ONE CUT OF THE DEAD: Zombies Bite Back On Blu-Ray

Directly or indirectly, zombies have been one of cinema’s favourite creatures since the earliest days, kicking off with the dead-eyed voodoo creepers from 1932’s White Zombie (now a popular public domain title). After the massive boom of the early naughts, which saw The Walking Dead, Shaun of the Dead and a ton of other movies, TV Shows and pop culture paraphernalia infested by zombie mythology, the genre has definitely decelerated.

It was bound to happen (just look at the state of vampire films in the wake of their short-lived Twilight-inspired revitalisation), as everything received the zombie treatment; rom-coms, found footage and even Disney Channel original movies, so there was an air of caution when I heard the premise for Shinichirou Ueda’s micro-budget hit One Cut of the Dead (as even using a “of the Dead” title seems dated at this point). Thankfully, this inventive comedy isn’t interested in making another amateur zombie film – its characters are – but rather it’s more focused on the people who make them, told through a dynamic blend of Living in Oblivion and Diary of the Dead.

One Cut of the Dead has now made its home media debut thanks to the wonderful folks at Third Window Films. The UK distributors (who recently made the news when a bootlegged version of this film was leaked onto Amazon Prime) have made their first 2019 release a definitive example of the terrific work these boutique labels are accomplishing. In the days where big studios have stopped bothering with giving their titles any substantial special features, releases like this are not only appreciated, but feel important in keeping the necessity of physical media alive.

Alongside a first-rate high definition transfer, this new Blu-ray comes loaded with over two hours of worthwhile special features – including an incredibly candid behind the scenes featurette, which adds another hilarious meta-layer to this nesting doll of a horror-comedy.

Zombies

The film opens in the way we expect from its rudimentary title; a goofy, no frills found footage affair about the crew of an independent zombie movie who, in an ironic twist, are attacked by the actual walking dead. Narratively, it presents nothing new (the main actress goes from shy to savage and the aggressive director tries to capture the developing chaos for its authenticity), but what is immediately impressive is that it’s captured in one 40-minute take, taking us from the initial outbreak to the inevitable final girl moment of blood-splattering triumph.

Then the credits start – “but surely this can’t be it?” any reasonable audience member would ask, but this is when the film really begins – we cut back to several months earlier and it switches from found footage to a conventional look whilst we learn how the one-take wonder we just watched came to be. Ambitious commercial director Higurashi (a star-making debut performance from Takayuki Hamatsu) is tapped by a developing horror TV channel (think SyFy or Starz) to orchestrate a single take zombie film that will be aired live, which is obviously no easy task for even the most seasoned professional.

Just looking at the recent Netflix series of Maniac and Daredevil or even David Gordon Green’s new Halloween entry tells us that one-take scenes are the hip new cinematic gimmick now, taking over from the excessive and often-ponderous use of drone footage, similar to how zombies overthrew vampires as the go-to genre icons of modern pop culture.

With the help of his supportive wife Nao (Harumi Shuhama), Higurashi sets out to make the best film he can, navigating problems of melodramatic actors, flirting co-stars, indisposed crew members and the general anxiety of perfecting every story beat before the big day arrives. This middle section might seem mildly didactic and slower compared to its surrounding acts, but it’s necessary in setting up the genius finale, which sees the first 40-minutes re-examined from the other side of the camera, revealing what really went down behind the scenes.

Ueda takes the cliches of the genres on which he draws on and enthusiastically has fun with them, utilising them rather than parodying or moderating them down into another self-aware pastiche that a high-concept premise like this could’ve easily become. Over and over again he draws upon our collective cinematic memory of the zombie genre, as those well versed in these types of films will find great pleasure in how his screenplay touches upon every recognisable trope without irony: the final girl, the reluctance to say the word “zombie”, in-fighting within the dysfunctional survivors group, the reluctance to kill ‘turned’ loved ones and even the speculation as to what caused the initial uprising (the excuse this time is imagined to be a cursed power plant).

