DAWN OF THE DEAD
When I was asked to pick my favourite genre film of this century, I went through a lot of candidates and eventually ended up with a shortlist of four – all, unintentionally, zombie movies. So, what makes DAWN OF THE DEAD (2004) the one? Is it the fleshed-out characters we genuinely care about, the direction that balances lingering dread with explosive action, and the super-tight pacing that never wastes a shot? Or is it the brilliantly curated music choices – from Johnny Cash’s ominous “The Man Comes Around” to Disturbed’s darkly perfect “Down with the Sickness” bookending the film? Perhaps it’s the unflinching gore, showing every head explosion and chainsaw bite, from a hungry debut director who wants to reimagine a cult classic rather than remake it. The answer, for me, is all of the above – which is why I think of this as an “instant rewatch”: a film I can restart the moment the end credits finish and be just as hooked.
I first saw this film by myself in a UK cinema on release, and I’m glad I did. Though it absolutely works as a group watch, I always get the most out of it alone, fully engrossed. From the Universal logo through to the bleak reality of the final credits, it’s so tight you never want to look away.
Character development is exquisitely crafted through eye gestures, body language, and natural reactions to unnatural circumstances. From the moment Sarah Polley’s Ana and Ving Rhames’ Kenneth first meet with that simple “say something” challenge, through to Michael Kelly’s C.J. shifting from petty, power-hungry guard to reluctant leader in a handful of sharp, funny speeches, every interaction feels precise and earned. Jake Weber as Michael is the best I’ve seen him, giving the character real depth, emotion, and genuine care, and Mekhi Phifer brings a fantastic balance of caring husband and father-to-be, with a darker, unhinged side bubbling underneath.
As much as I’d love to write a full essay on how great this movie is, I’ll simply focus on the pre-title sequence. In those incredible opening ten minutes, we understand what is happening, who it’s happening to, the scale of the outbreak, and the sheer terror and ferocity of what’s unfolding. The way the zombie violence escalates as quickly as society crumbles tells us everything we need to know about this film’s direction. Characters such as Luis and young Vivian are delicately built and brutally destroyed in a heartbeat. Cars explode into gas stations. Ambulances plough through bystanders. Strangers turn on each other in the streets as we experience the apocalypse in all its unapologetic brutality alongside Ana’s emotional journey, powered by Polley’s phenomenal performance. As her car crashes into the tree and the birds fly, we realise we’ve just watched, quite simply, the finest opening sequence of any movie, genre or not.
In his debut feature, Zack Snyder respectfully brings in original cast cameos alongside practical FX royalty, showing clear love for the original masterpiece while crafting one of his own. It’s clear, even at this early stage, that he was going to be a director to watch.
Justin Hyne