Saturday, 29 August 2026

We Bury The Dead (Zak Hilditch, 2024)

Following a catastrophic disaster in Tasmania, its victims appear to have reanimated. Squads of volunteers are enlisted alongside the army to bury the dead, and terminate any of the reanimated corpses.


An American woman, Ava (Daisy Ridley), signs on to volunteer so she can find her husband (Matt Whelan), who was in Tasmania when the cataclysm happened.



The zombie genre has become so ubiquitous in the 21st century (partially thanks to the success of the TV series The Walking Dead), it is starting to become more of a setting than a genre. While the genre has always been durable, hybrids like the romantic comedy Warm Bodies and heist film Army of the Dead show the genre’s true elasticity.


While it features some familiar elements, We Bury The Dead is not a horror film - it barely qualifies as a thriller.


It lacks the sense of momentum, or any real set-pieces. 


Instead, it is a quiet, disturbing meditation on grief.


The film is a slow burn for most of the early action.


We follow Ava as she arrives in Australia and joins the burial units. 


Most of the living dead Ava encounters are wandering wraiths, who seem to register other humans but make no moves to attack. The undead grind their teeth but do not appear to be flesh-eaters - they are just aggressive flaying out the living. 


These initial appearances give Ava hope that her husband - even if he is dead - may have a path back to her.


The film turns into a quest narrative, as Ava’s journey takes her into new environments with new characters who force her to confront her motivations for finding her husband.


The most significant of these figures is a soldier, Riley (Mark Coles Smith), goes from being an obstacle (he threatens to bring her in) to a threat.


His story is an extreme mirror of Ava’s - he has Ava cosplay as his dead wife.


Their dance is intercut with Ava’s dance with her husband. As Riley bends down to listen to Ava’s belly, there is a flashback to her husband mirroring the same action.


This sequence turns into a variation on the Bluebeard story, as Ava discovers Riley’s wife’s corpse in a made-up shrine in a bedroom.


Riley advises her that the dead who come back have “unfinished business” - he believes their unborn child can still be born.


That theme of unfinished business is central to Ava’s journey.


Unusually quiet and un-rushed, We Bury The Dead lets its story play out with a respect for the viewer’s intelligence - letting a look, or a glimpse of some interesting element (a tattoo) provide clues, rather than spelling everything out.


When Ava’s husband left on his trip, the couple were in a moment of upheaval - an unstated heartbreak that intertwines both our and the character’s need for understanding and resolution.


Daisy Ridley is fine in the lead, but this film exemplifies an issue I have with a lot of movies that try to aim for the US market - actors affecting American accents. 


She stands out when everyone else is speaking with their own accents.


Brenton Thwaites is a welcome injection of energy as the more mercenary worker Ava is paired with.


More interesting than fully involving, We Bury The Dead feels like a dry run for something truly spectacular.


The human story is more interesting than the undead trappings, and it almost feels like it would work better with a slightly less tidy close (having an end title song also feels like a strange choice).


Still, worth a look.


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BITE-SIZED: Cinema of Unease - A Personal Journey by Sam Neill (Sam Neill and Judy Rymer, 1995)

 Made as part of the British Film Institute's celebration of a century of cinema, Cinema of Unease is a key part of Sam Neill's legacy.


I first watched this film in high school, a private Presbyterian institution with a few similarities to the college Sam Neill attended.


Neil’s thesis was one of my earliest introductions to an idea of what New Zealand cinema meant.


Threading his own life story with a portrait of his homeland, Neill creates the image of a nation with a superficial sense of self. 


As a child who had grown up overseas, enamoured with the glamour of Hollywood, and later the genre movies of other countries, my own film culture had struck me as dull. Ignorance, and the influence of the cultural shrug, had put me off NZ film.


But Neil’s film cracked it open for me - the idea of (pakeha) society wrestling with an environment, both real and psychological, that they were not indigenous to - became a catalyst. His concept of the cinema of unease captured my imagination, and motivated me to engage with the films of my own country.


Of course, two decades later, our ideas of a national cinema have matured since its initial release - but the underlying themes, of the ongoing conflicts over what Aotearoa's national identity is, and who gets to tell stories about it, remain as relevant as they did when Neill and Rymer's film was released.


Cinema of Unease remains a significant moment of reflection from one of our first real cinematic icons.


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OUT NOW: Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (Jane Schoenbrun, 2026)

Kris (Hannah Einbinder) is an upcoming filmmaker who has been hired to reboot the long-running Camp Miasma slasher franchise.


While she is suspicious that she has been hired because she is a queer filmmaker, Kris takes the gig. She has her own motive for taking the job: an opportunity to meet the franchise’s original final girl, Billy Presley (Gillian Anderson).


Visiting Billy at her home, which just so happens to be the site of the original film, Kris finds herself delving into her love of the franchise, and how it connects to her own sense of self.



Sometimes a film needs time to marinate to fully understand its meaning. And sometimes it takes time for you to realise the film’s meaning was never hidden, but exactly what you think it is.


When a movie goes fully into fantasy or blurs the lines, I tend to need a little grounding.


What I liked about this is that the emotional through line becomes that anchor - Chris’s obsession with this franchise boils down to deeper issues with sex and intimacy.


I loved the in-film history of Camp Miasma, with the early film posters inspired by Friday the 13th, followed by a DTV period, with high concept sequels (I want to know more about Miasma 3000!), and that level of detail helps to immerse the viewer in Chris’s state of mind.


The film connects our obsession with pop culture to our loss of connection with other people.


