All of Us are Dead

ALL OF US ARE DEAD

Directors - J.Q. Lee & Kim Nam-Soo

Screenwriter - Seong-il Cheon

series 1, 2022, South Korea

 

 

Another zombie splurge, I thought, which is just my thing so let’s see how long I last. There have been a few series where I have bailed out after a few episodes. I like to stick to things to the end – after all, ‘American Vandal’ only proved its depth given time, for example – but when you’re dealing with a series, there’s only so much time you have.

 

But the first scene in ‘All of us are Dead’ – the South Korean High School Zombie epic – had a long take that suddenly zipped away from the intimacy of bullying on the school rooftop and circled round before diving up close again. Then a Bible is brandished, which made me giggle at its feint at a possession possibility before it’s used to pummelling-by-silhouette.* Later, there was another long take where a teacher attacks and bites a student and then the camera stays on the student as he turns into a zombie (blood spurts from his cheek) and then he gets up to attack his peers. And then the camera pulls out of window, seemingly through the glass. Long takes and trick shots, as if Iñárritu was slumming it by directing a zombie show. But these moments are what I am a sucker for, and I realised that, no matter how standard the drama, I am going to be compelled to watch more to see what they do each episode.

 

And then episode two is off and running with a startlingly choreographed zombie assault on the canteen. A mixture of hand-held and drone camera. It is breathless stuff and feels a full meal and cinematic rather than TV. Of course, that’s not such a surprise in this Golden Era of Television where the lines are blurred – the ‘Daredevil’ series had a few long-take fight scenes, for example – but it doesn’t feel hampered by television dramatics like, say, ‘The Walking Dead’ and its imitators. That’s because the action is brilliantly choreographed and feels as orchestrated as those of, say, ‘The Raid’; let’s say it’s no accident that ‘Train to Busan’ is namechecked. Perhaps a suitable comparison is the organised crime series ‘Gangs of London’, with its thrillingly composed fight scenes.

 

With episode three of ‘All of us are Dead’, it’s time for things to slow down for some character development and conflict.  This also means that things suffer from the Stupidity Of Characters, which may leave you scowling (Really: it’s time for the love triangle right now? & Snap out of it! & Just put him in the other room! etc) Mostly, this involves Queen Bitch against the group and loss of friends, the former designed to get the blood boiling and the latter fair enough in a zombie scenario.

 

One of the dominant themes throughout is that of bullying. Certainly, films like ‘Last Child’, ‘Pluto’ and ‘King of Pigs’ present Korean schools as hellholes of bullying and abuse. Here, the feelings of persecution and fear a teen may feel about his/her peers are fully justified by the zombie epidemic. A disgraced scientist father reacts badly to his son’s bullying and when his lab mouse bites a student and unleashes the epidemic, his nihilism and disgust at humanities’ cruelty comes full force. And then, of course, there is the school trying to cover up that bullying and the abduction of a student by a teacher to save face. There’s also teen pregnancy and a group of politicians to take us outside while our main group of teens are trapped in one classroom.

 

Episode 4 continues this but also spends time with a subject which is often neglected and often challenges my suspension of belief with films and TV: they discuss the problem of toilets and how it will work for the group. This even deserves its own montage and wins points for addressing this often unaddressed reality (I am often left thinking “But what about going to the toilet?” in a film as much as “Yeah, they wouldn’t get up from that.”). Then the action picks up elsewhere with a run for the rooftop with the politician’s group whilst the chief concern admirably leaves our teens in one room working out what to do. There’s also a policeman running about the city and some arrow-shooting teens also scrambling about the campus.

 

And with episode 5, we’re back to less questionable character behaviour. There’s an excellent library confrontation, but the showy long takes have been abandoned. The pace is impressively swift again, with all the subplots getting their moments. Now it’s got rid of the Queen Bitch student, there’s no recourse to cheap confrontation to keep things going, which is refreshing. This main group of teens is just trying to work things out and they are a solid bunch of characters. I appreciate the emphasis being upon their bonding in a time of need rather than incessant bickering.

 

Episode 6 starts with a montage of all the subplots and promises a swift pace. But it’s mostly a filler, shoving along these subplots with further nuance. The zombies are evolving (“hambies”), our teens risk their lives from one room to another, our policemen almost but don’t get far. It ends with the teens making video blubs with the school camera, but that seems appropriate.

