The Autopsy of Jane Doe is an American supernatural horror directed by Norwegian Andre Ovredal, who directed the brilliant Troll Hunter.
It stars Brian Cox as Tommy Tilden and Emile Hirsch as his son Austin.
Tommy is a a forensic pathologist and Emile works as his assistant. A harried local police chief ask them to rush through the autopsy of an unidentified young woman who’s been found in a basement. She’s in immaculate condition, but the rest of the house is full of blood-soaked corpses.
Tommy and Austin apply themselves with grim professionalism to trying to solve the mystery of how ‘Jane Doe’ died, but gradually things take an unnerving turn.
The Autopsy of Jane Doe does a beautiful job with a classic horror trope – our fear that the dead will return. It takes the people we trust to look violent death in the eye – forensic pathologists – and strips them down.
It also, I thought, takes a subtle swipe at expectations of female beauty. Maybe I'm just desensitized after watching The Corpse of Anna Fritz, which features graphic necrophilia. But Jane Doe’s body is eerily perfect and this is not a good thing.
The Autopsy has the most wonderful contrapuntal structure. There’s the obvious like a certain sound effect that appears at the beginning and the end of the movie with very different meaning. There’s relationship between father and son, marked by love and conflict.
Then there’s the less obvious, like Austin’s girlfriend’s benign insinuation into the male space of the morgue. This foreshadows the more sinister insinuation of Jane Doe.
These parallels and pairings should ring like bells. They should sing like a choir. And for the first half of the film, they do.
But it all gets lost in the second half. There’s nothing wrong with the acting – when has Brian Cox ever disappointed? But somehow these potentially powerful counterpoints miss each other, they don’t ring out. The denouement feels silly and anticlimactic.
The only exception to this is Jane Doe herself, played by Olwen Kelly. Her blank face terrified me in every shot.
And horror films often reveal wonders on a second or third viewing. I’d certainly watch this film again.
More astonishing footage from the ground during the height of the zombie plague in the United Kindgom.
Voting has begun on World War Z v Train to Busan. Voting closes this Thursday, 21 December at 9am UK time.
Use #titlefright and vote:
A SplitU operative caught on camera struggling to cope with the worst ever incident he has ever dealt with.
We are pleased to add some rare archive material today of a genuine vox pop about the Splits epidemic filmed on the streets of Brighton. More to come.
World War Z is a big budget zombie film directed by Marc Forster. It stars Brad Pitt as a former UN inspector and family man Gerry. When a zombie plague sweeps the world Gerry must comes out of retirement and go on one last mission.
Train to Busan is a low budget South Korean zombie movie directed by Yeon Sang-ho. It stars Gong Yoo as distracted father Seok-Woo, and Kim Soo-Ahn as his daughter Soo-An. She persuades him to take her on a fast train to Busan to see her mother, but on the way the train is attacked by zombies.
THE WEIGH IN
Let’s compare the films to establish if they’re a good match.
I initially intended to pair Train to Busan with La Horde – a French zombie film where the battle takes place in a tower block - because both are action-horrors where the action is shaped by particular physical structures. But after watching Train to Busan I changed my mind.
Despite it’s kinetic energy, La Horde’s characters are shallow and unlikeable. They also fail to learn – notoriously, they keep shooting zombies in the chest.
Whereas Train to Busan is crammed with simple but compelling characters whose interactions keep us emotionally invested and drive the plot forwards. It just wouldn’t be a fair fight.
Next, I decided to make Train to Busan fight 28 Weeks Later. This was excitingly close and I’d like to return to this particular match later.
But then I asked twitter and the verdict was that Train to Busan should actually be fighting World War Z. I was skeptical at first, but after watching World War Z again I realised there were lots of interesting parallels between the two films. So here goes.
Parallel 1 - fast, organised zombies
Both films feature fast zombies which form mobs, human bridges and the like. In World War Z we see zombies breach a 20 metre wall by climbing over each other. In Train to Busan the train is almost stopped by a massive chain of zombies clinging to it.
Parallel 2 – family
In both films, the lead character is a father, and both films gain their tension from the centrality of the family.
World War Z begins with Gerry making pancakes for his kids’ breakfast, but this idyll is ripped apart by the zombie plague. Gerry is forced to accept a mission to find a cure because otherwise his family will lose military protection.
In Train to Busan, a good fifteen minutes is devoted to establishing Seok-Yoo’s terrible relationship with his daughter. This relationship remains key throughout the film.
Parallel 3 - politics
Both films reference a wider political canvas. World War Z puts zombies in a geopolitical context, with nations making and breaking their fate according to their histories and their relationships with other nations.
Train to Busan is one big economic critique, with wealthy Seok-Yoo bent on saving his own skin while blue-collar Sang-Hwa risks his life to save others.
LET THE FRIGHT BEGIN
Let’s get them in the ring!
Round 1 - the father
To begin with, high flying finance executive Seok-Woo is a textbook terrible father. He has his secretary buy a gift for his daughter and it turns out to be the same gift he got her last time. He doesn’t turn up to her school show. It’s her birthday the next day and unsurprisingly she wants to spend it with her mother. With great irritation he agrees to take her, and that’s how they end up going to Busan on... well... you know how they get there!
