(This whole moving-into-an-abandoned-shopping-mall concept would be perfect - if it weren't for the thousands and thousands of goddamned zombies clamoring to get in...)
CAST: Gaylen Ross, David Emge, Ken Foree, Scott Reiniger.
DIRECTOR: George A. Romero
WARNING: Some SPOILERS and consumerist walking dead - straight ahead...
In 1968, NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD decidedly changed the horror landscape. Eschewing abstract horror (THE HAUNTING), mystery slashers (PSYCHO), or nature-gone-amok (THE BIRDS), writer/director George A. Romero instead focused on scaring the living fuck out of audience by taking that hoariest (and dullest) of horror movie creatures, the zombie, and making it formidably deadly - and increasing their number very significantly. Romero also cannily made his characters relatably nondescript - Everyday Janes and Joes suddenly caught in the middle of some seriously messed-up shite.
In this case, the messed-up shite is a worldwide pandemic of corpse revival brought about by a satellite returning from Venus with some really potent radiation. I mean, how much more powerful can it be if it can wake the fucking dead and make them crave human flesh ? Presumably, Venus was henceforth referred to as "Planet of the Zombies" or, more colloquially, "That fucking planet." This pollution from Venus pretty much reanimates all the newly dead - and makes them go after the living. If bitten, the victim quickly sickens and dies, then returns as a zombie.
But the pandemic doesn't discriminate, though. No way. All you have to do to turn into a zombie... is die. Doesn't matter if it's just from natural causes. Yup. The radiation is that special. Now, imagine the number of people who die everyday around the world. Gotta be in the millions. Now imagine each of them coming back to life and taking a nice chomp out of Aunt Alicia or Reverend O'Toole who just happen to be standing nearby. Then imagine them dying, then reviving and taking a bite out of whatever dumb shit has the misfortune of standing next to them.
Basically we're talking about a seriously rapid geometric progression here - and it's not too crazy to say that if the world's governments don't get their acts together and handle the crisis correctly, two out of three Capricorns are going to wind up as zombies. Actually, make that two out of three of any astrological sign. Except for Scorpios - as the "Devils of the Zodiac" we know our way around horror film scenarios, thank you very much. You can bet your ass that after the first headlines blaring, "THE DEAD WALK AND WANT PRIME RIB - YOURS!", we'd be so gone and on the deck of a South Seas-bound ocean liner - and leaving the madness behind.
Which is where we find ourselves at the beginning of DAWN OF THE DEAD. Ostensibly set only a few weeks after the end of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (despite the flicks being over ten years apart), DAWN makes it clear that the world's governments are mishandling the response to the crisis. Actually, that would be too much of a compliment, because "response" implies "action." From the out-of-control news broadcast scene that opens the film, it's obvious that the citizens of the world have all decided to address the crisis by... yelling at each other and calling each other names and ignoring the facts that are ripping through their neighborhoods. As our heroine, Fran (Gaylen Ross), accurately states, "We're blowing it." Preach, sister, preach.
Fran is a station manager at WGON-Philadelphia, and the shit isn't so much hitting the fan as downright bludgeoning it, okay? The zombie contagion is so bad that: (1) rescue centers are dropping like flies; (2) the President has just signed a directive that orders all citizens to move out of their homes and into.... well, it's never made clear where; and (3) the emergency broadcast networks are scheduled to take over in a few hours. Yes, our Fran is living in interesting times, indeed. And the crisis is starting to take its toll on the living folks, too. For example, Fran's asshole boss decides to continue flashing the names of inoperative rescue centers onscreen - basically ensuring that terrified and innocent people will leave the safety of their homes - and run smackdab into centers overrun by the living dead.
When confronted by a furious Fran, her boss's justification is this lovely raison d'etre: without the names of the rescue centers (however zombie-infested) flashing onscreen, viewers will tune out and WGON's ratings will plummet. Yes, folks... The world is falling apart. Five out of ten people are now shambling flesh-eaters. Society is collapsing. The WGON studios may be overrun at any minute. They may not survive the night. And this dickhead is worried about whether an episode of THE JEFFERSONS will trump him in the Nielsens. Newsflash, asshole: THE JEFFERSONS are all zombies now - so get those fucking inoperative rescue center names off that screen before more people die. Which is pretty much what Fran tells him. Go girl.
