Film Review: We Bury the Dead (2025) - Australia / USA
Reviewed by Andrew Chan (Film Critic Circle of Australia)
I rated it 6.5/10
Support our reviews by buying from official DVDs / Blu Rays at NeoFilmShop.com
Grief Walks Among the Undead - Australian director Zak Hilditch’s “We Bury the Dead” arrives not with the gnashing frenzy of a Romero rampage, but with the heavy, deliberate tread of a mourner carrying an impossible burden. This is a zombie film stripped of much of its inherent pulp, draped instead in the sodden cloak of grief and set against the stark, unforgiving beauty of a Tasmanian apocalypse. It’s a film that often feels like it’s holding its breath, building dread through atmosphere rather than jump scares, and while it occasionally stumbles over its own ambitions, it offers a haunting, visually arresting experience anchored by a performance of raw power from Daisy Ridley.
The premise is deceptively simple, a familiar chord struck with a melancholic timbre. Following a catastrophic U.S. military experiment (the details wisely kept sparse, a background radiation of folly), Ava (Ridley) joins a grim military unit tasked with retrieving bodies from a vast quarantine zone. Her motive isn't duty or survival, but a desperate, clawing hope: her husband is missing. What she finds, however, defies simple horror. The dead aren't just rising; they are evolving, becoming faster, smarter, and terrifyingly violent. Hilditch’s key deviation – the notion that reanimation is fueled by the deceased’s "unfinished business" – is more than a gimmick. It’s the film’s bruised, beating heart, transforming the undead from mere monsters into tragic, furious echoes of lives violently interrupted, their resurrection a grotesque mirror to Ava’s own unresolved anguish.
What elevates “We Bury the Dead” above the shambling horde is its commitment to this atmosphere of profound sorrow. Hilditch crafts a world visually drenched in despair. Cinematographer Steve Annis paints Tasmania not as a picturesque wilderness, but as a charnel house landscape: mass graves yawn like open wounds, deserted towns stand as skeletal monuments, and smoke perpetually stains the horizon. The practical effects work on the "radiated" undead is exceptional – less decayed ghouls, more horrifically beautiful, twisted sculptures of flesh and bone, moving with a predatory grace that chills the blood. This world feels poisoned, heavy, and irrevocably broken.
And walking through this desolation is Daisy Ridley’s Ava. This is Ridley unshackled from blockbuster constraints, delivering a performance of remarkable grit and vulnerability. She carries the film’s immense emotional weight not through grand speeches, but through the silent language of grief etched onto her face. Watch her in the quiet moments, scanning a ravaged landscape or simply sitting in the gloom of a transport vehicle; her eyes hold a universe of desperation, fear, and love. It’s a career-best turn, raw and utterly compelling, making Ava’s journey the undeniable spine of the film. The character is perfectly juxtaposed by Australian actor Brenton Thwaites, whose free spirited approach rhymes well with the more tensed up sequences.
Yet, for all its strengths, “We Bury the Dead” wrestles with its own identity. The film’s deliberate, "slow burn" pacing, so effective in building dread, occasionally dips into the "languorous," testing patience as the 90-minute runtime paradoxically feels longer. More jarring is the tonal imbalance. Just as the film settles into a profound, almost philosophical groove about grief and unfinished business, it often swerves abruptly back into familiar horror territory – a sudden burst of gore, a chase sequence – disrupting the carefully cultivated mood. This structural lopsidedness prevents the film from achieving the seamless, elevated horror it clearly aspires to.
So, does “We Bury the Dead” ultimately succeed? Yes, but with significant caveats. Its focus on healing over headshots, on the emotional resonance of the undead rather than just their threat, is genuinely "thought-provoking." It doesn’t reinvent the decaying wheel of the zombie genre, but it carves a distinct, sorrowful niche within it. “We Bury the Dead” offers a rewarding, deeply felt, if ultimately flawed, journey into the heart of darkness – a darkness lit by the flickering torch of human grief. It lingers, like the memory of loss, long after the credits roll. (Neo, 2025)