When the zombies arrive on the train Seok-Woo’s first reaction is to shut out the living along with the dead. In this case it’s uninfected couple Sung-Gyeung and Sang Hwa, played by Jung Yu-Mi and Ma Dong-Seok. Seok-Woo’s actions are even more shocking because Sung Gyeung is pregnant. Soo-An is horrified and comments on her father’s ruthlessness.
But when Sang-Hwa saves Soo-An’s life, Seok-Woo begins to reassess.
By the end of the film Seok-Woo’s completely changed his moral code. When he’s infected he throws himself off the train to save not just his daughter’s life but that of Sung-Gyeong, the pregnant woman.
In World War Z, on the other hand, Gerry doesn’t need to address his moral code. Instead of changing he thinks, gradually piecing together a way to keep healthy people safe from the undead.
Gerry’s family is happy and he’s a natural hero. “What is that Gerry?” screams his wife when the zombies attack, and she clings to his neck as he saves her.
The actual devastation is far more epic than in Train to Busan, but it never gets inside Gerry. Unlike Seok-Woo, he never has to fight himself. The patriarchy is solid, the father is reliable. He doesn’t undergo an emotional journey – instead he endures a series of escalating scares whilst solving the puzzle of how to save humanity.
I call this round for Train to Busan. I love World War Z but Seok-Yoo’s journey is moving and memorable in a way that Gerry’s heroics aren’t.
Round 2 – leadership and politics
There’s a wider question in both films about how we lead society and civilisation in a time of threat.
In World War Z we encounter typically pragmatic military leadership. A navy captain played by David Andrews leaves Gerry in no doubt that his family can only stay in the safe zone if he accepts a mission.
Whereas Thierry, the UN deputy general secretary played by Fana Mokoena, protects Gerry and his family. He reluctantly ships Gerry’s wife and children out of the safe haven – to another slightly less safe haven – when he thinks Gerry is dead.
Thierry, who represents global leadership, embodies another kind of pragmatism – the coming together of nations to fight a common enemy.
This is a highly diluted version of the message of the novel World War Z by Max Brooks, which is a gripping but impersonal education in geopolitics. Still, the film gets across the way the rules would change in the event of global apocalypse. Even bitter enemies would be forced to work together to survive.
The Political Omnivore says that there are no politics in World War Z. The zombies are neither left-wing nor right-wing. They’re not a commentary on how we run our societies - they’re a metaphor for apocalypse. The closest World War Z gets to a political message is that in such circumstances we must drop politics.
Whereas Train to Busan dives headlong into hot political waters. For example, Seok-Woo’s ruthless moral code is explicitly linked to his position in society. When he tells another character he’s a fund manager, he’s told he’s a leech. His selfish behaviour is contrasted with the heroics of working-class Sung-Hwa, who sacrifices himself for the greater good.
Another passenger, wealthy chief executive Yong-Suk – played by Kim Eui-Sung - is even worse. Seok-Woo changes, but Yong-Suk remains committed to his ‘I’m alright Jack’ mentality until his death. The staff on the train cravenly follow his lead.
Parallels are drawn between zombies and the living, and at times the two are virtually indistinguishable. For example when Yong-Suk and his coterie bay at Seok-Woo and his survivors to leave the one carriage that remains safe because they may be infected.
It’s been suggested that this is a comment on South Korea’s worst ever maritime disaster, when a ferry sank killing 300 people, mostly children. The ferry had been overloaded for commercial reasons, and crew fled after telling passengers to stay put.
I’d call this round a draw. World War Z looks to the future and is a genuinely original take on the zombie flick. Train to Busan covers familiar ground for a zombie narrative – left-leaning class conflict – but the relevance of this cannot be denied.
Round 3 – pace and structure
World War Z is confused.
We all know the story of how the final third got re-shot. Initially the final act was set in a remote yet high-profile nation state. After South Korea and Israel, Gerry was to go to Russia and die in battle. It didn’t work and another ending was put together where Gerry ends up at a World Health Organisation facility in Wales.
In a virtually action-free sequence of high suspense, he discovers a way to make humans invisible to zombies. He injects himself with a lethal bacteria that makes the undead ignore him because they only want to pass the virus to healthy hosts.
This is a great piece of cinema but it leaves a slightly odd taste in the mouth. The switch from geopolitics to microbiology is somewhat vertiginous and every time I watch it I get motion sickness.
Train to Busan, in contrast, is perfectly structured. The relationship between Seok-Woo and Soo-Ann drives the action throughout the film, there’s no sudden lurch into to what is almost a totally different genre.
At the end, Seok-Woo is bitten trying to protect Soo-An from the infected Yong-Suk. He succeeds in throwing Yong-Suk from the train and then has about a minute to spend with his daughter before he turns. He shows her how to stop the train and tells her that he loves her, but then he has to go. If you aren’t moved by this scene you must have a heart of stone.
It is the perfect culmination of what has come before. Through it, the film links the health of our intimate relationships with the health of wider society.
I call this round for Train to Busan. World War Z has a brilliant energy that compensates for its flaws. Whereas Train to Busan is simply flawless.
BEATEN ON POINTS
It's almost a knockout, but in the end Train to Busan wins on points.
World War Z is more original and ambitious, but it’s badly delivered.
Train to Busan does something more conventional, but does it to perfection.
Thanks for reading and please tell me what you think – comments are open below. I’d love to know.
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