Die Before You Die (2024) Claustrophobic Thriller buries deep into the Modern Zeitgeist (Review)

Is there a worse fate than being buried alive, trapped in the darkness, running out of air, undiscoverable to the rest of the world? It’s everyone’s worst nightmare and then some, but as you’re clinging to what little light, breath and life you have left, what’s happening to not just your body, but your mind? Are you in an underground cocoon, changing, growing, maybe even mutating? All of these questions are on the mind of the disarmingly thoughtful Die Before You Die – a methodical and lived-in thriller by British indie rising star Dan Pringle that takes a well-worn one-location concept and explores it in beautiful and bold new directions.

Pringle’s co-writer Ziad Abaza leads as Adi, a hyped-up hyper-masculine influencer whose ear-splitting content struggles to be the loudest voice in the room. He knows his prank videos just aren’t what they used to be, and he can barely get through one without gnawing self-doubt stopping him in his tracks. He’s running out of ideas fast when a chance encounter with Lee, a stranger in a shisha bar (Eastenders’ Harry Reid), gives him a new concept – get buried alive for three days and emerge a new person. With fellow influencer Maz (Mim Shaikh) in tow, they show up with smartphones at the ready to document the experience, but are greeted by a group of stony-faced Islamic elders who aren’t mad-keen on the burial being broadcast online. Trapped underground with only a dirty PVC pipe for air and water and a plastic monkey for company, Adi’s golden opportunity soon becomes a life-or-death struggle six feet under the earth.

From that, it’s clear that the elevator pitch for this is “Buried with a spiritual edge”, which Pringle and Abaza clearly know. Buried remains among the most challenging thrillers of recent memory, and just trying to pull off the same trick but with a British lead would have been a foolhardy endeavour. Instead, by some miracle, Pringle and Abaza widen the scope and lose very little of the peril in the process. The opening act is painstakingly paced, with Adi’s journey from the comforts of home to the cold bleakness of an unmarked grave being so well-drawn, you can feel each heap of dirt being piled on before he even starts the challenge.

There’s plenty of character-building in this stretch too, with the brotherly bond between Adi and Maz giving them both something to fight for, and their fish-out-of-water interactions with their suspicious would-be captors bearing some fascinating subtextual fruit. They’re both taken aback when white man Lee speaks better Arabic than both of them combined, and they’re surprised by the burial being less of a challenge and more of a ritual, which draws a rich and confrontational picture of being a Muslim in the modern world. 

Abaza and Pringle’s screenplay takes inspiration from Muslim polymath Al-Ghazali, who lived during the 11th and 12th centuries and is still revered for his spiritual teachings centred around rebirth. The drama thickens considerably as the layers of Adi’s plight and anxieties are peeled back, building to a finale that is both suffocating and breath-taking. Faith-based cinema has rarely been so well-judged, with a challenging cynicism about religion’s place in an increasingly mercenary, digital world, balanced against the morally-dubious tactics employed by those wishing to gain popularity – whether they’re the leader of a mosque or a vapid TikToker whose just in it for the clicks. By the end, the audience will be reborn too, with a fresh perspective on all the things Pringle and Abaza bring to the table with their well-informed ideas.

It’s also heartening that Abaza turns in a great performance as a preening product of the internet, having his edges sanded off by the most humbling experience imaginable. He begins at an appropriately grating level, shadowboxing in his spare room studio, and filling the air with the type of toxic energy reserved for the most soulless of stars. When underground, he has the tough job of being in dialogue with himself, wrestling with being the angel, devil and little plastic monkey on his shoulder as he self-flagellates with torment and regret. While this movement can feel a little lax (the ratcheting tension is occasionally stop-start and the time frame is sometimes inconsistent), Abaza’s frustration and fear is palpable, and is a strong calling card for future roles that could mean great work in drama and horror alike. He has to shoulder the entire film, and does so with aplomb – making Adi’s hellish endurance test into a sympathetic and compelling experience from beginning to end.

Tense and thought-provoking in the same breath, it’s entirely possible Die Before You Die will leave you breathless. The plot is often difficult to swallow, from its troublesome protagonist to its claustrophobic setting, but any viewer willing to descend into its dark yet illuminating little world may emerge calmer, purer, and maybe even stronger.

Simon’s Archive – Die Before You Die