not, it was a whole twenty moons ago that one of the best horror comedies graced the screen—(yes, 2004 really was that long ago). Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead is a bonafide classic whose edgy humour, offensive charm, and bloodied zombie mayhem have cemented its zealous reputation all these years later.
Wright’s prized status began in the early 2000s thanks to his directorial efforts in Spaced, a British comedy series starring Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Jessica Hynes, all of whom feature in Shaun of the Dead. It was from Spaced where Wright and Pegg conceived the idea of their soon-to-be horror hit. It is based on an episode titled ‘Art’, which features Pegg’s character hallucinating a zombie invasion after a prolonged session playing Resident Evil 2. With the pair both being major appreciators of the genre, the duo took their idea of hilarious zombie antics to Film4 before the studio eventually overly condensed the budget and, therefore, broke down certain crucial plot points. With a dream in mind, Wright refused to quit his zombie feature and pursued various studios over a two-year period before Working Title Films finally invested.
The project soon gained traction, casting major names in comedy from television series such as Black Books and The Office. Actors included Peter Serafinowicz, Dylan Moran, Tamsin Greig, Martin Freeman and Lucy Davis, alongside major names in feature films such as Penelope Wilton and Bill Nighy. The star-studded lineup also included a mass of extras playing the ghouls, nearly all of whom were part of fan communities for Spaced that were contacted on their online threads to be a part of a production from the makers of their favourite TV show. With a solid cast and crew, the nine-week filming process began before wrapping up and premiering at a whopping 367 cinemas and staying in the box office top ten for a total of five whole weeks.
It’s safe to say that audiences went wild for this raucous zombie flick, with its reputation only growing stronger yearly. As it nears its twentieth anniversary, Shaun of the Dead is still making waves, dominating the discourse of satirical horror and creating conversations in the landscape of cinema. In the world of scholarly research and film readings, Shaun of the Dead has dipped its toes into many analytical waters. A popular take is how the film joins the barrage of apocalypse-themed releases from the mid-2000s in response to world events that were becoming frequent in the home with the increasing access to media and news.
Others suggest that the film is a poetic example of transnational cinema which is commonly found within the UK. The leading players of zombie cinema primarily originated from across the pond, with the likes of George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968) dictating the direction that zombie media followed for years. On the flip side, in Britain, there has been a constant ode to men in comedy who can’t help but make a fool of themselves as they go about gallivanting and making a ruddy nuance of situations – think the likes of Monty Python, Dad’s Army, Only Fools and Horses etc. The combination of Americanised scares and dramatic monstrous ghouls with two-bit but still chucklesome characters makes Shaun of the Dead attract an admiration that many budding filmmakers admire to achieve one day.
Stepping away from the formalities, Shaun of the Dead thrives in its thematics and ideologies. Shaun of the Dead has a monotonous, gritty quality that takes a slice-of-life approach to an apocalyptic situation, reminiscent of the ‘Keep Calm and Carry on’ motto burned through the British mindset. It was through this niche characteristic that the film’s lampoon-like comedy was able to shine through. As a case in point, whilst writing the script, Wright took inspiration from his own sardonic attitude at times; after having his own late-night gaming session being immersed in the world of horror video games, he took to going for an early morning walk where it could be imagined that half of the public was either coming home dazed from a late night out, or exhaustively treading along, gearing up for the morning shift at work. It’s a scene of mundanity at its finest. With Wright’s brilliant, dry humour at hand, he couldn’t help but think how on Earth Britain would, with all of its chaos and caustic disposition, react if their early morning shenanigans were interrupted by a plague of flesh-hungry undead creatures.
