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Night of the Living
Dead (1968)(aka
"Night of the Anubis," " Night of the Flesh Eaters"))
Note:
This is a discussion of the film that is intended for
those who have watched it. If you have not seen the
film, do so immediately. Then come back and read this.
It contains many spoilers and reveals much about the
ending of this masterful film.
George
Romero re-invents the low budget horror film here by
introducing elements of the avant-garde, casting superior
unknowns and gnawing away at a subtext of modern racial
angst. In the stunning mindset of the film, he also
treats every single moment as if it were reality. This
seeming verisimilitude, almost new to the idea at hand
here, makes the film a masterpiece not only in the genre,
but in cinema itself.
I can remember the first time I saw the film, probably
around 1980, at a midnight movie. The minute the black
and white image came on the screen, I was creeped out.
When Romero lingers here, while the low-budget credits
role and a car comes from an incredible distance, one
is immediately already squirming in his seat. The film
soon moves to that which is the most creepy of all,
a cemetery. And here is where Romero begins to establish
his reality. Using the elements of stark lighting and
that black and white 8mm image, which reminds us so
much of our own home movies, Romero begins a tale of
terrifying proportions and never once treats it unnaturally.
We are dragged through the horror of the film as if
we were there. And the actions and reactions of those
around us are so strikingly realistic, it is unnerving.
When the clan of frightened civilians in the film finally
locate a TV set and turn it on, they get real and exact
newscasts that parallel those newscast of horrific moments
in real 60's events. Like the Watts riots or the assassination
of Kennedy, the newscasters in the film deliver the
important exposition as if it were really happening.
Their incomprehension of the facts at hand mirrors ours.
It's goosepimple-exploding real! This, as Romero wisely
plans, only heightens our sense of terror and unease.
The film expounds upon these ideas with a subtext that
finds black man against white. Even in our most frightening
and intense moments, we can not leave behind our racial
and societal prejudices. Romero, again with a master's
touch, never puts words to these fears and discriminations.
Instead, he weaves around them in dialogue and action
that only hint at them. They are subtext. The black
man, the main character not only has to fight off flesh-eating
zombies to survive, he has to fight the ignorance and
simple-mindedness of his fellow white survivors, or
at least one of them. (It's a small flaw in the film
that the arrogant white man is partially right in the
end). And in the end, after surviving on his own wits
and stamina, after being the only man to survive the
night, when help and relief seems apparent, the black
man is finally struck down. And it is no accident that
it is a white, red-neck, vigilante group that finally,
ultimately, causes his end.
The acting is so brilliant, so real. Where did Romero
find these guys? For the most part, they did little
work elsewhere. And this only adds to the wonderful
experience of seeing it for the first time. There are
no recognizable faces, except those of our selves. This,
again, adds to the heightened terror of the film.
Duane Jones as Ben is a force to be reckoned with. He
drives the film with his amazing assuredness and his
relentless pursuit of safety. He represents action and
command. That a black man is placed in this position,
within the context of the film's plot, is a brilliant
move on Romero's part. It opens up the idea of the film,
namely man's survival against the horrors of nature,
into subtextural realms virtually untapped at the time
of the film's release. Even now, over 30 years later,
the racial tension and uneasiness of the film resonates.
Judith O'Dea, in what was her only screen appearance,
as Barbara, is called upon to go from snooty priss to
withdrawn basket-case and makes every moment of what
happens to her on screen tingle with reality. Her actions
and reaction represent not only feminine frailty, a
concept a bit chauvinistic but conceivable for the timeframe,
but that area of unconscious consciousness many of us
would fall into if confronted with the reality she does.
While Ben represents the person we hope we would be
in crisis, Barbara represents the person we fear we
would become.
The others in the film represent facets of humanity
in myriad colors, but it is Karl Hardman, as the unsympathetic
Harry Cooper, who is called upon to waver between the
voice of reason and the voice of stubbornness. His verbal
sparring with Jones comes as close to man vs. man as
anything we've ever seen in film. Their complicated
and elliptical conversations all but call out their
hatred and bigotry of one and other. Yet, this is never,
ever, actually verbalized or made conscious and conspicuous.
The acting that goes on between them is nothing short
of pure perfection. There are sparks almost visible
when they confront one and other continually throughout
the film's second half.
Romero brings all of this to us, the stark reality,
the subtextural racism, the eeriness, in harsh black
and white. But in a move of utter cinematic intelligence,
he lights and films the piece almost as if it were an
avant-garde underground film. The crisscrossing light
beams, the shadows, the darkness set ablaze by fires,
these images are sharp compliments to what is happening
elsewhere in the film. The slashes of light representing
the verbal slashing between Ben and Cooper, the eerie
incandescence barely able to brighten the horror of
the night going on outside, the shadows reminding us
of the fear awaiting us at every turn of the corner.
It's a beautiful film to behold.
The film is called "Night of the Living Dead" because
the action actually takes place over one terrifying
night. Tapping into our nightmares and phobias, Romero
offers us that small piece of hope that the gruesome
atrocities we are forced to witness will all be over,
will all cease, when the sun rises. And they do. Then,
in the single shot of a gun, the atrocities of reality
come forth, and we are confronted with yet another foe.
Sadly, we are not as afraid, as this predator can tell
the color of our skin and we are no longer hunted. But
for others, for those different from ourselves, it seems
the night is never over.
Notes: Followed by "Dawn of the Dead" and "Day of the
Dead"which are not actually sequels but more of meditations
on the same plot idea. I have not seen "Day" yet but
just as the original was used to focus on racial tensions
and bigotry, "Dawn" focuses on consumerism and greed.
Remade in color in 1990 by Tom Savini, who made a career
for himself by doing the special effects here. The film
was also colorized, stupidly, for video releases and
TV showings. It has been spoofed, referenced and shown
as a clip in numerous films since it's release.
The scene in the cemetery where the car hits the tree
was improvised when, between shooting days, someone
actually hit and dented the vehicle.
The characters who played Johnny (Barbara's brother)and
Judy (Tom's girlfriend) actually were married for a
short time after the filming.
Hardman was one of the producers of the film. Another,
a butcher, provided some of the blood and guts used.
Report
Card
Acting: A+
Cinematography\Lighting: A+
Special Effects\Make Up: A+
Music: C
Final
Grade: A+
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