As the surprises of the film’s second half reveal themselves, it becomes an incredibly fun ride, balancing a slapstick comedy about a film production gone wrong alongside a multitude of clever payoffs to every story beat/character choice we witnessed in the beginning. It’s quite the fete to be repeatedly impressed by two halves of a film that are so aesthetically and narratively opposed, but also compliment each other so perfectly – this is totally a movie that demands an immediate re-watch once finished.

Despite these elements, the film never winks at the audience or tries to denounce the difficult nature of low budget horror filmmaking, rather the opposite, this is an encouraging, feel good celebration of the hard work that goes into making any film, big or small, a tribute to independent artists who fight tooth and nail against every limitation to bring new art into the world. This is a struggle that I imagine, in another meta twist, Ueda must’ve gone through to make One Cut of the Dead, and luckily as we can see, it was well worth the effort.

The Blu-Ray

Arriving in a limited edition 2-disc Blu-ray set, Third Window Film’s transfer of One Cut of the Dead boasts an impressive 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 encode, the digital film’s HD presentation bringing life to its colourfully vibrant cinematography, from the striking yellows of Takayuki Hamatsu’s Hawaiian t-shirts to the syrupy red blood that’s splashed upon them. Despite the film’s micro budget, the technical wizardry of the opening long-take transcends it’s oversaturation and mild digital blur, an aesthetic that disappears once the second act kicks in. In short, this is the definitive way of watching this movie – accept no pirated substitutes.

On the second disc, Third Window Films has provided an impressive array of extras which both contextualize and augment the watching experience, starting off with Shinichirou Ueda’s preceding short film Take 8. Take 8 appears to form the thematic foundations of what One Cut of the Dead would build upon, kicking off with a similarly frustrated film crew trying to shoot a key dramatic sequence regarding a bride and her absent father.

Like the self-reflexive turn of his feature, it turns out that the actress playing the bride is also dealing with a lousy father, who shows up on set begging for forgiveness, and due to the sheer coincidence of the actor playing her father no-showing, he’s forced to step in to act out two roles – her father on and off the screen. It lacks the joyful nature of his following feature, due to its strong focus on the melodramatic elements of the central father-daughter dynamic, but it clearly highlights Ueda’s interest in the parallels between on and off-screen drama, and how they naturally compliment each other – for the benefit of both the film and the actors within it.

The disc’s biggest and most essential supplement is the 45-minute behind the scenes documentary, Fresh X Amatuer X Reckless, a comprehensive look through each key pre-production and production step it took to make One Cut of the Dead happen. Kicking off in March 2017 with Ueda attempting (with not much luck) to pitch the film’s high concept nature to his assembled cast, the lengthy rehearsals (including some Shaun of the Dead-like lessons in how to play a zombie), into the actual exhausting shooting schedule, thanks to the anxious notion of not being able to make a single mistake during the opening unbroken take. What’s most striking about this candid archive is just how the positive team-building aspect of the non-professional cast and crew is comparable to their roles within the film, both giving it their all to make the best movie they can and as we can see from this package, really paid off.

Alongside these bonuses is a GoPro version of the opening long take that gives a fresh new aesthetic perspective to just how technically impressive it really is, a slew of outtakes that reflect the jovial nature of the cast and crew that was clearly reflected on screen and an informative 20-minute interview with the director Shinichirou Ueda, detailing the inception of the idea, his cinematic influences and what it took to pull it all off (extensively covered in the preceding BTS documentary).

Conclusion: One Cut of the Dead

In a time where two separate Pinocchio productions have been announced, it helps to have films like One Cut of the Dead remind us that even though some ideas might sound generic or overworked, it’s ultimately up to the execution. With just a measly sum of $27,000, Japanese filmmaker Shinichirou Ueda, in the eight days it took to write, shoot and edit this film, has shown more creativity and invention than most directors with 1,000 times the budget have ever exhibited in their entire careers (hello Paul W. S. Anderson) – to prove that despite its recent slump, the undead ain’t quite dead just yet.

Third Window Films’ Limited Edition 2-Disc Bluray set of One Cut of the Dead is due to be released in the UK January 28th, which is available from Amazon UK and the Arrow Video Store.