Discussing Shaun of the Dead without mentioning a certain dessert-named cinematic series would be criminal. This zom-com is the first entry into the acclaimed and fantastically named ‘The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy’, followed by the ‘great er good’ Hot Fuzz (2007) and the sci-fi-esque The World’s End (2013). Ironically, the coining of the Cornetto only came to fruition long after Shaun of the Dead’s release; It was during the promotional stages of Hot Fuzz, where Cornetto’s were given as an aperitif, that led to Pegg and Wright wanting to include the beloved ice cream treat into further films. It may seem akin to a superficial, silly joke, yet the rambunctious nature of developing inside jokes led to the trilogy, particularly Shaun of the Dead, retrospectively developing an intriguing interpretation. The films are all comprised of out of their depth individuals tackling a massive issue at hand and growing as people, but not necessarily (and comedically deliberate) maturing in their adolescent-like ways.
The development of Shaun of the Dead includes a comic strip titled ‘There’s Something About Mary’ for 2000 AD, the applauded comic magazine. Following this was IDW Publishing’s several-issue adaptation of the horror, with drawings from Zack Howard and writings by Chris Ryall. That’s not to mention the various special edition physical media releases and collectable action figures. Alongside this was Clark Collis’ book ‘You’ve Got Red on You: How Shaun of the Dead Was Brought to Life’ (2021), which details interviews with cast and crew, storyboards and behind-the-scenes insights.
Even just a few years back, the humble humour of Shaun of the Dead shone once again during the lockdown periods in the UK, with Shaun’s iconic ‘plan’ becoming somewhat of a motto for folks at home. For reminder’s sake, Shaun comes up with a simple action plan to tackle the ole zombie issue: “Take car. Go to Mum’s. Kill Phil-“Sorry”-grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over”. The short, snappy and quintessentially British dialogue resurfaced via Pegg and Frost themselves as they put a modern spin on the plan by putting emphasis on staying home (avoiding the Winchester this time).
Shaun of the Dead’s legacy speaks for itself, with nearly every ‘best of horror’ list devoting a spot to this must-see film. This immeasurably hilarious take on a monster movie still garners a laugh-a-minute reaction from viewers, no matter how many times they’ve pressed play on this unmissable, culturally significant, and pivotal piece of cinema.
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1. Shaun of the Dead (Directed by Edgar Wright (2004)
The lives of aimless salesman Shaun (Simon Pegg) and his do-nothing roommate Ed (Nick Frost) are turned upside down when a zombie apocalypse hits the streets of London.
Burrowing itself as one of Britain’s most iconic films is Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead, a gory zombie mashup with a classic sentiment and enough one-liners to get even stone-faced viewers a right belly laugh. The world Wright establishes from the get go is dull and monotonous, giving Shaun and Ed’s habits a paint-by-numbers feel. Even after the first zombie appearance nothing much changes, they ‘keep mum’ about the severity of the literal apocalypse. Although the humour thrives in the humdrum moments, what keeps the script fresh is the continuous trajectories that Wright throws in the mix.
The original strategy for Shaun’s zombie action plan is to go to his mum’s (Penelope Wilton), kill his snobby step-father (Bill Nighy), grab his disgruntled girlfriend Liz (Kate Ashfield), then “go to The Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over”- if that doesn’t ring true to the good ole’ British spirit then I don’t know what does! Overtime Shaun of the Dead has done nothing but continue to defy everyone’s expectations for both British cinema and horror, with the film even featuring in the likes of Stephen King and Quentin Tarantino’s top film’s lists, and that’s not to mention the fact that the Zombie Godfather himself George A. Romero was so impressed that he gave Wright and Pegg a cameo role in Land of the Dead (2005).
2.The Wicker Man (Directed by Robin Hardy, 1973)
Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) lands on the grounds of Summerisle, a small Scottish island, to investigate the disappearance of a child. Howie’s puritan ways are tested after being shocked at the Islander’s worship of pagan Celtic gods and behaving in an open frivolous manner, leading Howie to suspect that something suspicious lurks around the corner.
