“When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth..."
55 years ago, George Romero helped incept the modern era of horror filmmaking with Night of the Living Dead, with a grittier, claustrophobic atmosphere and (almost accidental) sense of grim satire—then a decade later, he codified it further with Dawn of the Dead. Decades of zombie-themed media, be it all sixty seasons of Walking Dead or countless videogames, all boil down to this one, complete with the aesthetics and cynical sense of social commentary.
As far as his landmark films go, I honestly preferred Night—with its confined sensibility, its relatively back to basics feel of people just struggling to survive amid themselves in what’s more like a natural disaster than an apocalypse (subverting a lot of assumptions in similar future works, as this one also does to an extent). Nevertheless, Dawn of the Dead was far more influential with its visuals, and took that same distrust in institutions that was spelt out at the end of the previous film to the next level.
The premise is by now a familiar one—a zombie plague has appeared out of nowhere, and society is going to hell in a hand basket. The opening scenes I do enjoy—news stations desperately trying to keep up with the collapse before going to pieces themselves, and in between it all, SWAT teams and racist cops are still trying to raid projects and maintain order by the end of an M16 if need be. Two of the less rabid cops—played by Ken Foree in his defining role and David Emge—decide to skedaddle by way of helicopter, and end up holed up in an abandoned Pennsylvanian mall with one other survivor.
 |
| Insert Black Friday joke here. |
The cinematography has that minimalist, stagey sense Romero employed, but the hyperreal colors from flesh to zombified skin give it a memorable look for sure—and, well, another iconic element is the mall setting. Not just a jab at consumerism—but the characters even get bored after lounging around there (there are some slower scenes showcasing this, which are the weaker part of the film—I get the message conveyed but with how things are shot it perhaps conveys the atmosphere in not quite the best way). You think you’d like just being able to do what you please in a temple of materialism, it asks? Without wider society to share it with, without decent company, what does it all matter really?
And of course with Romero, the true threat is not really the shamblers but other humans—with the biker gang that shows up at the end, among them horror effects legend Tom Savini (whose best performance still remains in From Dusk Til Dawn). It was the seventies, cynicism and malaise the style, so naturally, things all come crashing down. But once again, those stylized, bright effects bring us the on the nose entertainment we need.
Dawn of the Dead is overly slow in parts by modern sensibilities, but in many respects, that minimal feel makes it feel ever so much more creepier—and the essential themes, blunt as they may be, remain all too relevant. Personally, though, I preferred the followup Day of the Dead—with a better and more interesting visual sense and design, more interesting interactions, and making its human villains truly detestable.
That idea of the apocalypse being simply the excuse for the worse side of human nature to rear itself is something lost in so many imitators 45 years since—there’s no badass survivalists counting kills, no rebels from authority finally living the dream—everything is just one mistake away from joining the undead. And, at least, that sense was retained in the 2004 remake from Zack Snyder, which I must say is up there as horror remakes go—the same basic elements remain, but the characters and situations expanded and mixed up, helping it to stand on its own. While more stylized and modern, the remake did a decent job at transplanting the feel of Romero into the 21st century, something others only did superficially.
Romero himself eventually returned to zombie works in the 2000s, but something got lost on the way—the commentary became too on the nose even for him perhaps, or his sensibilities didn’t jive in the CGI age. And with so many zombie works across media over the last half-century, sometimes it feels like so much mindless groaning—but, strip away a lot of the assumptions and tropes, one can still find that sense of grit and unsettling atmosphere in the originals.
After all, you can’t just copy an original—eventually, all you’ve got left is a zombie of an idea…
Comments
Post a Comment