In We Bury the Dead (2026), survival is no longer just about outrunning the undead — it’s about confronting the ghosts we carry within. Set in a world where graves serve no purpose and the dead claw their way back into existence, this apocalyptic thriller turns every shadow into a threat and every memory into a battlefield.

The film opens with a grim landscape, scorched towns, and silent ruins — a world that looks buried, yet refuses to stay dead. Humanity lives in fragments, clinging to scraps of hope while the undead roam unchecked. The tone is bleak, but never hopeless — tragedy and purpose hang in the air like ash.
Norman Reedus anchors the story with a weathered soul and haunted intensity. His character bleeds guilt and resolve, refusing to lie down even when the past drags at his heels. He isn’t just fighting zombies — he’s fighting himself.

Standing beside him, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson is raw force and unbreakable will. His presence brings thunder to the wasteland — a protector who refuses to let collapse define their last days. Yet beneath that armor lies fear, doubt, and the ache of loss that shadows every survivor.
Andrew Lincoln once again becomes the mind — calculating, steady, watching for threats both living and undead. His strategies hold the fragile group together even as their trust frays, creating some of the film’s most gripping human conflicts.
Then there is Milla Jovovich — a storm wrapped in mystery. Her character walks with secrets sharp enough to kill, and as the journey unfolds, her past becomes not just backstory but a weapon — or a curse. She is the film’s wildcard, unpredictable and essential.

What elevates We Bury the Dead beyond typical survival horror is its willingness to dig deeper. The undead are terrifying, yes — but the real monsters are the buried traumas that refuse to stay silent. Every step forward forces the characters to face who they were before the world ended, and whether they deserve to survive it.
Gorgeous yet devastating cinematography paints the apocalypse with poetic violence — broken churches, abandoned highways, forests of bones. Each frame feels like a tombstone, reminding us that survival has a price.
The action is relentless — close combat in shattered corridors, desperate gunfights in fog-covered ruins, and heart-pounding escapes where the undead rise from the very soil beneath their feet. But it’s the quiet moments — confessions by firelight, breakdowns in empty chapels — that give the story its weight.

By the film’s end, one truth becomes clear: before humanity can bury the dead, it must first confront the past it refused to face.
A chilling, emotional, and brutally immersive experience, We Bury the Dead stands as a gripping reminder that the apocalypse doesn’t just expose monsters — it reveals the ones we already were.
Prepare for a dark descent — not only into the undead wasteland, but into the hearts of those still living within it.