British folk horror has seeded its way through the roots of classic cinema with the assistance from The Unholy Trinity- Witchfinder General (1968), Blood on Satan’s Claw (1971), and The Wicker Man (1973) with the latter being a distinctly respected piece of British cinema. In the early 1970s, writer Anthony Shaffer read the novel Ritual (David Pinner), detailing the events of a Christian police officer investigating a supposed ritualistic murder in a small village. Shaffer and Robin Hardy decided to use the novel as a source to create a horror focused upon old religion to contrast against the flow of Hammer horrors being released; lead Christopher Lee was also keen on breaking away from his archetypal Hammer roles.
Over the production course, it was decided that the film would stay away from graphic violence and gore as a focus on visceral material was not the method they wanted to adopt as their fear provoker. Hardy wanted a slow burning sense of doom to gradually unveil itself within the viewer, bubbling up an atmosphere of complete dread where we know that something terrible is going to happen, but are unaware of the when and where’s. And that’s precisely what was achieved. The Wicker Man has an earthy quality, one whose quiet tension is sown from the first scene, brewing a disconcerting air of trepidation and awe over the alarming exposition and dark landscapes.
3. Eden Lake (Directed by James Watkins, 2008)
School teacher Jenny (Kelly Reilly), and her boyfriend Steve (Michael Fassbender), take a trip to a remote lake in the English countryside to spend a romantic weekend together. However, a group of delinquent teens takes their chaos a step too far, resulting in a bloody fight for survival.
Eden Lake is a rough and gritty story that uses contemporary moral panics against a muddy backdrop to expel a level of savageness that rings back to classics such as Straw Dogs (1971) and Deliverance (1972). James Watkins works at a fast pace to immediately portray Jenny and Steve to be wholesome and soppy, far from the violent criminals they’ll be running from. Whilst the plot is being thickened we are lulled into siding with the couple. During this Watkin subtly plants in elements that foreshadow their fates. For example, instead of enjoying a chill evening in a beer garden, they are surrounded by screaming kids who are way up past their bedtime, followed by angered parents slapping the littluns. It may not be much, but from the getgo, a divide is created.
During the mid to late 2000s, every news channel and paper would have a feature on rising violence amongst adolescents, raising the alarm over the knife crime epidemic, but rather than give admittance over how these problems are created due to social and generational issues, the blame would be placed on ‘hoodies’ and grime music. Filmmakers such as Watkins employ the worries of Broken Britain to create a film that makes you feel morally conflicted and worrisome. Collaborating with the commentary is the film’s genuinely frightful nature. The woods have birthed an incredible setup for horror to thrive, with the dark trees casting haunting shadows and exuding a sense of isolation. Eden Lake tactically positions us alongside Jenny and Steve in the hardened wilderness, knowing that like them we are all alone amongst the terror.
4. 28 Days Later (Directed by Danny Boyle, 2002)
Cillian Murphy in “28 Days Later” (Photo by Sundance/WireImage)
A team of animal rights activists clumsily free a chimpanzee infected with the Rage virus which causes its host to go into a zombified uncontrollable rage. Four weeks later, Jim (Cillian Murphy) awakes from a coma, not knowing that civilization has come to an end. Whilst hastily discovering what’s happened he runs into a group of survivors and travels with them to a supposed safe haven.
The scene is the early 2000s, slow brooding zombies have held the spotlight for long enough, it’s time for rapid, furious, rabid zombies to rule the platform. By nature zombies are abject, their entire basis repulses, what with their drooling mouths and mangled decaying skin. When combined with the fact that the infected can climb and race, a terrifying recipe for fear is created. Danny Boyle knows how to alert our darkest anxieties, and 28 Days Later rivets and rolls to sharply hone in on that white-knuckle terror from the very first scene.
The setting avails use of the desolate grounds of the skeletal London town and dispiriting countryside as a terror provoking instrument that contrasts against the quick-paced camerawork and of course the zooming undead themselves. Adding to the intense pandemonium created in 28 Days Later is the panic-inducing score composed by John Murphy. The soundtrack continuously blasts synthesised electric drones that faintly mimic the air raid signals which would have gone off within those 28 days of the apocalypse. All of these elements, from the widescaped cinematography and booming score, to the heated performances and crazed zombies all meld together to create an unmissable showstopper.
