Vampiric Flatshare Fiasco: The Mockumentary Genius of What We Do in the Shadows
When eternity meets eviction notices, even vampires can’t escape the chaos of shared living.
In the annals of horror comedy, few films capture the absurdities of immortality with such razor-sharp wit as this 2014 gem. Blending found-footage tropes with vampire mythology, it transforms bloodsucking predators into bickering roommates, offering a fresh lens on genre conventions that still resonates a decade later.
- The film’s brilliant subversion of vampire lore through mundane domestic strife, turning eternal night into sitcom fodder.
- Its mockumentary style, which amplifies performances and satire while nodding to horror’s documentary roots.
- Enduring legacy as a cult hit that spawned a hit TV series, influencing parody horror worldwide.
Eternal Night, Temporary Lease
The narrative unfolds in present-day Wellington, New Zealand, where a camera crew gains unprecedented access to a household of vampires navigating modern life. Viago, a dandyish 19th-century vampire, serves as the reluctant spokesperson, escorting viewers through the gothic Victorian manse he shares with his flatmates. There’s Vladislav, the self-proclaimed alpha with a penchant for dramatic failures; Deacon, the rebellious punk from the 1700s who shirks household duties; and Petyr, a 8,000-year-old Nosferatu-like beast lurking in the basement. Their unlife is upended when Nick, a newly turned vampire, joins the fold after a drunken encounter with Deacon, dragging his unsuspecting werewolf buddy Stu into their world.
Director Taika Waititi, co-helming with Jemaine Clement, crafts a richly detailed synopsis that eschews traditional horror beats for escalating comedy. Key scenes pivot on petty squabbles: Viago’s frustration over unreturned formal wear, Vladislav’s impotence against a rival beast named The Beast, and chaotic house meetings devolving into levitating furniture and petty magics. The plot crescendos at a vampire parliament ball, where inter-species tensions erupt, culminating in a werewolf-vampire summit that hilariously deflates mythic grandeur. Supporting cast shines, with Rhys Darby as the hapless werewolf Anton, Cori Gonzalez-Macuer as tech-savvy Stu, and Ben Fransham reprising Nosferatu’s iconic visage as Petyr.
Production drew from New Zealand’s tight-knit film community, shot guerrilla-style on digital video to mimic amateur documentary realism. Budget constraints birthed inventive effects, like practical wire work for levitation and subtle CGI for transformations, all underscoring the film’s thesis: immortality amplifies human flaws rather than transcending them. Legends of vampire flatshares riff on real folklore, from Eastern European strigoi to Western gothic, but filter through Kiwi humour, grounding supernatural excess in relatable banality.
Blood, Bills, and Brotherhood
At its core, the film dissects male friendship through undead lenses, portraying vampires as dysfunctional brothers bound by eternity. Viago’s meticulous politeness masks deep insecurity, evident in his hypnotic victim interviews where he micromanages consent. Vladislav’s boasts crumble in failed hypnosis attempts, symbolising faded glory. These character studies reveal how undeath fossilises personalities: Deacon’s slovenliness as eternal adolescence, Petyr’s isolation as monstrous alienation.
Gender dynamics add layers, with female vampires like Jackie and Nadja (from the expanded TV universe, hinted here) wielding power sans male posturing. The film critiques toxic masculinity subtly, as vampires’ bravado yields to compromise, especially post-Nick’s modernising influence. Stu’s arc—from mortal outsider to tolerated ally—highlights integration, contrasting Nick’s petulance that leads to his ironic demise via sunlight.
Class tensions simmer beneath fangs: Viago’s aristocratic pretensions clash with Deacon’s proletarian rebellion, echoing New Zealand’s egalitarian ethos against colonial hangovers. Sound design amplifies this, with foley-heavy chores like dishwashing by vampires underscoring drudgery’s universality, while Tame Impala’s score injects ironic coolness.
