By Alison Enright
Illustrated by Jessica Chan
Shaun of the Dead gave me life.
The first time I saw Shaun of the Dead was from my mother’s womb. Repeated watches have solidified its greatness and its horror.
Best friends Shaun and Ed battle armies of numb-skulled zombies while navigating an even scarier prospect – that Ed is holding Shaun back from living a full life. A friendship is tested.
Skilful use of dramatic irony in the first half of the film displays this poignantly. Whether it’s scenes of zombies stumbling past Shaun getting a Cornetto or Ed fighting off zombies in video games, neither is connected enough to life to see what’s going on around them.
This Halloween, I can’t think of anything spookier than getting jump-scared by the undead and questioning whether I’m putting enough effort into life.
But finally, to truly convey the horror of this film, I need to take you back to 30 December 2005. My own mother sat down and chose to watch this Edgar Wright Masterpiece. Seeing gruesome zombies or the prospect of living a numb, disconnected life, the horror it instilled in her sent her into labor.
I was born that day from the mind of Edgar Wright. From the depiction of lackluster living turned hearty zombie attacks, my mother found the energy to undergo labor.
This film ignites pain. This film made me crawl out of my mother’s womb. This film brought me life.
Watch it this Halloween, and you could end up giving birth. What’s scarier than that?