 

So by this stage in the series, it is obvious that the bravura flourishes of the first two episodes have given way to more standard aesthetic. It is twelve episodes long, and a lull in the midsection is perhaps expected. This is why ‘Squid Game’ being nine episodes long was an indication that it was wisely as long as it wanted and needed to be, with little padding. Even so, ‘All of Us are Dead’ had won enough good will with me initially and established enough subplots to keep things lively. The hallway fights and fleeing from one place to another are all thrilling, with the battle in the gym a late-stage highlight. Every time the teen troubles threaten to drag, one of the subplots kicks in to keep interest and throw in some action. At least until the end. And I like the more realistic dilemma of being trapped in one place for a while; that on more than one occasion characters make a dash for it but have to run back. So they don’t discuss toilet arrangements on the rooftop, but the show has at least nodded to those real problems.

 

What is also impressive is the sense of widespread desolation within a limited scope, especially in the penultimate episode. The undead bullies keep coming; the army wavers between uselessness and overreaction; a father braves the situation solo to save his daughter. You’ll probably be inclined to shout at the characters to do something/don’t do that/why’re you just standing there emoting?? as dramatics occasionally overtake the narrative.

 

So it doesn’t match the promise of its opening, but ‘All of Us are Dead’ remains entertaining throughout, and you might even find yourself caring about some of the kids. And the series doesn't skimp on casualties, and even musters up investment in many. Certainly, a cut above average even if doesn’t achieve distinction.

Don't Look Up

Director – Adam McKay

Writers – Adam McKay(screenplay by), David Sirota(story by)

2021 - USA

Stars – Leonardo DiCaprio, Jennifer Lawrence, Meryl Streep

Current American MSM perniciousness and shallowness will be an extinction event.

Falls somewhere between Mike Judges’ ‘Idiocracy’ and McKay’s own ‘The Big Short’. Takes the guise of a hip screwball celebrity ensemble satire. A couple of university astronomers discover an asteroid aiming for Earth to wipe everything. However, American mainstream culture is ill-equipped to deal with this for its narcissism, short attention-span, greed, stupidity, political opportunism and vapidness. There’s enough here that upset the right Rightish people, but it is also preaching to the choir: its targets are so obvious that it’s never going to convert anyone. Mostly it’s just nodding along. And anyway, nothing will or can match the cartoonish mayhem and abhorrence of the source material. That is: it’s reflective rather than predictive. 

And mostly the human race goes to hell due to idiocy and self-interest, which means that the full reality and extent of behind-the-scenes nefariousness and manipulation is never addressed. There’s no Murdoch here, or a Roy family, which is surely a gaping lacuna, and an angle McKay is fully aware of having directed ‘Succession’.  

Of the cast, Mark Rylance strikes a chord the most with his almost android-like portrayal of a tech mogul that scuppers mankind’s last hope because he sees a money-making opportunity – probably thinking he’s too big to fail. The most surprising moment is when he’s called out by Dr Mindy (Di Caprio) and his demeanour turns on a dime into threatening without missing a beat. 

There are, of course, a few years’ worth of real world source material for ‘Don’t Look Up’ to draw from, from climate change denial to COVID response. Neil Morris summaries, “as the most risible responses to the virus outbreak become commonplace and normalized, sometimes it takes sardonic, albeit unnuanced allegory to snap us back to reality.” It’s not a reality snapping allegory but a distillation of the cultural problems that have made proper, clear responses to these apocalyptic threats possible. Chris Betram puts ‘Don’t Look Up’ as a ‘Dr Strangelove’ redux:

“Obviously satire, obviously really about our inability to act against climate change, but also about the comical inability of the United States to play the role it has arrogated to itself.” 

But it doesn’t feel quite as sharp beneath its broadness, never quite pulling out the insightful farce it wants to be. Yet it’s swipes about vacuous celebrity culture stymieing the media’s ability to discuss serious discussion hit home, as well as the fickleness and aggressive denialism of cultists and culture, etc. So it is far from subtle but, despite missing the mechanisations of deliberate aggressors, ‘Don’t Look Up’ gathers up enough principle ingredients and heavy-weight actors to be an interesting and entertaining commentary on the zeitgeist.