Dawn of the Dead (USA, 1978)
Directed by George A. Romero
Starring David Emge, Ken Foree, Scott Reiniger, Gaylen Ross
Having created the modern zombie movie almost singled-handedly, George
A. Romero spent the years after
Night of the Living Dead diversifying
his portfolio. His efforts ranged from cult hits like
The Crazies and
Martin to the choppy
Season of the Witch and
There's Always Vanilla,
which he has all but disowned. After
Martin failed to find an audience,
Romero continued his Zombie Trilogy with
Dawn of the Dead, an engrossing
and just plain gross sequel which has many of his trademarks but
doesn't quite live up to the first instalment.
While there is no
direct character continuity between the first and second films, there is
some thematic continuity in the first ten minutes.
Dawn of the Dead
continues with the zombies representing racism by having a group of
Puerto Rican or Hispanic zombies being mown down by the National Guard.
Like the previous film, our main protagonist is black, the main female
character is blonde, and there is a couple within the small group of
survivors (who are with child, rather than with a child).
There
are other thematic continuities too, albeit ones which are not dwelt
upon as the film gathers pace. During the opening credits there is a
comment on media sensationalism, as the various executives want to keep
the station on the air, even if it means misleading people. While the
sensible people, like the presenters and camera operators, are packing
up and leaving, the bigwigs run with outdated material in the hope of
keeping whatever audience is out there. The film does drift into sillier
B-movie territory, with one of the scientific experts wearing an
eye-patch, but that's emphasised no more than the radio broadcasts about
alien radiation in the first film.
After the first ten minutes,
Dawn of the Dead's main theme comes to the fore, as the zombies shift
from being the spectre of racism to the spectre of consumerism and
material greed. While its predecessor reflected an America reeling from
both the Vietnam War and the civil rights movement,
Dawn of the Dead
reflects a country laid low by the OPEC crisis, high inflation and
sluggish growth. It depicts the institutions of developed capitalism as
hollow shells, to which we mindlessly flock out of habit or memory of
what we once had.
There are two interesting consequences of this
central conceit. The first is that the film becomes more relativistic
than its predecessor, arguing that the human survivors who take refuge
in the mall are no better in terms of morals or motivations than the
zombies laying siege to it. Both groups are drawn to the mall through a
mixture of necessity and habit: both groups need fuel (whether petrol or
human flesh), and both find comfort in gravitating to what they know,
rather than taking their chances and starting anew in the wilderness.
The
second is the way in which consumerism takes over the survivors, and
they become reckless merely through being surrounded by convenience.
Having killed all the zombies inside the mall and barricaded themselves
in, we see them swanning around in a lengthy montage, having fun and
building up their possessions to the point of pure decadence. Having
watched society crumble around them, they have recreated their
middle-class, property-based idyll which gives them comfort and
familiarity, and it is only when their lives are truly threatened that
they sum up the courage to leave material comforts behind.
All
three instalments of Romero's Zombie Trilogy could be put into the
category of siege films, since they are constructed around characters
inside a building or location seeking to keep out a malevolent force.
But where
Night of the Living Dead put a greater emphasis on the
ordinary nature of said force (i.e. the zombies look exactly like us),
Dawn of the Dead concentrates more on the siege mentality itself - in
other words, how you would keep the zombies out, rather than what the
zombies are like. There is a further tie-in with the theme of bourgeois
life being recreated through consumerism when the bikers (including
make-up artist Tom Savini) break into the mall and take everything in
sight. These scenes reflect both the bourgeois fear of outsiders and the
film's on-going relativism: the bikers are doing what the other
survivors and zombies are doing, only more quickly and with more
weapons.
The invasion of the mall by the bikers also demonstrates
the influence of Italian horror on Dawn on the Dead. There is a
screenwriting credit for the master of giallo Dario Argento, who was in
his prime having made Suspiria the year before. The blood that Savini
uses in the gory battles between bikers and zombies is the same,
day-glo, shimmering red that Argento has made his trademark - as Eli
Roth puts it, "putting the gore in gorgeous". And like Suspiria, Dawn of
the Dead benefits from a soundtrack by the progressive rock group
Goblin, who build threat through unusual yet effective instrumentation.
The
soundtrack to
Dawn of the Dead plays a considerable part in cultivating
threat from creatures which, in speed at least, are relatively
unthreatening. One of the tensest moments in the whole film comes when a
Hari Khrishna zombie has managed to find the entrance to the survivors'
den, where the pregnant Fran has been left behind while her male
comrades fight the zombies off. As the zombie approaches, the soundtrack
throws up a strange jangly sound, like a demonic tambourine, which
makes the whole scene more unsettling. Romero also plays on the upbeat
muzak of the mall itself to drench the situation in yet more irony.
Much
like its predecessor, the real emotional weight of
Dawn of the Dead
lies in the characters, which feel more layered and complex than many
other horror movies of the time. Gaylen Ross gives a great performance
as Francine, who gradually moves from the role of damsel in distress to a
genuine force to be reckoned with. Scott Reiniger and Ken Foree have
good camaraderie as Roger and Peter respectively, with the truck scenes
providing some much-needed comic relief. And David Emge rounds the cast
out nicely as Stephen, attempting to make sense of the chaos that
surrounds him.
For all the good things going for it,
Dawn of the
Dead has a number of problems which ultimately make it a poor relation
to its predecessor. It was always going to be hard to top the chilling
terror of
Night, and in fairness to Romero, widening the scale of the
action was probably the only way he could have gone. But because he has
more space to play with, the natural feeling of claustrophobia is not as
strong or as effective as in the first film. When you've got characters
closed off in one room, it's naturally unsettling, but when they have
several floors at their disposal, it's not so much.
The film also
suffers from poor pacing, particularly in its second act. After an
efficient and exciting opening, the film unfolds at an all-too-leisurely
pace once the immediate threat has been dealt with. Had John Carpenter
helmed the film, he would have being working overtime to sustain the
terror to breaking point, just as he did in
Hallowe'en or
The Thing four
years later. As it is, Romero begins well, then drops the ball, and
only truly recovers in the last 20 minutes when the proverbial really
hits the fan.
The final problem or debate concerns the ending.
The original ending involved Stephen and Francine making it to the roof
and committing suicide rather than face being turned into zombies. The
current ending, in which they escape and fly off into an unknown future,
feels like an uneasy compromise thrown together at the last minute.
There's no way of knowing how the original ending would have worked, but
it would at least have reinforced the film's nihilistic mood, and
provided further continuity with its predecessor, which ends with the
main character being shot.
Dawn of the Dead is a weighty and
interesting sequel to what is arguably Romero's finest achievement
(though
Martin comes very close). Although its ideas are perhaps more
fleshed-out than its predecessor, its mechanical and narrative
shortcomings prevent it from delivering any kind of knock-out punch. But
it has aged very well indeed, and remains a very fine film with plenty
to say about our culture and society. Whatever the merits of Zac
Snyder's remake, this remains the version you must see.
Rating: 3.5/5
Verdict: Bloody and brooding but not quite brilliant
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