Mockumentary Fangs: Style and Subversion
The found-footage format, pioneered in horror by Cannibal Holocaust and The Blair Witch Project, here flips dread to delight. Cinematographer Richard Bluck’s steady cam follows flatmates with intrusive intimacy, capturing unscripted-feeling improv that Waititi and Clement honed from theatre backgrounds. Editing mimics reality TV confessionals, where vampires air grievances directly to lens, humanising monsters.
Iconic scenes demand dissection: the laundry montage, where bloodied sheets defy modern appliances, uses mise-en-scène of cluttered gothic decay against fluorescent kitchens for comedic dissonance. Vladislav’s “Doorknobs” power failure employs shadow puppetry and practical effects, lampooning CGI-heavy blockbusters. The beast confrontation layers fog, practical animatronics, and Ben Fransham’s physicality for visceral laughs.
Cinematography favours natural light contrasts—candlelit manors versus harsh daylight perils—symbolising vampires’ anachronism. Set design by Katie Wolfe transforms Wellington basements into labyrinthine crypts, blending period authenticity with Kiwi kitsch like fluorescent Virgin Mary statues.
Effects That Stick: Practical Gore and Gags
Special effects anchor the film’s low-fi charm, prioritising practical over digital for tangible hilarity. Weta Workshop alumni contributed vampire transformations: Nick’s turning uses latex appliances and corn syrup blood, evoking Sam Raimi’s slapstick gore. Levitation rigs, visible in outtakes, enhance authenticity, while Petyr’s makeup—rat-like prosthetics and contact lenses—pays homage to silent era horrors.
Sound effects elevate gags: exaggerated crunches for impalings, wet sloshes for blood feasts. The impact? Effects serve satire, demystifying horror tropes; a zombie attack becomes a household chore, mops replacing machetes. This restraint influenced Partridge-style comedies and horror spoofs like Deathgasm.
Production challenges abounded: night shoots in urban Wellington dodged permits, fostering improvisational energy. Censorship dodged gore’s excess, earning an R for “bloody horror violence and brief drug use,” yet charm evaded backlash.
Kiwi Bites into Global Lore
Genre-wise, it revitalises vampire subgenre post-Twilight glut, echoing Fright Night parody while pioneering mockumentary undead. Historical context: post-Lord of the Rings boom, Waititi leveraged NZ talent, exporting local humour globally. Influences span This Is Spinal Tap to Pop and Me, but infuse Pacific Islander perspectives on community.
Influence proliferates: FX series adaptation (2019-) expands lore, amassing Emmys; remakes mooted in Hollywood. Cultural echoes in memes—”Viago’s victims”—and TikTok skits perpetuate virality.
Trauma themes lurk: vampires’ PTSD from historical torments (Vladislav’s beast loss) parallels immigrant alienation, resonant in diverse casts. Religion skewers via poly-species tolerance, mocking zealotry.
Legacy’s Undying Thirst
A decade on, its prescience shines: streaming-era bingeing mirrors vampire hunts, social media as modern hypnosis. Critical acclaim—92% Rotten Tomatoes—stems from universal truths: eternity bores without mates. For horror fans, it bridges laughs and chills, proving comedy’s sharpest blade.
Director in the Spotlight
Taika Waititi, born Taika David Cohen on 16 August 1975 in Te Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington), New Zealand, embodies a fusion of Maori, Jewish, and European heritage that infuses his eclectic oeuvre. Raised between Nga Tahu and Eastern European roots, he immersed in comics, film, and Maori oral traditions, studying theatre at Victoria University before dropping out for comedy circuits. His breakthrough arrived with short Two Cars, One Night (2003), earning an Oscar nod and spotlighting childlike wonder amid adult mundanity.
Waititi’s career trajectory blends indie quirk with blockbuster flair. Co-founding Taika Productions, he directed Eagle vs Shark (2007), a Napoleon Dynamite-esque romance starring Clement, cementing deadpan style. Boy (2010), his semi-autobiographical tale of a Maori boy’s Michael Jackson obsession amid absent fatherhood, became NZ’s top-grosser, blending pathos and humour.
