george a. romero, land of the dead
i like george romero for many of the same reasons i like sam fuller. both are inventive, intelligent film-makers who give and give and give... their strengths arise out of an affection for genre, a lean and dynamic approach to visual storytelling and a tendency to lay it on thick. they share a wild streak-- an impulse to follow things through to their garish extremes, as well as an eye for the pockets of uncertainty that develop along the way. in the work of both directors, overt gestures have the resonance of covert operations. their films are pinball machines-- and following ninety minutes of spectatorial thrashing, you end up somewhere consistently interesting.
enter land of the dead, and its enjoyably “storybook” origins: forgotten director drifting into obscurity... entertaining, zombie shlock is a surprise hit... hip u.k. director makes artsy fartsy alternative (with mixed results)... some dumb shit makes needless re-make of forgotten director's masterpiece... forgotten director gets budget and resources to show the whole lot of them how it's done.
and on strictly popcorn-crunching terms, romero delivers. no nu-metal, no smart-ass characters you can't wait to see devoured, no "fast zombies," etc. the film rises up from the ashes of the previous three and stands proud. romero revels in gore as well as politics, and has a hell of a good time along the way.
which isn’t to say land doesn’t have its problems. first and foremost, it's simply not long enough. romero has a lot he'd like to say and do, and he doesn’t have enough time to see it all through. for example, there's a nice break in the action about midway through the film, where the central heroic trio are trapped in jail and begin to converse with each other. we get a small taste of the kind of character development that made dawn of the dead so resonant and likeable. asia argento (who, presumably, has been knee-deep in puddles of fake blood since she was old enough to walk) is particularly engaging, and brings a more legitimate toughness to romero's already-nuanced handling of horror femininity. but there isn't enough of her. the characters, though well intended, are painted in broad strokes, and romero spends too much time multi-tasking to give them the love he's proven he can deliver.
painted in equally broad strokes are the political insights, centering mostly around john leguizamo's "cholo"-- a name that is either snarky and clever or shamefully embarrassing (i can’t, personally, decide). cholo, save a few spanish-language profanities, is reduced to a garden-variety "minority"-- an excluded everyman standing in the shadow of white male privilege (personified by a refreshingly understated dennis hopper-- of all people). romero means well, but misses several opportunities to add dimension and complexity to the character.
the finest political moments occur at the peripheries. take for example "charlie," a mentally challenged burn victim who follows the film's protagonist around with an of mice and men-esque homoerotic loyalty. charlie, with his scarred visage and dumb-founded reactions, occupies a strange middle ground between human and zombie. his distorted face is a false alarm in key sequences, further blurring the evaporating lines between self and other. and eugene clark's inverted black protagonist, whose identity as a zombie has been applauded in a number of reviews i've read, is a hell of an interesting move on romero's part. his initial, schlocky zombie moan is romero's grief-stricken battle cry, lamenting how little has changed in america since duane jones was shot that morning after the night of the living dead in 1968.
but the best thing about the film is neither gory and scary nor savvy and political. it is the affection that so obviously went into it, every step of the way. land of the dead enters a landscape of revisionism and profiteering, and says to hell with both. romero makes his movie the way he likes, and does so with with a gleeful generosity that simply won me over. twenty years later, romero's zombie world is as enjoyable as ever, and well worth the wait.
enter land of the dead, and its enjoyably “storybook” origins: forgotten director drifting into obscurity... entertaining, zombie shlock is a surprise hit... hip u.k. director makes artsy fartsy alternative (with mixed results)... some dumb shit makes needless re-make of forgotten director's masterpiece... forgotten director gets budget and resources to show the whole lot of them how it's done.
and on strictly popcorn-crunching terms, romero delivers. no nu-metal, no smart-ass characters you can't wait to see devoured, no "fast zombies," etc. the film rises up from the ashes of the previous three and stands proud. romero revels in gore as well as politics, and has a hell of a good time along the way.
which isn’t to say land doesn’t have its problems. first and foremost, it's simply not long enough. romero has a lot he'd like to say and do, and he doesn’t have enough time to see it all through. for example, there's a nice break in the action about midway through the film, where the central heroic trio are trapped in jail and begin to converse with each other. we get a small taste of the kind of character development that made dawn of the dead so resonant and likeable. asia argento (who, presumably, has been knee-deep in puddles of fake blood since she was old enough to walk) is particularly engaging, and brings a more legitimate toughness to romero's already-nuanced handling of horror femininity. but there isn't enough of her. the characters, though well intended, are painted in broad strokes, and romero spends too much time multi-tasking to give them the love he's proven he can deliver.
painted in equally broad strokes are the political insights, centering mostly around john leguizamo's "cholo"-- a name that is either snarky and clever or shamefully embarrassing (i can’t, personally, decide). cholo, save a few spanish-language profanities, is reduced to a garden-variety "minority"-- an excluded everyman standing in the shadow of white male privilege (personified by a refreshingly understated dennis hopper-- of all people). romero means well, but misses several opportunities to add dimension and complexity to the character.
the finest political moments occur at the peripheries. take for example "charlie," a mentally challenged burn victim who follows the film's protagonist around with an of mice and men-esque homoerotic loyalty. charlie, with his scarred visage and dumb-founded reactions, occupies a strange middle ground between human and zombie. his distorted face is a false alarm in key sequences, further blurring the evaporating lines between self and other. and eugene clark's inverted black protagonist, whose identity as a zombie has been applauded in a number of reviews i've read, is a hell of an interesting move on romero's part. his initial, schlocky zombie moan is romero's grief-stricken battle cry, lamenting how little has changed in america since duane jones was shot that morning after the night of the living dead in 1968.
but the best thing about the film is neither gory and scary nor savvy and political. it is the affection that so obviously went into it, every step of the way. land of the dead enters a landscape of revisionism and profiteering, and says to hell with both. romero makes his movie the way he likes, and does so with with a gleeful generosity that simply won me over. twenty years later, romero's zombie world is as enjoyable as ever, and well worth the wait.