Daisy Ridley stuns in this beautiful, horrific road trip.
There are few horror sub-genres quite as explored as the zombie film. Thus it is remarkable when a filmmaker finds an inroad to explore the genre with fresh eyes. And yet Australian filmmaker Zak Hilditch’s We Bury the Dead, which premiered at SXSW, has immediately set itself in the canon of great zombie films. Not only does it find angles into the undead as a metaphor for the pangs of grief, but also creates one of the most beautiful zombie movies ever made.
After a freak weapons accident, the island of Tasmania has been completely wiped of all life. A massive undertaking has begun to clear out the remains, requiring volunteers from around the world.
One of these volunteers is Ava (Daisy Ridley), an American whose husband happened to be on the island for a work conference when the bomb went off. There is of course one complication: some of the victims of the bomb don’t seem to be staying dead. Thus Ava is not only there to find her husband, but perhaps to find him, hope against hope, to still be alive.
Thus we see Ava go on a road trip through the beautiful Australian island countryside, surrounded by landmarks of death and lives suddenly ended. These sketches of lives suddenly ended underline the central crux of the movie, how grief can be the aftermath of lives cut suddenly short. Ava’s grief is not just for her husband, but for the life they could have had ahead of them.
The film’s aesthetics highlight this delicate balance, how grief can be a mixture of pain but also reflective beauty. Put bluntly, We Bury the Dead looks amazing, cast in golden light that highlights the beauty of Hilditch’s homeland. But the dead litter the ground, allowing reality to crash back in.
The zombies themselves are horrifically beautiful as well. Their skin are a decaying purplish gray, and their yellowed teeth grind together the longer they remain alive. You see, the longer the dead remain alive, the more agitated they become. And unlike other zombies, there is something behind their eyes. There is a glimmer of their soul still there, which makes the task of having to put them back down stickier.
The film relies on a relatively small cast. Ava is joined by Clay (Brenton Thwaites,) a free-spirited member of the body clearing unit who seems less bothered by all the carnage. And later they find Riley (Mark Cole Smith,) a Tasmanian local who was off the island when the bomb went off, working through his own grief in less orthodox ways.
But it is Ridley who serves as the anchor of the film. In every scene, she journeys through an odyssey of emotions, carrying with her Ava’s profound need for closure, uncertain what will be waiting for her at the end. By turns grotesque and awe-inspiring, Ava’s journey deeper and deeper into her grief really solidifies this as her story. And Ridley’s performance once again proves why she is one of the most exciting actresses today.
