The astonishing thing about Toy Story 3 [spoiler alert] is that the folks at Pixar actually convinced us, for a good 30 seconds, that Woody, Buzz, and the gang were actually going to be melted alive, turned to plasticky slush in a veritable pit of doom. The movie was made for the whole family, of course, and watching our beloved miniature friends meet such a gruesome demise is something that would never, ever happen under Disney/Pixar’s watch. And yet there we all were, clutching our armrests, tears welling up in our eyes, convinced that this was, in fact, the end.

This variety of audience manipulation has come to define the long-running Mission: Impossible franchise. Each new director and crew in charge of the series is faced with this (dare I say) impossible mission of convincing us that, this time, Tom Cruise’s Ethan Hunt might actually die. Selling us on this idea gets more and more difficult with each film because Ethan has been dodging bullets, falling off motorcycles and hanging off of dangerously high things for almost twenty years now, and he shows no sign of slowing. It’s a tough, tough sell.

So the question is, with Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, are Cruise and writer-director Christopher McQuarrie good salesman? Does M:I‘s fifth installment keep you on the edge of your seat, worrying that Hunt and his team may never see the light of day again? Impossibly (there I go again), it does. It doesn’t have the same heart or infectious humor of Brad Bird’s Ghost Protocol, but it follows the same winning formula, making it one of the best thrill-rides of the summer.

Hunt and his fellow members in the Impossible Mission Force (a clunky moniker, though its abbreviation, IMF, rolls off of the tongue nicely), a government-funded espionage agency, face an evil they’ve never known in The Syndicate, an international terrorist group whose primary objective is to obliterate the IMF. Taking The Syndicate down head-on proves to be a stiff challenge for Hunt and company when a meddling CIA director (Alec Baldwin) convinces the government to dissolve IMF, forcing Hunt into hiding as he plots his next move.

Left wasting their days away behind desks at the CIA are the straight-laced William Brandt (Jeremy Renner) and the klutzy, tech-savvy Benji Dunn (Simon Pegg, whose comedic timing makes him an invaluable member of the ensemble), but before long Ethan reaches out to them to help him smoke out The Syndicate. Series veteran Ving Rhames rejoins the team on their mission while series newcomer Rebecca Ferguson dips and twirls around the movie as a deadly double-agent.

Where the movie gives you your money’s worth is in its elaborately staged stunt sequences, all of which are heart-stopping. The movie opens with a shot of Cruise dangling off of the side of an airplane as it lifts off; it was all done for real, with practical effects, and with it Cruise further solidifies his status as the craziest, Evel Knievel MF’er in Hollywood, hands down. To say it’s spectacular is an understatement. But not to be outdone are the handful of other, equally impressive action scenes, which all feel equally distinct and indispensable. A showstopping set piece sees Hunt holding his breath for upwards of two minutes as he infiltrates a futuristic underwater storage unit, while a more intimate moment later in the movie sees Ferguson’s character facing off with a giant thug in a tense nocturnal knife fight. The best of the bunch is a wonderfully orchestrated assassination sequence set in an opera house, paying homage to Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew Too Much.

These mini-opuses of spy-thriller fun are so well crafted and suspenseful that we do, as I said, genuinely fear for the characters’ lives. But that fear only comes from the baseline fact that we fear for them as human beings; as characters, none of them are so endearing or lovable that we harbor a deep emotional connection. That’s Rogue Nations‘s biggest shortcoming: while the characters say witty things and obviously care for one another, we don’t get to learn much about them on a personal, hopes-and-fears level, outside their world of globe-trotting, car-chasing and evil plan-thwarting.

McQuarrie continues the theme of teamwork-over-tech launched by Bird in Ghost Protocol, though Bird frankly did it better. Again, when the imaginative gadgets and do-dads fail our heroes, they must rely on each other to save their skins. It’s this human element that made Bird’s movie so great, and while it’s still very much at the core of Rogue Nation, the message feels dampened. This is mostly due to the movie’s almost fetishistic fascination with strange-looking spy things; from a sniper rifle disguised as a brass instrument to USB drives disguised as lipstick (that one’s not even that clever), McQuarrie just can’t help but show them off. Best to leave the gadget porn to 007.

Rogue Nation isn’t the best M:I yet, but it’s easily third on the list, if not second (it’s about as good as J.J. Abrams’ M:I3). Cruise is still a nutjob, we still love watching things blow up in glorious global locales, and the cast has never been better, so why not keep the series going? As far as Hollywood cash-cow franchises go, Mission: Impossible is one I’m always happy to see pop back up at the theater. Now, the real question: What the hell are we going to dangle Tom off of next? My vote? Millennium Falcon. Crossover of the ages, right guys?! Guys?

From its premise alone it would be easy to discard Man Up in the same waste bin with Kate Hudson’s career from ’06 to ’09 and rejected Katherine Heigl movie pitches. After a night of heavy drinking, and yet another failed first date, Nancy (Lake Bell) gets mistaken for another woman at the train station only to end up on a blind date with Jack (Simon Pegg), a man that she actually could see herself dating. It feels unfair to try and defend the movie against all the romantic comedies that this one isn’t, because Man Up is an exceedingly charming unlikely love story with quick wit and hilarious performances despite any semblance to worse films. Having held its premiere at the 2015 Tribeca Film Festival, the movie is hardly a revelation within the rom com subgenre. The best thing about Man Up that less successful versions of this movie lack is Lake Bell in the lead role.

