Fangs for the Memories: Taika Waititi’s Immortal Comedy of Errors

In a world of capes and coffins, what happens when vampires face the true horror of shared laundry and petty feuds?

From the blood-soaked annals of horror cinema emerges a film that flips the genre on its nocturnal head, blending spine-chilling vampire lore with the banal absurdities of modern flat-sharing. Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement’s creation masterfully skewers eternal damnation through the lens of a handheld camera, proving that sometimes the scariest monster is a bad roommate.

  • Explore how the mockumentary format transforms ancient vampire tropes into a riotous commentary on domestic dysfunction and undead bureaucracy.
  • Unpack the razor-sharp performances that elevate slapstick satire into a profound dissection of immortality’s loneliness.
  • Trace the film’s shoestring production triumphs and its enduring ripple through horror comedy, from Wellington basements to Hollywood blockbusters.

Flatmates from the Abyss: Immersing in the Undead Documentary

The film plunges viewers into the dimly lit corridors of a Te Aroha flatshare in Wellington, New Zealand, where four vampires of varying vintages navigate the eternal night. Petyr, a Nazi-era beast reminiscent of Nosferatu with his elongated fangs and rat-like demeanour, lurks in the basement. Viago, the punctilious 18th-century dandy, insists on tea invitations before bites. Vladislav, a self-proclaimed ‘sexy’ 800-year-old powerhouse plagued by impotence spells, boasts crumbling murals of his faded glories. And Deacon, the rebellious 1860s vampire, lounges in leather amid werewolf tensions. A film crew, inexplicably immune to compulsion, captures their squabbles over dishes, coven meetings, and a housewarming gone gruesomely awry.

This setup meticulously details the vampires’ nocturnal rituals: Viago’s meticulous dressing ritual, complete with powdered wig and lace cuffs; Deacon’s failed attempt at a fascist pamphlet; and the group’s disastrous outing to a goth club, where they bewitch mortals only to devolve into petty jealousy over fresh blood. The narrative escalates when Nick, a hapless victim turned vampire, disrupts the hierarchy with his smartphone savvy and celebrity delusions, leading to a werewolf alliance and a vampire parliament showdown. Every scene brims with intricate lore—silver allergies, sunlight aversion via SPF 1,000,000—woven into mundane gripes, making the supernatural feel oppressively ordinary.

Key cast anchor this chaos: Taika Waititi as Viago brings fastidious charm; Jemaine Clement embodies Vladislav’s bombastic insecurity; Ben Fransham revives Petyr’s primal menace; and Jonathan Brugh’s Deacon channels punkish sloth. Rhys Darby shines as werewolf pack leader Anton, while Stu Rutherford’s oblivious Nick steals scenes with millennial obliviousness. Production leaned on Wellington’s gothic architecture, filming guerrilla-style in real locations to heighten authenticity, a nod to New Zealand’s burgeoning indie scene post-Peter Jackson era.

Biting Satire: Domestic Hell and Vampire Vanity

At its core, the film dissects immortality as an unending parade of petty vanities and relational rot. Vladislav’s impotence curse, manifesting as feeble levitation fails, mirrors the emasculation of age, his once-mighty ‘Doom’ reduced to whimpering spells. Viago’s romantic quest for a victim-bride underscores eternal solitude, his hypnosis mishaps yielding comic pathos. These character arcs reveal motivations rooted in boredom: centuries blur into forgotten conquests, leaving only flat feuds. Petyr’s basement exile symbolises the outcast elder, his transformation scene a visceral callback to Nosferatu‘s silent horrors, yet undercut by muppet-like effects.

Gender dynamics simmer beneath the fangs, with female vampires like the Topaz-devouring Nandor absent here but echoed in the men’s chauvinistic coven. The film slyly critiques male fragility through hyper-macho posturing—Vladislav’s nude levitation flop, Deacon’s undead BDSM—while Nick’s turning exposes assimilation anxieties, his celebrity hunger clashing with old-world pomp. Class tensions arise in the vampire parliament’s opulent hall, where ancient aristocrats lord over plebeian fledglings, parodying bureaucratic horror akin to Brazil.

Sound design amplifies the satire: guttural hisses punctuate arguments, exaggerated cape flourishes whoosh comically, and Nick’s phone ringtones shatter gothic silences. Cinematography favours shaky handheld shots, mimicking This Is Spinal Tap, but infuses dread via low angles on fangs and sudden blood sprays, blending cringe comedy with jump scares.

Shoestring Fangs: Effects and Craft in the Shadows

Special effects shine on a micro-budget of NZ$1.6 million, relying on practical wizardry over CGI. Petyr’s bat transformation uses animatronics and forced perspective, his skeletal form crafted from latex and wires for grotesque realism. Blood squibs burst convincingly during the blender demise, while levitation employs wires and trampolines, visible glitches adding meta-humour. Werewolf makeup, led by Danny Mulheron, features hypertrichosis prosthetics that convulse realistically, their full-moon howls distorted for feral menace.

Cinematographer Robert Steele’s desaturated palette evokes grimy realism: moonlight filters through grimy windows, casting elongated shadows that homage Dracula universals while grounding in Kiwi suburbia. Editing by the directors maintains mockumentary verisimilitude, intercutting confessions with carnage, building tension through mundane montages exploding into violence.