5. The Devils (Directed by Ken Russell, 1971)
In 17th-century France, Father Grandier (Oliver Reed) attempts to protect the city of Loudun from the corruption-fueled establishment run by Cardinal Richelieu (Christopher Logue).
Ken Russell was a known agitator of the BBFC, igniting feuds amongst movie-goers over the graphic content of many of his films, and The Devils really take the honours for being not only one of his most controversial films but also a conqueror in 1970s banned British cinema. A large part of the contention resides with the themes of promiscuity painted upon a religious foreground, highlighting hierarchical abuse structures within worship and Rusell’s conscious wielding of distasteful, excess debaucheries. The Devils lewd principles take centre stage and become entirely inescapable, luckily enough the horror aspects are not covered up by the excess vulgarity. Plague-infested bodies being dumped into a limb pit, self-mutilation, and maggots sliming out of skull sockets are just some of the ghastly imagery that audiences are subjected to, thrusting the film into a dark territory that drives out a panicked and tense reaction.
6. Dog Soldiers (Directed by Neil Marshall, 2002)
A small squad of soldiers attend a mission in the Scottish highlands against a Special Air Service unit. Morning comes and they come across the unit’s sprawled apart remains, pushing the conclusion that someone or more like something is after them.
Neil Marshall forgoes a cosmopolitan setting and characters in favour of occupying the screen with rural land and pragmatic characters that waft an essence of realist brutalism throughout a fantastical storyline. Furthering the tough as nails exhibition is the apt lack of dramatics surrounding the werewolf’s existence. Marshall has stated that the werewolves purposefully do not have a lore background or curse-infused reasoning for their being.
The werewolves’ tall, gangly stature is enough to be absolutely nerve-wracking, especially when they bare their protruding fangs ready to sink into their prey’s unlucky flesh. The maximization of terror actually comes from an unexpected place, the humorous dialogue. Witty quips such as “We are now up against live, hostile targets. So, if Little Red Riding Hood should show up with a bazooka and a bad attitude, I expect you to chin the bitch” have the audience cracking up, but rather than linger in the comedy Marshall exploits the fact that our guard is down and uses the settled mood to throw in unexpected lashes of gore and frights, shaking the expectations of the audience. Dog Soldiers both mopped the floor with many creature features and created the blueprints for many werewolf films to come.
7. Kill List (Directed by Ben Wheatley, 2011)
Jay (Neil Maskell) and Gal (Michael Smiley) served together in the forces, creating a strong bond. Eight months have passed since they left an unspecified disastrous assignment, leaving Jay mentally scarred, making him unable to work. After an argument between Jay and his wife Shel (MyAnna Buring) over money worries he joins Gal in a contracted job to kill a list of people.
Ben Wheatley over the years has created some true standout British horror’s including Sightseers (2012) and A Field in England (2013), and most recently In the Earth (2021). Kill List unveils Wheatley’s naturalistic filmmaking methods in a remarkably raw manner that inflames a deep level of disturbance amongst the viewer, guaranteeing a hold over them for long after watching. Joining his fervent displays of provocation are the award worthy performances from Michael Smiley, MyAnna Buring, and Neil Maskell who all bring such ferocity and realness to their characters that it’s nearly impossible to tell that they’re actors and not the actual people they are portraying.
Kill List somehow goes both full throttle and gentle within its storytelling, with the subtle elements of something darker lurking amidst the surface, whilst also pushing frenzied chaos into the frame. This perplexing balance is even more advanced by the unpredictability of Jay and Gal’s actions, pronouncing the ambiguous nature of events and the slight art-house style that Wheatley adopts.
8. Prevenge (Directed by Alice Lowe, 2016)
Pregnant widow Ruth (Alice Lowe) loses her partner in an unfortunate climbing accident, leaving her alone. Shortly after, she begins to hear her baby talking, convincing Ruth to exact revenge on anyone involved in his death.