To this point in her career, Bell has largely been relegated to the supporting parts in films like It’s Complicated or No Strings Attached. Even her memorable TV appearances (Boston Legal, How to Make It In America, Children’s Hospital) feature her among an ensemble of funny actors. It was Bell’s feature filmmaking debut in 2013, In a World…, that helped to exhibit her magnitude and versatility in a starring role. As Nancy in Man Up, Bell once again demonstrates her mastery of accent work, seamlessly adopting a British inflection to her lines. She’s able to sell rapidly exchanged pieces of dialog and broadly absurd physical comedy; however, Bell appears so earnestly genuine that it’s impossible to deny her likeability.

Man Up begins by moving through a raucous hotel-set engagement party as a couple sneaks away to copulate in their room. Locked away by herself in the next room is Nancy, reciting a list of mantras into her mirror. She hopes to overcome her anxiety about the man downstairs whom her friends have set her up to meet, but first orders room service to avoid being at the party. Eventually, her date goes poorly and the next morning Nancy is hung-over on a train to London for her parents’ 40th wedding anniversary. Across from Nancy’s seat, a peppy, optimistic 24-year-old named Jessica (Ophelia Lovibond) flips through a copy of a self-help book before giving her copy to Nancy out of concern. Unfortunately for Jessica, the man she’s arranged to meet for a blind date, Pegg’s character, sees the self-help book with Nancy and mistakes her for the 24-year-old he planned on taking out.

The implementation of a misunderstanding as the impetus for romance has been a staple of cinema since movies like Bringing Up Baby, yet its overuse has made the more recent occurrences frustrating to watch. Man Up largely, though not entirely, avoids this issue two ways. Firstly, the meet cute between Nancy and Jack is actually fairly relatable and sweet, with both characters attempting to diffuse an awkward situation in a friendly way. Secondly, the misunderstanding is dealt with somewhat early rather than strung along for the duration of the film to provide a cheap, unnecessary twist in the third act. Nancy reveals that she’s not the woman Jack anticipated going on a date with less than halfway through the movie, and the two characters reassess their situation and advance the plot. The changing relationship dynamics throughout Man Up helps keep the Jack and Nancy romance engaging.

The pace at which all of the characters deliver their lines maintains a lively energy as scenes barrel forward. When the writing hits a false note, as it does a few times in the movie, the bevy of silliness and funny repartee surrounding it elevates the mediocre moments. There’s an infectious tone in Man Up, one that’s played for some broad laughs, but is mostly written to feel real. While the extent to which certain situation are heightened can be preposterous, the performances of both Bell and Pegg ground the film in a version of reality, and provide likable, empathetic characters in the lead roles.

The inconsistency of the humor does put a slight damper on Man Up as a whole. Rory Kinnear plays Sean, an old schoolmate of Nancy’s who had a crush on her, and goes to the extent of manipulating an uncomfortable kiss from her in the women’s bathroom. Kinnear’s performance becomes such a caricature that Sean feels like a character written for a different, dumber film. Sean and Nancy’s “intimate moment” gets interrupted by Jack, who enters the restroom despite Nancy’s not having been away for an egregious amount of time, and doesn’t act apologetic for intruding. The scene registers as forced in comparison to the rest of the absurdity in Man Up, which develops more naturally despite its wackiness. The occasional logic flaw breaks the momentum of some scenes, but is far from enough to disrupt the thoroughly pleasant experience in Man Up.

Fewer and fewer romantic comedies have broke through with audiences in the past few years. The only films in the genre to surpass $100 million at the domestic box office anytime this decade were Just Go With It ($103M), Valentine Day ($110M), and Silver Linings Playbook ($132M). Occasional subversions of the romantic comedy norm (Appropriate Behavior or They Came Together recently) manage to earn attention with critical acclaim, but rarely does the genre produce something quite as comfortable and entertaining as Man Up. The movie likely won’t amass a huge box office haul or garner the type of enthusiastic reactions that its more unique romantic comedy counterparts receive, but its charms are hard to resist and welcomed in an environment lacking quality films of its type. The combination of Bell and Pegg with fast-paced material and a few broad set pieces makes Man Up a completely enjoyable modern rom-com.

Don’t tell Tess Morris that the romantic comedy is dead. As a self-described “romantic comedy scientist,” she’s an ardent defender of not just her upcoming romantic comedy Man Up, but the genre as a whole. Her creative counterpart Ben Palmer wasn’t quite so bullish on the prospects of rom-com prior to reading Tess’ script. “I thought I would know what this script would be, I thought I knew what a British romantic comedy would entail, and it probably wasn’t for me.” Within the first couple of pages of Morris’ script, Palmer recognized that Man Up had qualities to make it an  endearingly entertaining romantic comedy. Together with their lead actors Lake Bell and Simon Pegg, both Palmer and Morris crafted a sweet, funny film that feels fresh amidst its familiar beats.

Chatting with Way Too Indie at the Tribeca Film Festival, Man Up screenwriter Tess Morris and the film’s director Ben Palmer go over their new movie’s entry into a harsh climate for the romantic comedy. They also discuss the benefit of casting great actors to star in your comedy, being inspired by a real-life missed connection, and the origins of the term “cute meet.”

Watch the full video interview on Way Too Indie’s YouTube channel

Romantic comedy, at least in recent years, has sort of taken on a negative connotation. Did you ever find that an obstacle when putting together Man Up?
Tess: No, I absolutely love the romantic comedy genre and I get very angry when people are dismissive of it.

Ben: Careful, Zach.

Tess: Sorry, careful, Zach. Yeah. I get quite irate when people say, “Oh the rom com is dead or whatever,” because I think you never hear that about thrillers or horrors or any other genre of filmmaking. For me, I wanted to write an unashamedly romantic, comedic film. It’s really only now that it’s coming out that we’re finding a lot of people saying to us, “I really enjoyed it! A romantic comedy!” And we’re like, [straining], “Yay!”

