Shaun of the Dead

Rule of Three is a podcast presented by Jason Hazeley and Joel Morris, two comedy writers that have written with Charlie Brooker, David Mitchell and Robert Webb. Their names are probably in your Christmas too, since they’re the co-writers of the Ladybird books for adults - brilliant stocking fillers. I love their show and listen every week. It’s show and tell for adults where a comic writer comes in and shares their favourite comedy with the hosts. By listening to the podcast I’ve finally got around to watching Father Ted, Monty Python's Life of Brian and Airplane; it’s also inspired me to re-visit old favourites: The Royle Family, Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace - and this week, Shaun of the Dead.

A great podcast.

Comedian Tom Neenan makes the case to the boys that Shaun of the Dead deserves a retrospective. Achieving the ubiquity of constant ITV 2 rotation, it’s easy to take it for granted. Neenan really knows his stuff when it comes to Shaun and the sitcom that preceded it, Spaced, so much so by the end I felt there was no alternative but to go back and have another look.


The bones of the zombie movie lie in a Spaced episode ‘Art’ where Simon Pegg’s character Tim hallucinates his game into reality. His living room has become Resident Evil. Surrounded by zombies, he must remove the prefix from the undead. His flatmate Daisy enters, startling him. Throwing his body, he turns his controller on her, shouting, ‘Don’t sneak up on me like that!’ Unperturbed, Daisy asks: ‘Want a cup of tea?’ From tense horror to comic normalcy an idea was born.

Tim playing Resident Evil Pic. Channel 4

From listening to Neenan, I found out what an important project Shaun was for director and co-writer Edgar Wright. So passionate was Wright to work on it he turned down the opportunity to work on Dr Who's BBC1 reboot. Despite the sitcom Spaced being a huge success and having filmic production, this was his first feature. He and Pegg were massive movie fans – obvious to anyone who’s seen Spaced's homage meter – which made their move from television exciting and daunting.


The majesty of the film lies in the planning process. Neenan informs us that Pegg and Wright were methodical and meticulous in their plotting. As though performing a heist, the two talked through possible routes and permutations, finessing and honing their plan. The resulting script is really something. Being an English teacher, I’m in thrall to words, words, words, yet I know structure is what they rest on. Without its silent partner, language is just a load of hot air. There’s a reason why Oscar Wilde is quoted more than he’s read - and that my friends is structure. He has the talk, but not the trousers.


Shaun of the Dead is a play on George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead, where survivors of a zombie attack hole themselves up in a shopping mall. This being a British picture our story commences in a pub, The Winchester, which we’ll return to at the end of the movie. A portent for things to come is revealed early with the opening scene of barroom quarrel segueing into town life: shopping trolleys are pulled, checkout items scanned, phones pulled in unison, a football kept up. The zombification of British life is performed in front of us. Romero’s film was a satire on the consumerism of 20^th century culture; this a wry critique on modern life. 

Soon after we’re in the living room, one of Shaun’s flatmates Ed is playing a video game. Shaun tells him he needs to reload. This is a piece of dialogue we’ll return to. Shaun is then returning from work; he bumps into Yvonne, an old friend/flame. She asks him how he’s doing; his reply: ‘Surviving.’ This is a piece of dialogue we’ll return to. Later, we’re back in Shaun’s home that his friend Pete presides over. Pete is pissed with how slovenly Ed is. Enraged, he screams, ‘If you want to live like an animal, go live in the shed!’ This is a piece of dialogue we’ll return too. So much of the opening twenty minutes is echoed in the final twenty. Whilst most comedy films feel like a collection of sketches, this has all the satisfying form of a Stewart Lee routine.


There are great set pieces though in this film, which deserve celebrating. The Cassetteboy-lite slicing and splicing of news footage is a far more interesting way of doing exposition. Further, the scene where Shaun and Ed confront a zombie in the garden makes you re-evaluate the term disposable music. Another garden is the perfect backdrop for a battle scene with a slide doubling for a periscope and a swing ball for a flail. Pegg and Wright really do have the inventiveness of great prop comics. Also, there’s the fight scene in the pub to Queen’s ‘Don’t Stop Me Now.’ This is the antecedent to Wright’s Baby Driver where the music neither scores nor underscores the action, but combines and dances with it.

Shaun of the Dead was the first in the Cornetto Trilogy, and like so many triptychs the first is the best. It has a pulsating soundtrack, quotable dialogue, directorial verve; more importantly though it is plotted like a motherfucker. I’m glad somebody made it.


Shaun of the Dead is available on Netflix - and probably ITV2.