Reviving “Shaun of the Dead”

As we all know from movies as varied as Dracula and Twilight, vampires can be sexy. Zombies, though, not so much. A zombie apocalypse means a large (and growing) contingent of slobbering undead humanoids staggering through the streets, on the trail of human victims who are fated (once bitten) to turn into zombies themselves. Yuck! 

 I’ve learned that the concept of a zombie developed out of Haitian folklore, involving the resurrection of dead souls. The word “zombie,” adapted from African languages, entered English in 1819, via poet Robert Southey’s history of Brazil. But our current obsession with zombies can be credited mostly to filmmaker George A. Romero, whose spooky 1954 low-budget horror flick, Night of the Living Dead, was followed by two equally popular sequels. Michael Jackson helped too: in his 1983 music video, “Thriller,” ghoulish creatures rise from their graves and foot-drag down the sidewalk in pursuit of potential victims.

 Clearly, zombies are not a lot of fun. Except when it comes to an unlikely zombie comedy that borrows the title of Romero’s second film, Dawn of the Dead. In that 1978 drama, zombies take over an all-American suburban shopping mall, with bloody results. In 2004, director Zack Snyder came up with a Dawn of the Dead remake: he assembled an all-star cast (Sarah Polley, Ving Rhames, Ty Burrell) as mall clerks and shoppers fending off the inevitable carnage. That same year brought a British film that gave “stiff upper lip” a new meaning. Comic writer/performers Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg set their story in the Crouch End section of London. In their telling, vividly directed by Wight, the zombie apocalypse challenges the laid-back lifestyle of two slackers (vividly played by Pegg and comedian Nick Frost) who are mostly oblivious to the world around them. Belatedly getting their cues from a newsreader on their big-screen TV, they try staving off the marauders by flinging disks from their record collection (like, for instance, the Batman soundtrack), but discover that a cricket bat works better. Still, while Shaun discovers in himself some unexpected leadership qualities, the easily distracted Ed keeps ducking out to eat ice cream and play video games. Eventually a cluster of survivors ends up inside Shaun and Ed’s favorite pub, with zombies trying to break down the windows.

 Though it’s impossible to take any of the above too seriously, there’s still some real pathos in Shaun’s valiant attempts to protect his ex-girlfriend (who eventually finds new respect for this doofus) and his mother (who does her best to accept some dramatic changes in her comfortable life). I’ve read that none other than Helen Mirren was offered the mother’s rather surprisingly poignant role, though she turned it down; veteran actress Penelope Wilton (of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel) is a fine substitute. But perhaps the single most vivid performance is turned in by the always memorable Bill Nighy, who plays Shaun’s stepdad. At first he’s a grouchy middle-class type, proud of his Jaguar and carpingly critical of his stepson. But as the supernatural invaders close in, his deeply-felt apology to Shaun is touching . . . and then, well, Nighy is singularly creepy when he’s undead.

  I won’t spoil any more of the plot. But it’s worth noting that George Romero—Mr. Zombie himself—was delighted by Shaun of the Dead, to the point that he offered Wright and Pegg roles in his 2005 Land of the Dead. Both turned down the parts he had reserved for them and insisted on appearing as zombies, among hordes of others. They wanted, I’m guessing, to know how the other half “lives.”