'We Bury The Dead' review: Daisy Ridley digs up regrets, unfinished business & zombies

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How do we put the mania in Tasmania? The obvious answer is, of course, dumb, weapons-obsessed Americans and also the undead to some extent. This is how we get to We Bury The Dead. The United States "accidentally" causes a lethal tragedy after one of their mass-destruction weapons goes off near the aforementioned Australian island. Some residents die, some become braindead but turn into zombies once they learn to walk and run again. Ava (Daisy Ridley) is an American physiotherapist who flies to Tasmania in order to volunteer for military-led clean-up duties, uncovering bodies and helping to eliminate zombies. Ava's also doing this because her husband Mitch (Matt Whelan) was on the island when the catastrophe occurred, so she's trying to find out what happened to him. Against orders, Ava and fellow volunteer Clay (Brenton Thwaites) join forces and travel on their own towards the place where Mitch was last seen.

Let's not bury the lede here because what we get is a pretty nifty and contemplative 90-minute zombie horror with plenty of haunting imagery. As soon as we arrive in the land down under alongside Ava, writer-director Zak Hilditch is able to create a compelling mood and an impressive sense of scale for a project that presumably had a fairly modest budget. It punches above its weight class consistently. Cinematographer Steve Annis captures the melancholy with a deft use of light and shadow, but he also protects the intimacy by trusting the actors' eyes and facial expressions to convey the emotion. Combine this with Clayton Jauncey's production design, surprisingly splendid VFX (aside from one distracting shot that is fully CG), nasty FX makeup and composer Clark's vocal-heavy score, and the world-building becomes the film's strong suit. "WBTD" is rather terrific when it's a solemn mission movie that focuses on mundanity.

What's somewhat disappointing is that in addition to being a technically capable artist, Hilditch is also yet another filmmaker who thinks—unconsciously or consciously—that they can solve grief, loss and every other buzzy issue after a therapy session or two. In terms of characterisation, the exploration of grief and emotional resonance, WBTD is mediocre at best and dull at worst, unlike the craft on display. Considering where horror is as a genre right now and how we got here, you don't have the luxury of doing a half-arsed job and deliver generic sentiments that put viewers to sleep. As a writer, Hilditch didn't find an angle that is unique enough, and therefore you're not properly invested in these characters' journeys. By good fortune, the creatives did realise that the movie has to work both as a horror and as a piece of audiovisual storytelling, and you can't just rely on your themes. Mission accomplished.

Now, this could've turned out much worse if you didn't have an actor like Ridley as the foundation, or reliable supporting players like Thwaites or Mark Coles Smith (as Riley, a soldier Ava and Clay meet) who can go toe-to-toe with her when needed. Their character arcs may be half-baked, but the performances are not. And did I already mention that you'll be in and out in 90 minutes or so? Grab a flair, grab a travel buddy, steal a motorcycle with them and drive into this darkness. Good luck, do not die.

Smileys: Cinematography, atmosphere

Frowneys: Characterisation

Someone keeps terrorising Tasmanian bars with prank calls. They call him Hobart Simpson.

3.0/5

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