Ben: I think that’s good though. I think that’s good. It was certainly an obstacle for me because I’m the first to admit–

Tess: –because you’re an idiot.

Ben: Well, yeah, I am. When I was sent the script, I thought I knew what this script might be. Thought I knew what a British romantic comedy might entail and it probably wasn’t for me. It was within reading the first couple of pages of Tess’ script that you go, “Oh hang on a minute. This is very different. It’s sharp, it is really, and it’s very, very honest. And it’s really funny.”

At no point did it feel sort of schmaltzy or sentimental or patronizing, which was my expectation. At the same time it didn’t feel like it was trying to be snide and cynical, or take the piss out of the genre as well. It was very heartfelt and very emotional. It had all of those ingredients. That’s a very hard thing to pull off.

Tess: I like it when men respond to this film because—I like to think that I just write people. I’m not necessarily only writing the ladies.

It’s not a “chick flick”.
Tess: It’s not a “chick flick” in that sense but at the same time we also want to sell it as a “chick flick” in a good way because it is also a “chick flick” and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s kind of like, “It’s a film!” [laughs] It’s a romantic comedy that men and women, cats and dogs, whoever can go see. Of any sexual preference. Of any whatever. I was saying to someone earlier, I think when you come out of the film you should just feel hopeful. Not necessarily about your love life but about life in general.

Ben: When we did the screening somebody came over to me and grabbed me by my shoulders, a guy, and said, “I loved your film! I’m going to go out there and get myself a girlfriend now!” And he all but spun around and ran out the door.

Tess: And then we were like, “We should film him for a documentary!”

The follow up, Manning Up.
Tess: Yeah, exactly.

When did you first start writing the film?
Tess: Well it actually happened to me. I was under the clock at Waterloo and a guy came up and said, “Are you Claire?” And I said, “No, I’m not Claire.” Then he walked away and I thought, “Maybe I should have said that I was Claire.” Maybe just because I’m single and then I didn’t say that because I’m not a total maniac like Nancy. I then thought, “What a great premise for a set up in a film.” From that moment on I had my cute meet. I could then just run with it.

I also wanted to set something over a small period of time. Just mainly because I’m a lazy writer and I find it much easier when I’m given a sort of contained environment to do something in. Also I just feel like there hasn’t been a one crazy night British movie for a while. It was all based on something that actually happened to me and we were saying earlier I wish I could find that dude and thank him.

Ben: Well this is your opportunity.

Tess: Yes, if you’re out there guy that thought—this is like 5 years ago, probably, October 2010.

Ben: Describe him.

Tess: Kind of light brown hair.

Ben: Right. That’s narrowed it down. Waterloo.

Tess: You were a man.

Ben: You came and said something to her.

Tess: You thought I was Claire, you may be married to Claire now, that’s fantastic if you are. If you’re not…anyway, sorry.

You can throw him into the special thanks for the theatrical.
Tess: Exactly.

Is that a Britishism? The “cute meet”? I usually hear it as “meet cute”.
Tess: Yeah, I say it as “cute meet.” I use the Billy Mernit word. He’s a writer who wrote a brilliant book called Writing the Romantic Comedy.

Ben: Tess is a rom com scientist.

Tess: I am a rom com scientist. Badge.

You’re learned.
Tess: Yes, PhD in Romantic Comedy. [Mernit] calls it the “cute meet” and it’s only recently actually that a few people have gone “meet cute.” I don’t really know, actually.

Ben, at what point did you become involved with the script?
Ben: You’d written the script quite a while ago, hadn’t you?

Tess: Yeah, I wrote it on spec in 2011 and then I think you came on in 2013 from the end of the summer.

Ben: Four or five months before shooting. Got sent the script. I thought I knew what to expect and I had to convince myself that I definitely wouldn’t be doing it. That they’d sent it to the wrong person because I have slightly more cynical, irreverent sort of humor I suppose. The sort of comedy that I normally do.

So I thought—I was away on holiday—I’ll look at this on my phone, I’ll read the first 10 pages maybe and then I’ll politely say no. And I didn’t, I read the whole thing because she’s a brilliant writer. It suckered me in within the first couple of pages and it totally challenged my expectations of a romantic comedy. So I finished that and found my agent and said I’d love to do this.

I know you mentioned that cute meet actually happened to you, but that whole misunderstanding as the impetus for romance it’s kind of a staple of the romantic comedy. Were there influences you were drawing from when you were putting together Man Up?
Tess: I would say what I definitely had a sense of is [that] I wanted to find a modern way to do it. I supposed the one that did it well quite recently was The Proposal but then he’s pretending to be someone else rather than mistaken kind of identity. I wanted to find a way to have two people meet without knowing anything about each other which is very, very difficult in the modern world. I’m basically a bit of an Internet detective. If someone says to me, “Do you wanna get set up with a guy?” Give me a name and a location and I’ll know everything about him. I’m not even on Facebook and I can do that. Sounds a bit stalkery [laughs].

It’s impressive Googling.
Ben: Terrifying Googling.

Tess: But the point is that I thought for the audience [that] I’m not, for the sake of the audience, that I’m not going to make a whole film that is about someone pretending to be someone that they’re not. I didn’t want to do that. I want her to reveal who she is within that end of act one beginning of act two sort of sequence. I definitely thought, “Right. How can I do this and make it believable?”

That’s the thing. Not to be too hard on the romantic comedy but a lot of the ones you see and don’t like it’s just that the believability, the authenticity isn’t there. Is it the characterization of these two, of Nancy, that makes Man Up work much better?
Tess: I think it’s a combo.

Ben: It’s a lot of everything like that.