Global ascent followed: What We Do in the Shadows (2014) with Clement launched vampire mockumentary fever. Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016) paired Sam Neill with Julian Dennison in bush odyssey, grossing millions and Oscar nods. Marvel’s Thor: Ragnarok (2017) injected punk energy, Korg’s voice his own. Jojo Rabbit (2019), satirical Hitler romp with Scarlett Johansson, nabbed Oscar for Adapted Screenplay. Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) continued MCU ties.
Influences: Christopher Guest mockumentaries, Aki Kaurismaki deadpan, Maori storytelling. Awards cascade: BAFTAs, Saturns, NZ Film Awards. Recent ventures: Next Goal Wins (2023) sports dramedy; Klara and the Sun adaptation pending. Waititi acts prolifically (Green Lantern cameo), writes (Free Comic Book Day), produces via Piki Films promoting indigenous voices. Filmography: Scarlet China (2005 short), Fisherman’s Friend (2005), Two Cars, One Night (2003), Eagle vs Shark (2007), Boy (2010), What We Do in the Shadows (2014), Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016), Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Jojo Rabbit (2019), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), plus TV like What We Do in the Shadows series oversight and Our Flag Means Death (2022).
Actor in the Spotlight
Taika Waititi shines as Viago in What We Do in the Shadows, but his acting career spans decades of versatile cameos and leads. Born 1975 in Wellington, early life oscillated between Maori immersion and urban grit, fostering shape-shifting persona. Theatre roots in Capital Comedy Cabaret led to TV: Bunt and the Brothers Karamazov (1998), The Tem Show (2002).
Breakouts: Scorched (2005) dramatic turn; voice in Eagle vs Shark (2007). Mockumentary honed in Radirgy videogame voice (2006). Hollywood beckons: Green Lantern (2011) as Tomar-Re, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (2012) Kili’s elf king. Marvel dominance: Korg in Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Avengers: Endgame (2019), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022)—rock golem stole scenes with Kiwi drawl.
Leads scarce but potent: Boy (2010) as father; Jojo Rabbit (2019) as Adolf Hitler, earning acclaim for nuanced fanaticism. TV: Mo (2010 miniseries), What We Do in the Shadows Viago—prim, hapless vampire blending fussbudget charm and pathos. Awards: New Zealand Film Award for Boy; Emmy noms via directing.
Filmography highlights: Two Cars, One Night (voice, 2003), Eagle vs Shark (2007), Boy (2010), Green Lantern (2011), The Hobbit trilogy (2012-2014), Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Jojo Rabbit (2019), Free Guy (2021 cameo), Lightyear (2022 voice). Ongoing: Trim (upcoming). Waititi’s screen presence—impish, empathetic—mirrors directorial empathy.
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Bibliography
Clement, J. and Waititi, T. (2014) What We Do in the Shadows production notes. Wellington: Unison Films.
Corry, F. (2015) ‘Vampire Comedy and the Mockumentary Form’, Senses of Cinema, 74. Available at: http://sensesofcinema.com/2015/feature-articles/what-we-do-in-the-shadows/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Kermode, M. (2014) ‘What We Do in the Shadows review – fang-tastic mockumentary’, The Observer, 14 September. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2014/sep/14/what-we-do-in-the-shadows-review (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
Middeldorp, M. (2020) ‘Immortal Domesticity: Taika Waititi’s Subversion of Vampire Tropes’, Journal of New Zealand Studies, 49, pp. 112-130.
Powell, A. (2019) Taika Waititi: Conversations on Comedy and Cinema. Auckland: Auckland University Press.
Sharp, J. (2022) ‘From Shadows to Series: The Mockumentary Legacy’, Fangoria, 412, pp. 45-52.
Waititi, T. (2016) Interviewed by Empire Magazine for Hunt for the Wilderpeople. Available at: https://www.empireonline.com/movies/features/taika-waititi-interview/ (Accessed: 15 October 2024).
