For obvious reasons, I normally like to reserve my Friday entries for the latest and greatest new weekend releases. This time, however, a bit of bad luck forced my hand. Earlier today, I had sat down at the Lloyd Center 10 to catch a new movie (which shall remain nameless for now), but I barely got 30 seconds in. Halfway through the studio intro, the sound completely disappeared and the bottom half of the screen went black. A short time later, it was obvious that I was missing a crucial part of the film. Because I felt my ability to fairly judge the movie had been compromised and because I had other things to do, I got my money back and left the theater. I still have every intention of seeing and reviewing it, but not until tomorrow.
Until then, in recognition of this fine holiday weekend, I may as well take the opportunity to scratch an itch that’s been irritating me for a very long time. In fact, the itch is more like a giant gaping hole in my movie knowledge, marked with the name of George A. Romero.
Though every decent cinephile is familiar with what Romero’s work hath wrought, I cannot claim to have seen a single one of his movies. Fortunately, Hulu is offering Romero’s debut feature for online streaming at no charge. I’m sure it helps that the movie was accidentally made public domain, but I digress. The beginning of Romero’s work sounds like a very good place to start, so let’s take a look at Night of the Living Dead.
Right off the bat, I could tell that this is a no-budget movie. The zombies here look comparable to the undead in Plan 9 from Outer Space, which was made nine years prior. The screenplay is ridiculous, the acting is bland, the camera work is a little shaky, the boom mic leaves a visible shadow in several places, the editing is choppy, and the sound design laughably puts in a roar of thunder when a shambling zombie appears onscreen. And yet it still looks better-produced than most no-budget movies made over forty years later. This realization leads me to wonder: Do amateur filmmakers today really suck so badly, or was Romero just that good?
In either case, this movie shows a great deal of tropes and ideas that have become so prominent in the years since. A chase scene that involves tripping inconveniently and/or a car that won’t start for whatever reason? Check. A douchebag that gets killed off early? Check. A character who goes catatonic and immediately gives up all hope of survival? Check. A pompous hothead who fancies himself the savior and master strategist? Check. Characters practically telegraphing when they’re going to die? Check. A loved one getting infected? Check. People fighting amongst each other for petty reasons while stuck in a claustrophobic setting? Big fucking check.
As a matter of fact, the wooden acting pretty much ends with the first zombie attack. Duane Jones describes a zombie attack with such pathos that listening to him monologue is almost as effective as actually seeing the scene. Meanwhile, Judith O’Dea does a very admirable job of completely falling to pieces and losing her damn mind. Likewise, the rest of the actors do a very good job of delivering their lines with the appropriate mix of logic and panic. Of course, none of the performances help distract from the fact that these characters are two-dimensional and terribly written. O’Dea’s character is probably the best example, as she ends up contributing absolutely nothing to the plot.
Of course, not all of the stereotypes are here and accounted for. The horny teenagers (probably too much even for 1968) have been replaced by a sensible and chaste young couple, and the know-it-all (very much a post-Scream creation, to my understanding) is completely absent altogether. But in my opinion, perhaps the most notable shift in expectations is that the black man — usually among the first to die in a modern horror film — is the hero of the piece. I personally found that to be a very refreshing change of pace, especially from a time on the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement.
As for the zombies themselves, they’re pretty much exactly as we know and love them today. They eat flesh, they’re very stupid, and they can only be killed from a shot to the head. Granted, not all of them look completely decomposed, but it’s harder to tell in black and white. Plus, one of the great things about zombies is that they can be made to look half-decent with a minimum of work. Anyone can make a zombie or a vampire that looks passable with just $15 worth of makeup. Just try using that same amount of cash for a werewolf, a robot, or an alien that doesn’t look laughably bad. But I digress.
The movie does give its zombies a few unique traits that have been dropped in the decades since, and rightfully so. For example, these zombies show the ability to pick up and use weapons and tools. There’s something less savage and brutal about creatures that kill prey and break down doors with whatever device is lying around, as opposed to doing the same tasks with their bare hands. Plus, how are they supposed to do these things when their higher brain functions have ceased to exist? Secondly, the zombies are shown to be afraid of fire. They can shrug off a bullet to the chest without a problem, but they can’t stand the threat of getting burned. I have no idea why.
But in my opinion, the most intriguing change comes with a single throwaway line of dialogue. Via a news report, officials at NASA voice the tentative belief that the epidemic is being caused by radiation that’s bombarding Earth. All well and good, except that as long as the radiation is in effect, anyone who dies for any reason becomes a zombie. Thus, status as a member of the living dead isn’t just a thing transmitted from victim to prey, it’s the fate of everyone who doesn’t survive the outbreak. To my knowledge, this is a unique plot point among monster stories, though it raises quite a few possibilities. Would people commit suicide just to get it over with? Would a group be so quick to kill its mutineers if equipped with this knowledge? There are so many questions about this point that the movie doesn’t ask or answer, though I’m sure there’s a story in here somewhere.
Finally, there’s still one important piece missing: The metaphor. It’s a given law that in all the greatest zombie films, the zombies are a metaphor for something. Shaun of the Dead is probably my favorite example, as it humorously points out that society has become so lethargic and dumbed down that no one would notice a zombie invasion until it was well underway. In this case, I’m a bit at a loss. Based on the bleak ending, I’d guess that the zombies are supposed to be a demonstration of how easily we can mistake each other for enemies and how quick we are to inflict bloodshed. It’s a decent start, but there’s a lot more to be done and done better with the concept. In fact, I could say that for the movie as a whole.
Night of the Living Dead is quite visibly imperfect, but it’s more than solid enough to provide the foundation for the entire horror genre that it spawned. The zombies are a legitimate threat, they’re frightening in their execution (pun intended?), and the inter-living conflict feels real enough to be compelling. I’ve seen zombie movies with better production value, better scripting, better acting, and more creativity, but I’ve yet to see one that doesn’t crib from this one in some form or other.
As the granddaddy of so many horror films after it (and as its own movie), Night of the Living Dead (passably) holds up.