Tess: I obviously wrote them like that and then we got a dream team of Pegg and Bell to bring them to life for us.

Ben: There’s so many facets that go into it. It’s the storytelling, obviously, and it’s not feeling like you’re being patronized. Or told how to feel. In combination with that you’ve got your two leads. The film effectively lives or dies by the chemistry of those two performances. Those two performers. Thankfully with Simon and Lake they are so brilliant and they had that sort of spark from the first time we did the read through. When Lake came over from the States and sat with Simon we did like one blast through the script. They were so…

Tess: They just liked each other.

Ben: Yeah, they’re funny performers and they would crash each other’s lines. There was a real spark but also it felt very real. It’s how people talk to each other. It’s not heavy handed or cloying.

How did Lake Bell and Simon Pegg first get involved and did you format the script with them in mind?
Tess: Well we got Simon first and that was brilliant because he was actually about six months before Lake. Maybe a bit before. I actually did a draft with Simon. He obviously had some thoughts, some notes, and it was obviously just fantastic for me. I remember him going to me, “Can I sort of, like, send you some notes?” And I was like, “Uh, yes! You’re like one of my favorite writers. Really! Please! Send me your notes!”

So he did that and brought loads more to Jack. I suppose the draft he read maybe was slightly more Nancy-centric, and obviously because Nancy is very much based on sort of…me. I loathe to say that, exposing soul. But you know what I mean, I felt like I had definitely nailed her and I remember Simon saying to me, “I like Jack but he’s a bit of an idiot, isn’t he?” I said, “Yes, that’s exactly what he is.” So it was great having his kind of input. His comic timing is genius obviously.

Then Lake came on board a bit later. It’s quite interesting. Two actors who also write… But it was like a dream scenario. Lake did exactly the same as Simon in terms of offering up her own, “Can I say it like that? What about this?” So really I got incredibly lucky. I can imagine if you got actors that don’t write but want to write. But I had Lake & Simon who were two brilliant writers going to me, like, “What about that bit? What about that bit?” I remember having a big conversation with Simon about the Barbie joke on the train. Lots of stuff like that.

Ben: Based on that read through because they were so messy with their dialog, like we do. You talk over people’s lines, you don’t hold back. That all helps with that authenticity that you’re talking about and that realism. When they did this read through you’re going, “We definitely need to cross-shoot this whole film.”

Which is what we did. Then that gave us the freedom to shoot multiple, multiple takes. So you do those first few takes where you preserve everything in the script and you don’t overlap any of the lines. Then you crank it up faster and faster.

It has that very ping-pongy nature to the dialog. How much of that is in the script and how much of that is just through the rehearsing and practicing of these scenes?
Ben: There’s a lot in the script. There’s a lot in the script straight away and that was the enticing thing from the off. That Tess had captured that dialog and that banter so perfectly.

Tess: I love dialog. It’s my favorite thing—I was going to say in film but just in life. I love listening to how people talk. I’m a bit weird like that, I’ll always have my notepad on me and if people say things—you can’t really be friends with me because things will end up in a film that you have said.

Ben: Let that be a warning.

How different or similar then is it from the one you first wrote or read?
Tess: It’s not different. I mean, obviously I’d say that, I wrote it.

Ben: There’s the usual cutting and trimming just to get that pace and that energy throughout.

Tess: We had a scene that we lost. I don’t know if it’s going to be in the deleted scenes but the “More Than Words” thing. It was quite a key scene where Simon and Lake sing “More Than Words” by Extreme. We have to put that on the internet somewhere at some point. But the problem is they got too good at it, they were too good at singing. They were like amazing.

Ben: There was restructuring as we were going along just a little bit. But I think because it was tightly script, the final film feels like there should be elements of improvisation in there because there’s a naturalism to it. There’s obviously quite heightened, big set pieces, but the core of it feels very realistic.

In a way it’s a compliment if people think that people think it isn’t heavily scripted. It means you’re doing something right. I think that was the approach, making those characters and that dialog feel as real and as honest as possible so then when you hit those more farcical set pieces you believe those characters and you roll with it. You don’t question it in a way.

There’s some very big moments and Sean is quite a heightened character but your bedrock of Jack and Nancy, you’re in and you’ve got them. So people just buy it after then.

And there’s a building to that absurdity as well.
Tess: Yeah, exactly. It builds. When I watch it now with people seeing it for the first time I’m really acutely aware how in the third act people suddenly go, “Ahhh.” Because I think they suddenly realize what’s been plotted for them. Someone was saying the second time they saw it they got even more from it the second time. I think there are quite a lot of jokes that maybe you could miss in the first viewing of it. Basically pay to go and see it twice.

Ben: It’s a very mercenary approach. But you need to I think.

Tess: Yes. Twice. Twice viewed.

Kriv Stenders’ Kill Me Three Times, isn’t just a movie, it’s a state of mind. By which I mean, in watching the film one rather starts to hope not once but at least three times, that either the film or the viewer will be allowed the release of death. Ok, I’m being melodramatic. But Kill Me Three Times is melocomedic, so I think I’m justified. Stenders claims in his press notes to have wanted to create a popcorn film, and his hitman comedy of errors starts out on the right track, intriguingly telling its story backwards, but its inside-out layers quickly spiral out of control in a bloody frenzy that will cause most viewers to leave any appetite for popcorn on the floor of the theater.

