NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD
1968
Directed and cowrote by George A. Romero
A.K.A. How to change the world without really trying
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Recently, seeing "Land of the Dead" has put me in a nostolgic mood. There's already been said quite a bit on this world-shattering film, but this is my website, so I'll put things in my perspective, and you're going to like it.
For those of you who haven't seen this movie (SHAME ON YOU!), this is about a disparate group of people who all end up taking shelter in a farm house in the country, as the recently dead have come back to life, and start persuing the living to cannibalize them. Over the course of the movie, we see the group make bad decisions one after another, that all seem like good ideas at the time, with tensions building to a boiling point resulting in an unforgettable climax.
Night of the Living Dead holds a special place in my heart. This movie was really the first SCARY movie I ever saw. Sure, I had seen tons of horror movies before this, but the closest I came to being scared by a movie was when the first Nightmare On Elm Street movie left my six year old mind a little uneasy about Freddy Krueger for about an hour. This was the first film to actually instill fear in me. Flashback to the late 80's. I was maybe 8. I idolized my older brother, and followed all the movie, tv, and music trends that he did. Though thinking about it, my brother himself was pretty advanced for what sort of stuff he liked then. Anyways, at this time, he was going through the phase that many boys do around early adolesence, the phase of loving horror and gore as much as possible. Add to that the leniency our parents gave us towards what films we could watch (I had to cover my eyes when boobies came on the screen, and even that didn't last TOO long), and it ammounts to a shocking ammount of films that I had access to at a young age. But I digress. We were at my father's for the weekend, as we would be every other weekend, and we decided to rent NOTLD. By this time, I was well accustomed to the ways of the modern horror films of the day. The monster was more interesting than the good guys. If you couldn't tell who was going to live through the movie by 15 minutes in, it was because the main character was the killer. There was always a "final girl". Most importantly, death had become a game, where the most inventive, funny and suprising method of killing was always the way to go. Boy did I have a shock waiting for me this night. The movie started off plain enough for me, with no real surprise at the death of that A-hole Johnny. (In retrospect, it does seem kind of odd how intellegent and anacronistic the first zombie is to the rules of the movie.) While I was aware of the tensions being brought up in the house, it was not really any big deal to me. I was used to seeing the exact sort of thing in other old black and white films, particularly the sci-fi. The monsters would come back soon enough.
Then Tom and Judy blew up. Okay, I was about as shocked as Duane Jones appears to be at that moment. These were the teenagers, the ones the audience is supposed to identify with over the old curmudgeon in the basement. But still, I was fairly certain that this was okay, as Ben was still the hero, and Barbara was still the main girl. As long as they're okay, the lesser teens can eat it for all I cared. Still, their death was pretty sudden, and surprising to me especially because of the lack of undead-action. Nevertheless, the damage was done, and it was readily apparent that there was reason to feel uneasy around the film. That unease grew substantially with the creepiness of the Cooper girl in the basement becoming a zombie. And it takes just SO long for her to attack and kill her parents, doesn't it? (there's some more anacronisms for you, she goes RIGHT for that trowel when Mrs. Cooper sees her). It's a scene that just feels dirty. But my sense of saftey didn't really leave me until Barbara died. This was the "final girl". She was supposed to come out stronger for the ordeal and more heroic. This was the age of Ripley and other strong female butt-kickers. Yet there's Johnny, munching happily on his sister. At that point, I became suddenly acutely aware of my surroundings. I was in the dark. I was surrounded by family, yet they were all asleep. I was alone. Very alone. I was, for the first time in my life, fully aware at just how powerless a small boy, alone in the dark, really is. All my hopes lied with Ben now. If he could make it out, so could I. And then that ending shook the foundations of everything I believed in to the core. My young mind was even mildly aware that social implications could be made from the ending. But more importantly, death was everywhere, and noone was safe. Especially not poor little old me. Growing up, I constantly fantasized (if you can call it that) about the dead coming up from their graves. For a long period, I would superstitiously hold my breath while driving next to cemetaries. To make my nightmare fuel worse, I lived next to TWO cemetaries. If the dead came up seeking live flesh, I'd be one of the first available targets. Lucky me. To this day, I still have nightmares involving zombies. They remain a very real fear to me. In all seriousness, I spend real ammounts of time planning for when the dead rise. I figure out vehicle accesses, fastest routes to weapons supply places, I plan out what supplies I'd need. Sometimes I even envision ways to hole myself up and away from the menace of the undead. And yet, every time a new zombie (or zombie-like) movie comes out, I'm first in line, ready to face my fears. Sometimes, I beat them. Sometimes the fear beats me. |
RatingI give Night of the Living Dead
Five Rotting Shambling Corpses out of Five. |