Production tales abound: shot over three weeks in 2013, the team faced rain-soaked nights and unpermitted shoots, Waititi and Clement drawing from personal flatshares for authenticity. Censorship dodged via comedy veneer, though gore—heads yanked off, stakes through hearts—earned an R rating.

Werewolf Woes and Cultural Claws

The werewolf subplot elevates rivalry to absurdity: Anton’s pack, nude and howling in parks, contrasts vampire refinement with primal pack loyalty. Their transformation sequence, prosthetics ripping amid agony, parodies lycanthrope clichés from An American Werewolf in London, yet humanises them through barbecues and singalongs. This feud culminates in a truce brokered over petty slights, underscoring theme of chosen family amid monstrous isolation.

Culturally, the film taps New Zealand identity: Wellington’s wind-swept streets frame immigrant vampires, mirroring Kiwi multiculturalism. Influences span Fawlty Towers farce to Hammer horrors, subverting Interview with the Vampire‘s brooding with sitcom snark.

Ripples Through Eternity: Legacy and Influence

Premiering at Sundance 2014, it grossed over $US22 million, spawning a hit FX series (2019-) expanding lore with Nandor and Guillermo. Remakes beckon, but originals endure via quotable zingers—”Werewolves not swearwolves!”—and viral clips. It revitalised vampire fatigue post-Twilight, proving horror comedy’s potency, influencing Zombieland successors and mockumentaries like Deathgasm.

Critics hail its fresh gaze: RogerEbert.com praised “perfectly pitched undead farce,” while academic takes link to postcolonial readings of vampire assimilation in AotearoNZ.

Director in the Spotlight

Taika Waititi, born Taika David Cohen on 16 August 1979 in Te Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington), New Zealand, embodies a fusion of Maori heritage from his mother’s Te Whanau a Apanui iwi and Ashkenazi Jewish roots from his father. Raised in Kaiwaka and later Wellington, he immersed in comics, drawing, and street performance, honing a whimsical worldview. After Victoria University of Wellington’s theatre programme, he cut teeth on short films like Two Cars, One Night (2003), which snagged Oscar nomination, launching global notice.

Waititi’s feature directorial debut Eagle vs Shark (2007) channelled awkward romance into cult status, starring Clement and expanding his Flight of the Conchords ties. What We Do in the Shadows (2014) cemented mockumentary mastery, co-directed with Clement on shoestring ingenuity. Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016) delivered heartfelt adventure with Sam Neill, earning BAFTA nods. Hollywood beckoned with Thor: Ragnarok (2017), infusing Marvel with punk rock flair and Korg’s claymation voice (his own). Jojo Rabbit (2019), his Oscar-winning original screenplay, satirised Nazism via Hitler imaginary friend.

Further highlights: Free Guy (2021) action-comedy; Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), blending absurdity with grief; Next Goal Wins (2023) sports dramedy on American Samoa footballers. As actor, Waititi shone in Green Lantern (2011) cameo, The Suicide Squad (2021) as Ratcatcher 2’s dad, and TV like Moon Knight (2022). Influences—Kieslowski, Coen brothers, Maori oral traditions—permeate his oeuvre of humane absurdity. Producing via Piki Films champions indigenous voices, earning Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (2024). Filmography spans 20+ directs, blending indie heart with blockbuster verve.

Actor in the Spotlight

Jemaine Clement, born 10 January 1974 in Masterton, New Zealand, grew up in a working-class family, discovering comedy through radio and theatre at Wellington’s Bats. Self-taught musician, he formed The Humourbeasts before partnering Taika Waititi for HBO specials. Breakthrough came with Flight of the Conchords (2007-09), Emmy-nominated HBO series as Bret, spawning global tours and Bret McKenzie collaboration.

Clement’s film lead in Eagle vs Shark (2007) showcased geeky pathos. Co-writing/directing What We Do in the Shadows (2014) as Vladislav birthed iconic insecurity. Megasheep (2008) voice work led to Despicable Me franchise as supervillain vector. Gentlemen Broncos (2009) cult oddity; Dinner for Schmucks (2010) with Steve Carell. Legion (2010) antagonist role; Mortal Engines (2018) villainy.

TV triumphs: Legion (2017-19) manic Oliver Bird; What We Do in the Shadows series (2019-) recurring. Producing People Places Things (2015); voicing Tamatoa in Moana (2016), earning Grammy nod. Recent: DC League of Super-Pets (2022); directing Shadow in the Cloud (2020) action-horror. Clement’s deadpan menace and musical flair define eclectic career, no major awards but fervent fanbase. Filmography exceeds 40 credits, from indie satire to animation.

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Bibliography

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  • Clark, M. (2019) Mockumentaries and the Horror Comedy Hybrid. Journal of Film and Video, 71(3), pp.45-62.
  • Erickson, H. (2020) Taika Waititi: Conversations with Filmmakers. University Press of Mississippi.
  • Hischier, D. (2015) Vampire Satire from Nosferatu to Shadows. Senses of Cinema, 74.
  • Waititi, T. and Clement, J. (2014) What We Do in the Shadows DVD Commentary. Paladin/Neon.
  • Zoller Seitz, M. (2014) What We Do in the Shadows. RogerEbert.com. Available at: https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/what-we-do-in-the-shadows-2014 (Accessed 15 October 2024).