Starting at the end, Simon Pegg (who must have owed someone a favor in between Mission: Impossible and Star Trek films) is hitman Charlie Wolfe, and he’s in rather a pickle. A rare scenario we come to see for this ruthless and self-assured criminal, who we see adeptly taking out a dude as he backtracks how he came to be in his current bind. Charlie starts following a woman, Alice (Alice Braga), who is clearly his next target. But before he can carry out the job, she makes a stop at the office of dentist Nathan (Sullivan Stapleton) and his wife Lucy (Teresa Palmer). Charlie watches as Nathan and Lucy surprisingly knock out Alice and put her in the trunk of their car. As Charlie follows he watches as the amateur husband and wife team enact a scheme to collect life insurance on Lucy by mixing up their dental records, putting the unconscious Alice in the driver’s seat of Lucy’s car before setting it on fire, and sending it off a cliff. Charlie leaves, satisfied his job was just done for him, but in the next segment we flash further back to learn the motivations behind Charlie’s hiring by Alice’s abusive husband—who rightly suspects her of cheating with gas station attendant Dylan (Luke Hemsworth)—and the financial troubles that have led to Lucy and Nathan’s fumbled murderous plans.

When the film goes in for its third, and most convoluted, layer of the story it starts to arc back to the present and just how out of control everyone’s master plans go. In this sort of film a certain level of double-crossing is a given, and yes it can be funny when the double-crossing borders on the ridiculous, but the levels of treachery revealed in the last 15 or so minutes of the film aren’t at all driven by plot and appear to be thrown in for the sake of blood and gore. It’s one thing to be Quentin Tarantino and start off a film at gore levels around 8, quickly elevating to 10 to show he means business, and then escalating to levels around 15 to prove he’s discovered blood-thresholds you didn’t know possible. But starting and maintaining about a 2 and then suddenly erupting into an 8 is just confusing, and like I said earlier, a real appetite suppressant.

Pegg does his best to keep the comedy playful, though Charlie is written like most cocksure hitman, and rather plays into expectations with his bravado and hardness. He’s clearly the most underutilized asset the film has and it’s a tragedy watching him adhere to a script hardly worth his notice. Nathan and Lucy’s storyline is the easiest to laugh at as the mismatched couple fight over their ambitious plan to make some quick money, but their mutual animosity rather ensures their destruction, so there’s no real surprises in their storyline. Braga is the most compelling to watch, fighting for her life and seeking revenge. Hemsworth’s role is minimal, but like all the Hemsworth men, whether by muscle or emotion, makes his presence known. If there is a star of the film it ends up being the Australian coastline, present in almost every scene and rather distracting in how much more appealing it is to everything else happening. And while the bright and airy atmosphere may have played off interestingly against a black comedy, this comedy isn’t nearly dark enough to contrast.

With its layered backwards style, the film moves along at a rather stop-and-go pace; like a student driver using a little too much gas and a little too much pressure on the break. But instead of whiplash, the more likely result of Kill Me Three Times is a general sense of nausea and a lingering feeling that Stenders missed an exit somewhere along the line.

In recent years the unthinkable has happened: zombies are finally mainstream. It wasn’t until the 1960s that zombies began to increase in popularity thanks to George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead, but they’ve always been on the sidelines of pop culture. Now, with The Walking Dead becoming one of TV’s highest-rated shows, and World War Z making over half a billion dollars worldwide, we can safely say that zombies are “in” right now.

Director Alexandre O. Philippe (The People vs. George Lucas), a self-professed zombie fan since age 6, realized that no one has made a definitive documentary about the zombie. Now Philippe has changed that with his new film Doc of the Dead, a fun documentary exploring the history of zombie culture along with how popular the undead have become today. Philippe interviews people like George A. Romero, Simon Pegg, Bruce Campbell, Tom Savini, and many more, including “zombie scholars.” The film serves as a light, breezy crash course in zombie history while simultaneously exploring all the various ways zombies have embedded themselves into pop culture.

Doc of the Dead screened earlier this year at Hot Docs 2014, and Alexandre O. Philippe was kind enough to sit down with us and discuss his film. For US readers, you can currently see Doc of the Dead right now on Netflix Instant, Amazon Prime, or Epix HD. Canadian audiences will be lucky enough to catch Doc of the Dead on the big screen though, as it will begin to make its way across Cineplex theatres in Canada starting July 11th. See all dates and locations HERE and be sure to read our full interview below!

I’m not aware of any documentaries other than yours that try to make a definitive film about zombies. What made you decide to tackle this subject matter?
I do a lot of pop culture oriented documentaries, so I always try to keep my finger on the pulse of pop culture and trends, what’s happening right now, what’s hot. A few years ago zombies were starting to get into the mainstream in a really big way and I really set out to explore why it’s happening now. I also happen to be a horror fan. I’ve been watching zombie movies since I was 6 years old, so it seemed like a perfect fit.

How long did it take you to make the film?
Two years. I had the idea initially 5 years ago but I was finishing People vs George Lucas and I had committed to The Life and Times of Paul the Psychic Octopus, so really I didn’t get to start until 2 years ago. It turned out to be a really good thing because I was able to catch the wave of The Walking Dead becoming so popular, along with World War Z coming out in theatres. So now I think it’s the perfect time to release a zombie doc.

With this and People vs George Lucas you seem to be making documentaries some would describe as “geeky” or “nerdy.” Are you naturally attracted to these kinds of topics?
Yes, I’m naturally a geek if that’s your question [Laughs]. I’m proud of it. I’m really fascinated by pop culture. I think it’s an extremely important cultural aspect to study and take seriously because it’s fun, and it brings people together. There’s a lot we can learn from pop culture in terms of who we are. When 2 billion people download “Gangnam Style” on YouTube you can’t call it trivial. You have to look at it and say “What is it about this thing that people are so crazy about?” It’s just as valid as some of the heavier or darker topics in other documentaries. That’s why I do it.

