Double Feature W/ Scott Schirmer #2

Night of the Living Dead (1968)

When cosmic radiation transforms the dead into flesh-eating ghouls, a ragtag team of survivors make a last stand at a remote Pennsylvania farmhouse where tensions rise between the living as much as from the growing zombie horde. Co-writer/director George Romero became an inspiration to countless future filmmakers when he made this ultra-low-budget horror film that became a global phenomenon, inventing the modern zombie character and changing the course of horror film history. No indie horror film before Night of the Living Dead pierced the zeitgeist to the extent this one did, paving the way for such future discoveries as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, The Evil Dead, and The Blair Witch Project.

The magic of this film is in its creative execution and nuanced storytelling. Romero proves a master of scene staging and editing, guiding his cast of local, Pittsburgh-area actors to performances that are more than serviceable. The film invites viewers to experience a zombie apocalypse almost in real time. TV and radio news reports are scattered through the film, helping create a palpable atmosphere and a claustrophobic point-of-view. He also pushes boundaries with some of the earliest graphic depictions of cannibalism and gun violence, riding the wave of late ’60s visceral realism seen in such films as The Wild Bunch and Bonnie and Clyde.

What resonates even more, so many decades after its initial release, is the film’s content and meaning. The gore doesn’t haunt viewers as much as the drama does, whether it’s seeing Judith O’Dea pulled out the house by her own zombie brother, or watching Marilyn Eastman attacked by her own zombie child. For those who love to analyze subtext, Night of the Living Dead is worthy of academic study. While it’s far from direct in its allegory or symbolism, the film captures the social unrest and anxiety of its time — released the year of Martin Luther King’s assassination and in the midst of the Vietnam War. Romero casts a black man, Duane Jones, as the hero of the film, and pits him in heated conflict with a paranoid white character (Karl Hardman). These characters eventually threaten each other’s existence as much as the zombies do. Romero has said Jones’s casting was a color-blind decision without any socio-political intention. It was a bold, striking move either way, making the film’s surprise ending all the more shocking.

As important and inspirational as it is, this is not a perfect film. The acting from a few supporting players is rigid, and O’Dea’s character falls into a helpless, catatonic state for far too long. While Romero works wonders to keep the film interesting and engaging, the first half nevertheless begins to drag while Duane Jones boards up the house. But these relatively minor issues do nothing to tarnish the film’s ‘masterpiece’ status. In fact, they almost make the film that much more special, reminding us that this isn’t a slick, polished studio film, but essentially a home movie made in someone’s back yard — one of the most staggering filmmaking success stories ever told.

Co-written by John Russo. With Keith Wayne, Judith Ridley, and George Kosana.

***

Night of the Living Dead (1990)

[This review is of the 2025 Director’s Cut.]

Special makeup effects artist Tom Savini directs this early ’90s remake of George Romero’s seminal Night of the Living Dead. Tony Todd and Patricia Tallman lead the ensemble cast with a script that is largely faithful to the original film, at least until it’s final minutes. After an inexplicable phenomenon brings the dead back to life, Tallman flees a grave yard overrun by brain-seeking zombies and finds refuge at a remote farmhouse. While she mourns the death of her brother (Bill Moseley) at the hands of the one of the ghouls, Todd pulls up in a truck running on fumes and shelters with her. As they brace for the hordes of zombies slowly moving toward the house, they discover other humans hiding in the basement who present dangers of their own.

The first full hour of this remake is deadly dull, with little more to hold our attention than a few gloomy soliloquys pattered off by Tony Todd, who in better circumstances is a great actor. Tallman’s character is mute from shock for such a long time, one wonders why she’s even in the movie at all. She finally becomes more interesting once she picks up a shotgun and decides to embrace her inner Rambo. William Butler and Katie Finneran are likeable in their small roles, but the script gives the lion’s share of screen time to the most insufferable character — a paranoid man played by Tom Towles who argues with everyone throughout the last half of the movie. It’s one thing for a character to serve a narrative purpose, but Towles’ character is so awful, he doesn’t just make the other characters hate him. He makes the audience hate the movie.

The final half hour contains most of the film’s action and gore, though to be honest, I expected so much more in both departments. Why remake Night of the Living Dead if not to take advantage of a bigger budget and advancements in technology? With Savini at the helm, I thought this film would be filled to the brim with spectacular gore and special effects, but it’s not. There’s one big pyrotechnic event, and the vast majority of the zombies die by a mere bullet to the head. Almost any other Savini film has more and better effects work.

The ending of the film strays from the original, and that’s probably a good idea if only to distinguish itself. But the ending left me perplexed with what it was trying to say. Whereas Romero’s original buttoned itself up with a striking insinuation of social commentary that made it worthy of academic study, Savini’s remake ends less confidently. All in all, it’s a deeply underwhelming experience.

With McKee Anderson, Heather Mazur, and a wretched, grating, synthesized score by Paul McCollough.

*****

Scott Schirmer is an independent filmmaker and reviewer. His films include the cult classics FOUND, HEADLESS, HARVEST LAKE, PLANK FACE, THE BAD MAN, and GUSH. His daily reviews can be discovered at www.scottsmoviereviews.com.