It also tackles the attraction to onscreen sex and death (the underlying impulses behind horror movies, James Bond and a host of other long-running series) but without any sense of condemnation. It takes the image of a woman running semi-nude while being chased by the killer and turns it into a moment of euphoria.


The film accomplishes this by making this dichotomy the vehicle for Chris’s own fear of intimacy and her own desires.


Despite her age, she is living an adult life completely disconnected from herself. This reboot project is almost a gateway back to her adolescence, and back to her own desires.


Chris has a partner (Scream star Jasmin Savoy Brown) and is part of a polygamous relationship, although that status appears to be something her partner is more into than she is (or something she herself endorses as a way to avoid intimacy).


Billy Presley, the star of the original slasher, becomes her guide through this process.


The film makes it clear she is not a famous person - she is barely a cult figure. The film makes it clear she is part of Chris’s singular fixation on the original film - in particular, a shot of Billy’s eye during the in-film movie’s sex scene.


The riddle of the actor’s feelings in this shot recurs throughout the film, as Chris is forced to delve into her own conflicted feelings about her body and pleasure


As the film begins to blur the line between what is real and reel, and Chris begins to act on her attraction to Billy, the film turns into a strangely poignant coming of age story. 


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Sexy, deadpan and loving of its genre without descending into pedantry, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma is a gem.

BITE-SIZED: The Wild Robot (Chris Sanders, 2024)

After being accidentally released on a remote island, service robot Roz (Lupita Nyong’o) finds a new purpose as the guardian of a runt gosling, Brightbill (Kit Connor), whose parent she accidentally killed.


As Brightbill grows up, and Roz grows beyond her assigned role, the robot has to contend with the fact she will have to let him go, so he can survive amongst his own kind.


And then her corporation re-enters the picture…



I do not generally watch movies aimed at kids, but I am always trying to expand the focus of this blog.


Written and directed by Chris Sanders, whose credits include Lilo & Stitch and How to Train Your Dragon, this is a lovely movie.


I love how vibrant the aesthetic is - apparently it was inspired by the colour palette of classic Disney. Meanwhile, Roz the robot’s rubbery physics approximate the looser movements of classic Warner animation, creating an aesthetic clash that works for Roz’s outsider status on the island.


The film’s focus on the robot’s body verges on body horror at points - the scene of the raccoons stealing her internal components - but it all feels closer to the anarchic spirit of Looney Tunes rather than Cronenberg.


The idea of a robot raising a wild animal is the hook, but what is impressive about The Wild Robot is how it uses this as a starting point for exploring notions of the struggle between programming and free will, parenthood, growing up, and overcoming differences.


When Brightbill finally takes off with the flock, and there were 40 mins left I was wondering what would happen next. The plot gets a little busy but the characters are so well-drawn, particularly Rozz and Brightbill, I could overlook this.


Related:


Nimona


The Sea Beast


The finale is a little too neat, considering the maturity of the film’s themes, but The Wild Robot remains a delight.

Friday, 21 August 2026

OUT NOW: Mutiny (Jean-Francois Richet, 2026)

After his boss and mentor is murdered, driver Cole (Jason Statham) follows the killers' trail to a container ship engaged in human trafficking.

As Cole and crew member Angie (Annabelle Wallis) attempt to rescue the ship's prisoners, they have to evade capture by the ship's ruthless crew and find some way to signal for help.


I was not the biggest fan of The Beekeeper, but I was excited that Jason Statham was back doing the kinds of films he is best at.


Mutiny might not rank as one of his best efforts, but it is kind of great. It is the kind of solid, unpretentious action programmer we do not get any more.


Directed by Jean-Francois Richet (Assault on Precinct 13, Bloodfather, Plane), Mutiny was initially intended as the follow-up to 2023's Plane, as either a spinoff for Mike Colter, or a sequel starring Butler. For whatever reason, those versions did not come to pass, and the project was re-conceived around Statham.


All to the good. 


The movie's set up is a little sweaty - it starts out as a man-on-the-run thriller, with Statham's Cole stowing away onboard the ship, before he stumbles on its cargo.


Once the pieces are in place, the film turns into a pleasingly violent riff on Die Hard, with our heroes clambering through the ship's maze of corridors and containers.


What sticks out about the film is how lo-fi it is. The ship is not exceptional - it boasts no secret rooms, or enhanced security systems. The filmmakers spend the runtime aboard the ship emphasising how much of an obstacle it is on its own terms. 


That focus on the central environment gives Mutiny a welcome sense of verisimilitude. Having Statham have to contend with a tactile environment, where danger can lurk around every corner, also gives the character a greater sense of vulnerability.


It also helps that his adversary, mercenary ship captain Captain Marko Madsen (Roland Møller), is not some placeholder. His final showdown with Statham is more of a dramatic back and forth (he knifes Statham and throws him off the boat). In another example of how the film makes use of the environment, with most of their fight taking place on a loose gangway swinging around off the side of the ship. 


The captain's grisly demise is the capper on a delightful series of gruesome ends - there is an inventiveness to the violence that feels out of a slasher movie (if you have ever pondered the lethality of a padlock, this movie has you covered).


Mutiny is at its best at sea. When the film heads back to land for the final wrap-up, it loses some of its special magic.


Still, this is a minor issue. Check it out.


Related:


Wildcard


Furious 7


Fate of the Furious


Operation Fortune


The Meg 2 - The Trench


The Beekeeper


A Working Man


If you are new to this blog, I also co-host a podcast on James Bond, The James Bond Cocktail Hour

You can subscribe on Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.


If you enjoy something I wrote, and want to support my writing, here’s a link for tips!