Your film covers a lot of ground with such a short runtime. You zip through a lot of information in a very accessible way. How do you structure your film and decide on what to cover?
We had to look at the milestones of zombie culture, the milestones that are part of the answer to the question “Why are zombies so popular today?” This is the way pop culture works. You have several milestones, and then you have a tipping point. All these milestones pile up and they lead to that moment where suddenly it goes from fringe culture to mainstream. This is exactly what happened with zombies.

What are the milestones? Obviously 1968 because of Night of the Living Dead and the other Romero movies coming out after that. Return of the Living Dead because the idea of zombies eating brains comes from that. The Walking Dead was probably the tipping point, as well as World War Z being the first huge Hollywood zombie movie. It’s the first PG-13 huge zombie movie. That’s a game changer. Whether you like it or not it changed everything for zombies.

Did you have any difficulties deciding what areas of zombie films you couldn’t include in the film?
I had to make some really tough decisions in terms of what to include and exclude. People have asked me “Why didn’t you include Lucio Fulci?” or “Why didn’t you include Nazi Zombies?” or whatever. The problem is that if you start getting into that you’re going to have a five hour film. I had to take the shortest route to get to the point of zombie culture. Zombie walks, zombie car washes, zombie runs, all of that stuff right now.

You have a lot of interviews with big names in zombie culture. Was there anyone you really wanted to include but couldn’t?
To be honest I think we got all the important ones. The one I was hoping to get was Danny Boyle, but I knew we wouldn’t get him because he doesn’t think he’s made a zombie movie. So if you approach him saying you’re making a documentary about zombie movies he’s not going to talk to you. I’m not entirely surprised we didn’t get him, but [I think] he made a zombie movie. Sorry Danny! [Laughs]

You dedicate some time to the debate between fast and slow zombies in your film. Where do you stand on fast and slow zombies?
I tend to be very inclusive. There is no one definition of the zombie. I would actually argue that Invasion of the Body Snatchers is actually a form of zombie movie. I’m not talking about the modern flesh-eating zombie we know from Romero’s movies. To me the zombie is the idea that you’re looking at someone you used to know who no longer is capable of thought or emotion. Heck, the Borgs in Star Trek are a form of zombie. I enjoy them all if they’re done well.

Was there anything in your research that surprised you?
When we found out that there’s a clause in the Haitian penal code stating that turning people into zombies is prohibited by law. It’s pretty freaky stuff. When we interviewed Max Beauvoir, who is essentially the Pope of Voodoo in Haiti, he talks about zombification as if it’s just something they do. It’s a spiritual thing is what he says. If that’s not evidence that zombification exists, then what is? It’s pretty freaky stuff.

You let your interview subjects speak a lot on what they personally find fascinating about zombies, so I wanted to ask you the same thing. What is it about zombies that resonates with you?
The obvious answer is that I’m a horror fan and it gives me thrills. Besides that, I think the zombie is really interesting because they’re us and, in that sense, a blank slate. You can project anything you want [on them]. You can think of any theme and use zombies as a story to express that theme. That’s what’s really exciting. I think they’re much more versatile as a movie monster than vampires and werewolves. I think that’s what the world is waking up to right now, their versatility. And I don’t think we’re seeing the end of it, either. Not by a long shot.

In dance-comedy Cuban Fury, directed by James Griffiths, Nick Frost plays Bruce Garrett, a former childhood salsa prodigy who was bullied out of the ballroom to never return. Now in his late 30’s, Bruce is an overweight, insecure pushover who works a desk job. When his new boss Julia (Rashida Jones) catches his eye, he’s suddenly compelled to pick up dancing again to impress her (she salsas herself). Standing in his way is his jerk co-worker Drew (Chris O’Dowd), who’s made it his mission to beat Bruce to the punch and steal Julia’s heart. With the help of his old salsa instructor (Ian McShane), Bruce rediscovers salsa and begins to shed the layers of self-doubt.

Frost, best known for the “Cornetto Trilogy” (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, The World’s End), his beloved collaborations with buddies Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright, steps into the spotlight without his famous cohorts in Fury to make a delightful comedy with heart, though he had a personal stake in the production as well. In the following edited roundtable interview with other members of the press, we spoke with Frost about using the movie to get over his fear of dancing, a near-violent, on-set mental breakdown, whether there will be more Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright projects, respecting the salsa community, and more.

How important was it that you do all the dancing in the movie?

Nick: I think it was the crux of it. In terms of me and my motives for wanting to do a dance film and the terror that dancing in front of people brought to me at that point, it was all a part of my catharsis, my incredibly expensive therapy session. I messed our wedding up by not wanting to dance with my wife. We had a dance all picked out, but when it came down to it, it was like grade school where I put my hands on her shoulders, we did this a bit (motions swaying back and forth), and then all of our aunties got on the floor and got it going again. I thought, I shouldn’t have to feel like that, you know? I’m an actor and I do scenes in front of 200 cast and crew every day. I shouldn’t be afraid of dancing.

I think there’s a stigma to being a big man who can dance and enjoys it. There’s a look that people give you, as if they somehow feel sorry for you or somehow say, “You go for it, big guy!” Some sort of patronizing “attaboy”. That makes me so cross. That was part of my reason to want to dance, and I think it kind of helped it get green-lit, really. We could have easily done that thing where you just show my top half moving, show an audience reaction, and then feet. There are a couple of those, [but] 98 percent of it is me. Why wouldn’t you want it to look beautiful? That’s the charm of it, that you see Bruce Garrett doing it.