Alice Lowe’s directorial debut is an absolute shocker of a film. Prevenge is literal proof that budget constraints and the brackets of independent cinema are not blockades in creating a potent piece as Lowe hatches an audaciously somber and fruitfully macabre vision of a woman unhinged. There is not a single moment where we don’t align with Ruth. We have to listen to her and follow her every step, encouraging us to see the world through her damned perspective.
This creates an off-kilter atmosphere that fashions a normal-looking world, but with a surreal and untrustworthy ambiance, similar to British TV shows such as Green Wing and The IT Crowd. Prevenge is entirely impressive as it is, but what pushes the film’s intrinsic likeability even further into the atmosphere is the personable energy that the film emits. Lowe wrote, directed, and stars in this one-woman show, all whilst she was actually pregnant in real life. The level of dedication and the film’s success has to be owed entirely to her.
9. The Ritual (Directed by David Bruckner, 2017)
A tragedy strikes in a group of friends, leaving the bond disabonded. To rekindle their friendship the four of them set out on a hike through the rural Scandinavian wilderness, however, when a wrong turn ends them into ominous land, they must fight for survival.
The Ritual remains efficient, rich, and menacing– heeding onto the complexities of trauma and the threat of expelling one’s grief inwards, rather than seeking the comfort of shared loss. Boasting The Ritual’s emotional rhythm is David Bruckner’s ability to take elements of the source material (Adam Nevill’s 2011 novel of the same name) and manifest a story that alludes to Nevill’s rural atmospheric strengths, but with a surreal edge that transcends the barriers between the mind and the psychical body.
Due to this constant escalation of illusory texturization, the viewer can never decipher what the fates of the four will be. Immediately, when an isolated forest setting is disclosed an air of the ‘other’ forebodes the script, with many recalling the likes of The Blair Witch Project (1999) or The VVitch (2015) as an archetypal framework for The Ritual to base itself around. However, Bruckner dismisses the urge to be predictable or imitate previous works, opting for unfamiliar occurrences that have you questioning whether the sinister happenings are held within the fragile group’s mind or if something very real and very evil is actually at play.
10. Hellraiser ( Directed by Clive Barker, 1987)
Frank Cotton (Sean Chapman) opens a portal to hell after solving a puzzle box, unleashing sadomasochistic beings called Cenobites, led by their leader Pinhead (Doug Bradley) who tears Frank’s body to shreds. Frank’s brother Larry (Andrew Robinson) and his wife Julia (Clare Higgins) have a strained relationship, which led to Julia having a secret affair with Frank before his death. To rekindle their estranged relationship the pair move into Frank’s old house, where a skinless Frank is accidentally resurrected, who convinces Julia to lure men back to the house for him to drain.
Director Clive Barker originally was a writer, having written the screenplays for Underworld (1985) and Rawhead Rex (1986), however, he was rather unhappy with the final execution of his developed work, leading him to direct the film adaptation of his novella The Hellbound Heart (1986). Immediately, Barker knew that he wanted to create a piece dosed in creative eccentricity and a horror betrothed to the atmosphere and cutting edge originality. Considering the fact that the film developed into an entire franchise, it’s assured that Barker’s goal of a successful adaptation was achieved.
Hellraiser’s moral compass is enriched with a dreamlike quality, resulting in dark sequences of death and destruction, and whilst the overall effect is beyond alluring, the primary source of the film’s seduction is due to the cruel unearthly creatures donning sharp exteriors and bondage-like clothing. The genealogy of the Cenobites has been diagnosed as ‘religious based’, with them deriving from a religious sect in the underworld known as the ‘Order of the Gash’ where their evolution has made them unable to differentiate pleasure and pain. Pinhead and his followers’ existence transport the film into a higher level of transgressiveness, allowing for the viewer to become blinded and lost within the utter absurd nature of Barker’s vision.
