One Cut of the Dead (2017)

Perhaps for some time now, cinema has been lacking in original ideas for stories, meaning that style is becoming more important. CGI, films shot entirely on green screen and the failed attempt at 3D have seen special effects used as a way of overcoming this. But as hipsters love independent movies, increasingly there seems to be a move towards special effort, as opposed to effects.

While not an overall excellent film, 2017's "Ice Cream and the Sound of Raindrops" was shot in one sixty-plus minute take, including various locations and musical interludes along the way. And the "Inside No. 9" team revisited the idea of filming a live episode last year. Relative unknown director Shinichiro Ueda's "One Cut of the Dead" (or more appropriately the Japanese title: "Kamera o tomeru na!" / "Don't Stop the Camera") - a film within a film within a film - combines this use of a single take with the perils of trying to shoot scripted material live.

In an abandoned army facility, a girl is attacked by her zombie boyfriend. Except that she isn't. Chinatsu (Yuzuki Akiyama) is a low-rent actress starring in a zombie film directed by the erratic Higurashi (Takayuki Hamatsu). Dismayed at her forty-second take failure, they break from filming. But as they wait around, the small crew are attacked by zombies - Higurashi knowing that the location has a "history" of army experiments.

What follows is a one-shot chase as the survivors try to escape their newly dead attackers, with awkward dialogue, strange behaviour, blood splattering and breaking the fourth wall. The sole survivor, Chinatsu is left standing on the roof of the facility, staring up at the slowly and awkwardly rising camera as the end credits then scroll up the screen.

But we haven't got there yet.

It is after this thirty-plus minute single take that "One Cut of the Dead" actually begins. A month earlier, Higurashi is approached by producers from the "Zombie Channel" to film a single-take zombie film to be broadcast live in the afternoon - his "cheap, but average" style seemingly what they're looking for. Something of a hack director, he is initially reluctant, but is too weak to say "no." As such, he takes on the role and is introduced to his cast and crew: a less than inspiring bunch.

After a troubled preparation, the day of the shoot comes, but as they prepare for their risky move, everything that can go wrong goes wrong. As such, Higurashi and his crew are left to improvise and get by as best they can, making sure to follow the mantra: "kameru o tomeru na!"

Itself a film made on a very small budget, I'd seen a lot about the record-breaking profit levels that "One Cut of the Dead" had already made and the strong social media marketing efforts by the cast and crew. As such, I chose to read little about the film itself before seeing it, trying to remove all "Blair Witch" comparisons and expectations.

Not just a film within a film within a film, this is essentially the film, making-of and bloopers all-in-one. To start the "one cut" is a breath-taking ride of hilarity; seemingly baffling acting, behaviour and dialogue; blood splattering; gore; talking directly to the camera; various mistakes; and what must be a very tired cameraman. As the initial end credits roll, we're left thinking "o-kay."

The film's second part offers explanation as to the above, in what is a witty, well-crafted script to create all of the mistakes that appear in the live broadcast we're thrown into. The stress and pressure the crew are put under shows, with none worse affected than Higurashi and his wife, Nao (Harumi Shuhama), drafted into the production late on. Both go rogue, not so much acting, as letting their frustrations out - the director determined to make the shoot work for the sake of his art.

The television producers, while setting the difficult task, are less concerned by the art, embracing the chaos. Indeed, much of the middle section of "One Cut of the Dead" feels like a Japanese TV drama; the style of shooting and music feeling very much part of a Japanese small screen. But this is a film made for the big screen and a big audience. The laughter track provided by a big crowd adds to the undoubted fun that this is. Ueda shows that a lot of ideas that come out of a live shoot will be improvised out of necessity, and has fun in doing so. The laughs are big, the timing spot-on and the acting suitably awkward.

But while showing improvisation is necessary, Ueda's film is one that has been carefully thought-out and choreographed, like a well rehearsed stage production. The cast and crew have obviously been challenged in making this, and the crew's efforts are shown as the actual end credits roll in true Jackie Chan fashion: the "making-of" cameraman following the actual camera and sound men as they take a well-earned drinks break as the camera continues to roll.