There’s no Oscar for amount of effort put into a comedy. If it was Daniel Day Lewis putting 7 months training into becoming some kind of man who stuffs animals, people would say, “Wow. His dedication to the role is admirable.” But for a romantic comedy about a big man who woos a girl through the medium of salsa, no one gives a shit about your training. (laughs)

The theme of the film is discovering self-confidence. Is there a breakthrough moment you recall when you realized you don’t need to be insecure about dancing anymore?

Nick: No, because it never got easier. There was never a moment where they unplug a wire from your head, your eyes flicker and you say, “I know Pachanga!” That never happened. I don’t want to seem down, because I loved it. When you watch ten minutes of the film and all of that is me I think, “That’s why I did that.” When you’re in it, it’s like, “Fucking hell, when’s this going to end!”

I became a dancer, you know? Also, I didn’t want to lose weight. I wanted to still be a big lump, so I could eat giant steaks in the morning, 50 bananas a day, a whole chicken…it was like a dream for me! I dressed like a dancer, with leggings on and bands in my hair. I’d find myself sat in a room with fifteen 18-year-old ballerinas. “Just been having a fucking stretch!” I became that dancer.

Were there any breakdown moments?

Nick: Twice I had to leave because I started crying in front of people. Once I was going to hit Richard Marcel, who was my choreographer. I don’t like to be manhandled. I don’t like it. It got to a point at 3 in the afternoon where we’d been dancing since 8 am. I got to that point where he’d be talking to me in English and I would be [hearing Mandarin]. “I don’t know what you want from me!” You know? He moved me [with his hands]. I had that spinach moment (mimics Popeye), but it was too much. He’s only a little thing. I would murder him. I had that thing where my voice kind of went quite high. (In a high voice) “Don’t fucking touch me!” He tried to calm me down and I kind of started to cry in front of him, and then I went into the bathroom. There was a bunch of beautiful-shaped ballerina boys, 18-years-old, no tops on. Just amazing! Then this big fucking gorilla comes charging to the toilet in tears. They were like, “You alright?” and I said, “Just fucking leave me alone!” I went back into the studio eventually, grabbed my kit bag and said (in a high voice), “I’m going home!” That was twice that happened.

Did you find it difficult incorporating a comedy element without disrespecting die-hard fans of dance?

Nick: No, not really. It was never about taking the piss out of salsa. Also, literally spending five minutes with the Latino community in London you realize that, should you disrespect that, you have a big problem on your hands, because that’s the thing those people love more than anything in the world. I was very keen that [salsa] be respected. As soon as the community realized that that was our motive, they couldn’t have helped us more in terms of support and making themselves available for training. Sometimes on a Tuesday morning we’d get 20 dancers in and just spend the morning dancing, which was amazing.

The best lesson I ever did, this Cuban kid would put a tape in, and it was just me and him. I’m a reserved English man. He’d take his vest off, the music would start, and he’d just stand in front of me and kind of pop my chest and let me feel it. I couldn’t do it to start with. “I can’t understand what you’re doing to me! I kind of like it, but…” (laughs) The whole point was that he’d say, “If you don’t feel this…forget it.” He’d put his vest on and go home. That was what my lessons were, little bits like that. It’s only at the last minute, month seven, when you realize, “Oh. That’s what they did.” It wasn’t just choreography, which I could’ve learned in a month. It was making me a dancer.

How did you find playing the lead character as compared to your roles in Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead?

Nick: I’ve got to say, it didn’t feel any different at all. The things about Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, and The World’s End is that it is a three-way collaboration. Even though Simon was number 1 on the call sheet, I never felt anything but collaborating with Edgar and Simon. In terms of ego, there’s no space for it on our sets. When you do this and you’re not the funniest person on set, you can rumble about it and think, “Why haven’t I got the funniest lines?”, or you can sit back and think, well, it is for the good of the film. If it’s good for the film, it’s good for me. It didn’t bother me. I had the idea, I produced it, I’m starring in it. You can’t do much more. I’m happy to sit back and watch Chris [O’Dowd] and Kayvan [Novak]. I like what they do.

Did you choose Chris to be in the film?

Nick: I think he kind of chose himself. I’ve known him for years and out of everyone I’ve worked with, Chris is the one I have trouble looking in the eyes. He makes me laugh. He improvises a lot, and to improvise you need to know a lot of  things that not only fit but push the story forward, too. It’s difficult acting against it, because if you know it’s coming, you can prepare yourself for it. But when that thing is constantly changing, it’s hard to prepare yourself. If you notice, I don’t look at him in the eye at all until the end. The fact is, I just couldn’t look him in the eye. (laughs)

Why salsa, and what was it like working with a writer other than Simon?

Nick: Ballroom had been done by Baz Luhrmann. Strictly Ballroom was a touchstone for this film. The acting’s fantastic, the comedy’s funny, the drama is dramatic, and the dancing is real and beautiful to look at. That’s what we tried to do. It had to be a dance where there’s physical contact between a man and a woman. It could have been tango, but salsa looks beautiful on screen. The colors and sequins are very cinematic. I think it could have been twerking. (laughs) What an awful movie that would be.

I didn’t want to write the film. It takes so long to write a film that you’re then out of the loop for other acting jobs. Me and Simon took so long to write Paul, and that was two years where we weren’t making a film. We’d known Jon Brown for a while and we got on really well. I said, “These are the characters, this is what I think it should be. Go for it!” He wrote a great first draft. He did it in, like, twelve weeks. It was amazing. If you’re going to not write a film and give it to Jon Brown, what you can’t do is meddle. You have to trust him to get on with it. Otherwise, you might as well have written it yourself.

Was there ever a vocation or hobby you took up that got derailed and you wish you’d stuck with?