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The whimsical Ellie (Thomasin McKenzie), heads to the bright city of London to attend a prestigious fashion college, but her doe-eyed innocence is soon interrupted when she discovers an ability to slip back in time to the swinging sixties where she witnesses the life of wannabe starlet Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy), who dangerously falls under club manager, Jack’s (Matt Smith) spell.
Dancing in neon bravado and swaying throughout time to paint a daunting picture varnished with chilling fates and show-stopping performances is Edgar Wright’s Last Night In Soho. It seems that the promise of the film’s release has been held over our heads for years, with its premiere being repeatedly delayed. Luckily enough the wait was certainly worth it as the film upholds every promise that was made in the dazzling trailer.
Wright is no stranger to cult fandom, especially with Hot Fuzzand Shaun of the Dead floating in his seemingly endless filmography. Joining his talents is co-writer Krysty Wilson-Cairns, who deservedly garnered copious praise for her screenplay of Academy Award winner 1917. Together their collaboration of this riveting descent into imaginative violence is a force to be reckoned with and certainly a film to remember.
With all the praise comes a truthful reality, Last Night in Soho is difficult. There’s no denying that the amalgamation of genres, which range from musicals to neo-noir comes with an inescapable level of chaos. The melancholic swells of drama echo throughout just as much as the shadowy thriller aesthetics. The whirlwind of vibes is what allows the film to be utterly mesmerizing and rather impressionable as a modern triumph in the horror genre. The clear inspiration from horror icons such as Alfred Hitchcock and Mario Bava is clear, but rather than simply manufacturing a carbon copy of what is already out there, we get to witness a new and exciting approach.
In an episode of the podcast ‘Post Mortem with Mick Garris‘, Wright confessed to being engrossed by the culture of 1960s London after finding his parents’ record collection, mainly consisting of The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, and Simon and Garfunkel. His perception of the time was formed through listening to these songs and admiring the vinyl covers, creating an almost romanticised dream-like interpretation of such a culturally significant time. In essence, Last Night in Soho is not too dissimilar from walking through a museum, immersing yourself in a time that is long gone. With each scene comes a barrage of songs that will ring familiar to nearly everyone, including Cilla Black’s ‘You’re My World’ and a haunting cover of ‘Downtown’ performed by Taylor-Joy.
The film has this air of nostalgia from a time that viewers may not have ever experienced. Wright regenerates what we know as modern horror, forgoing the now archetypal film path in favour of enveloping late 1960s/early 1970s culture into the frame.
Last Night in Soho melts together Giallo influences alongside an eerie supernatural tale that creates a backbone so dense, that it makes the film almost hypnotic and impossible to forget. Giallo cinema has long been upheld on a pedestal within genre cinema, thanks to its innate ability to force the viewer to the edge of their seat, with aspects such as stark lighting, hyper-stylization, and graphic violence that plunges itself to the forefront of the narrative. In a commemorative ode to this, we get to see a type of format-based relationship that is common to Giallo cinema; an equal push-and-pull with both the story and the auditory/visual cues. Last Night in Soho liberally uses films such as The Bird with the Crystal Plumage as inspiration to conjure a blend of cathartic mystery, alongside a fully fleshed out story.
The film’s rapid success is also owed to the immense performances by Mckenzie, Taylor-Joy, and Smith. McKenzie is a powerhouse who manages to build a character so vulnerable and feeble that gradually becomes ferocious in her motivations, whilst Taylor- Joy perfectly achieves a lost tormented soul whose troubles have made her both fragile and strong at the same time. One of the most surprising character developments takes place in Jack. Jack takes his form as the ‘teddyboy’ manager who could have easily been written as a typical sleaze whose creepiness is just a regurgitated version of every other predatory character that’s already out there. Alternatively, Wright and Wilson-Cairns elaborate and create a brutally narcissistic character who truly reeks of pure evil.
Last Night in Soho is rich and disturbing, with a designated aim for making the viewer a pawn in a horrific tale of mistrust, vulnerability, and corruption.
This weeks article comes via Grace from Film Overload, you can check out more of her work here.