Nick: Rugby. I played rugby from age 7 to 21. I was at a point in my life where I think I probably could have been pretty good at it, but it came when I discovered weed and girls. I was playing on a team called London Nigeria, and I was the only white player on the team, the first white player to train with London Nigeria. The thing about London Nigeria is, A: They’re fucking massive. B: They used to fist fight a lot during training. You have to make that decision: Do I want to be hit in the face by a 6’8 Nigerian man on a Tuesday night, or am I going to smoke a bowl and try to get off with this beautiful waitress? I chose [the latter]. I stick by my choice, but I loved playing rugby.

News broke that you’re going to do Sober Companion. What was it about that project that appealed to you to make that potential kind of commitment and what might that might mean for your career?

Nick: I think my career is alright as it is. I don’t lie awake thinking, “Fuck. How’s my son going to go to school?” I’m really excited about it and pretty nervous, because I don’t know how this works. All I know is, I was offered this role of an alcoholic lawyer. It’s a great script, and I love Justin Long. I say no to a lot of stuff, and it really annoys my wife. I thought, you have to say yes to something at some point, and this was it. If it’s picked up for six years and goes and goes and goes, that’s a big commitment. If you look at it as six years, that’s a long time. But if you look at it season by season, it’s not so bad.

If you made a sequel to Cuban Fury, what would it be like?

Nick: We’ve thought about this, actually. We thought it would be Bruce and Bejan going to Tehran to open Tehran’s first salsa club. We thought it would be a cross between something Baz Luhrmann would do and Argo. (laughs) Smuggle me in wearing a rhinestone-covered burkha. He’d find a giant old building that was a club at one point and turn it into a hot new night club.

What was your favorite dance scene to shoot?

Nick: The finale. Me, not wanting to dance in front of people, and then there were 600 people in that club, 450 of which some of the world’s best salsa dancers. They stood there for eight days and cheered us on. That dance is cut to pieces, and we shot different parts, as you do, but there were ten or so takes where we shot three cameras as wides and I did the whole dance, top to bottom. It felt amazing. I don’t usually like feeling like that. I never like feeling like, “Oh, you’re doing well!” I always like to punish and doubt myself, but I couldn’t help myself. I could feel the salsa community willing me on, and it was amazing.

What about the car park scene?

Nick: That was a pain in the hole. We chose the five hottest days of the year in London. When it’s hot in London, it’s horrible. It’s like being in Cairo; it’s relentless. 97 degrees. I got injured lifting Chris over my head, I had to have treatment, and they sent me home for the day. Which is terrible on a film set, for the star to go home. If you’re on a $200 million budget it’s like, “Fuck it! You can have a week off if you want.” When you’re the star and producer, you know you can’t not be on set.

Are we going to see another Simon Pegg-Nick Frost collaboration?

Nick: Absolutely. It might not be for a few years, but we have a good idea that makes us laugh. We think about it a lot. We’ll wait for Edgar to finish Ant-Man, and after ten years, when Sober Companion is finished and I can start doing movies again. (laughs)

Crispian Mills’ A Fantastic Fear of Everything, while it falls short of being fantastic itself, offers a character study in what it is like to be an individual coming to terms with past childhood experiences. Enter Jack (Simon Pegg), a children’s author dealing with severe abandonment issues that have over the years translated into an irrational fear of pretty much everything, as the title implies.

Throughout the first half of the film, we get to know Jack as an emotional wreck, who can’t quite seem to get his life together. The premise is similar to many other films of the same genre, in that we see an individual on the verge of success but there is something holding them back. In this case it is Jack’s own mental state and as the film progresses he slips further and further into his world of paranoia.

A meeting with his agent (Clare Higgins) set’s the plot in motion as she sets up a meeting with a Hollywood producer interested in Jack’s latest project Decades of Death. This could be the big break that Jack needs to get out of his rut. If only he could muster up the courage to go out and…get a suit! As he gets ready for the meeting he becomes convinced that this producer he is slated to meet is somehow related to one of the murderers whose pictures line the walls of his apartment. He also realizes that he does not own a suit, and that he needs to do laundry in order to at least have something presentable to wear, if he decides to actually make it to the meeting. Coming to the realization of this fact, he grows even more fearful as we learn that the launderette is where his insecurity stems from for this is the exact location where he was abandoned as a child.

The film is shot in a very unique manner, which aids in demonstrating how far gone Jack truly is. For much of the first half of the film, he’s clad in his robe and underwear as he frantically makes his way through his apartment. The flat is eery and dark in atmosphere, as Jack flees from shadows looming around almost every corner. The angles and the lighting in which it is shot lend themselves nicely to the hallucinations and distorted vantage point that crowd out Jack’s ability to think clearly. He fears the outside world, so much so that he does not dare risk his life to leave his home, even to go to the launderette to do his dirty laundry. Pegg’s delivery is convincing and it’s easy to believe there truly is someone out to get him.

Pegg is the strongest part of this film and as usual delivers the necessary comedic highlights in the film. However, as great of a character actor as Pegg is, this is not enough, as much of the time Pegg is a “one man show” and though he is fully committed to the role and he tries to keep the plot alive, it still manages to fall short of what it could be.

The second half of the movie comes across as disjointed, as Jack finally makes his way to the launderette, and sets off an unraveling of events where he almost meets an untimely end. Rather than helping to drive the story along, this action sequences only succeeds in confusing us further and adding to an already drawn out story. Through it all, Jack eventually comes to terms with and faces his fears and ultimately recovers his lost self, acknowledging that the defense mechanisms he put into place actually played a role in his recovery.

One important principle can be gleaned from this film, that at the end of it all, no matter how difficult it may be to get ourselves out of painful situations, once released from the things that haunt us, we may truly be able to move on.

A Fantastic Fear of Everything trailer