This is the last straw for Fran, who is clearly a morally-upstanding chick and takes her "Purveyor of Truth" role very seriously. Unfortunately, she has a boyfriend who is more of a "Save Your Own Skin" type of roller. Stephen (David Emge) is the WGON traffic helicopter pilot, and he basically strong-arms Fran into escaping with him in the - hey, why not? - chopper and going to... well, he's not exactly sure. Not much of a planner, our Stephen. But then I've heard that women like that in a man. Find it sexy and unpredictable or something. Except when you're trying to outrun a nation of flesh-eating zombies, that is... Then it's a liability.
Joining Ken and Barbie, er, Stephen and Fran in their flight (in both senses of the word) from Philly are: (1) Roger (Scott Reiniger), their good-natured pal who is also a SWAT dude; and (2) Peter (Ken Foree), Roger's fellow SWAT dude and new best friend. I guess shooting zombies overrun housing projects makes for a great male bonding experience. Anyhow, the foursome hightail it out of crumbling Philadelphia and head for the sticks where they find... more fucking zombies. Clearly, as white-collar as our quartet of heroes are, they still don't know the real meaning of "global pandemic." Newsflash guys: if the zombies were just a Philly problem, no one would even blink an eye. They'd just blast the place into space.
Realization dawning that this thing is everywhere, our heroes starts bickering and in-fighting. Stephen complains that they need to refuel and is thinking about making a gas-stop in Cleveland. Great idea, Einstein, considering you guys barely got out of Philly alive. Roger, obviously being smart in addition to cute, warns Stephen to stay out of big cities because of the higher infestation rates there. And Peter warns them about the rural airstrips, too, because someone may demand to see Stevie's ownership papers for the WGON whirlybird. Which, being a thief who commandeered the fucking thing, he does not have. Oh, and at this strategic moment, Fran helpfully reminds the boys that they: (1) don't have food, (2) don't have water, (3) don't have a radio, and (4) someone just farted. Okay, I was kidding about that last part, but come on - they've been in that fucking chopper for 24 hours. You're going to tell me that none of them cut the cheese? They'd have to be zombies to be able to hold their farts for so long.
Anyhow, salvation comes in the form of a huge abandoned mall. Our heroes land the chopper and see what's what. And "what" is the following: (1) the mall is huge, (2) the mall is fully-stocked, (3) the mall is overrun by zombies. Well, that looked promising while it lasted. At least in Fran's mind, who's ready to just take whatever food they can get and continue flying to who-the-fuck-knows-where. It will come as no surprise that the three men - being men - look at her like she's a Martian. And she'd have to be from Mars for passing up this prime location to hole up in. If they could just get rid of those fucking zombies.
Suffice it to say, never underestimate a trio of motivated men (and the woman they force to help them) in wiping out the several hundred zombies in the mall. That's right, folks. Teased by the promise of having that lovely place all to themselves, our heroes basically go all medieval and shit on the walking puss-bags - and succeed. Soon they've cleared out all the zombies, barricaded the doors, and are basically running through the mall and pirouetting in the air and doing backstrokes in the sea of merchandise. The only thing missing is Madonna's MATERIAL GIRL playing on the mall PA system. Probably because that song wouldn't come out until a few years later.
Anyhow, it goes without saying that if you're going to ride out a zombie apocalypse, there are shabbier places to do it than in a gigantic mall filled with everything you'd ever need. But is everything as rosy at it first seems for our heroes? Will their survival instincts be numbed by the sheer fuckload of good shit around them? And what happens when a bunch of hooligans and bandits come across the mall and eventually break in - threatening to let the thousands of zombies lurking outside right back in? Will our heroes survive? Or will they need even more retail therapy?
Find out for yourselves. But make sure you're not eating anything while you're finding out for yourselves. Trust me.
BUT, SERIOUSLY: From it's brilliant opening scene, the TV station under siege, to the middle section chronicling our heroes' efforts to find a safe place to hole up in, to the subsequent "setting-up-house" sequence in the mall, and lastly, to its bloody and gory denouement, DAWN OF THE DEAD never makes a wrong move. Intelligent, horrifying, disturbing, thoughtful, and - ultimately - hopeful, this movie is one of those rare sequels that is actually better than the first film, in this case the classic NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD.
DAWN OF THE DEAD also makes a very trenchant statement about our consumerist society. Indeed, Romero purposefully juxtaposes the shambling corpses in the mall with our own activities when we visit such places. What are we if not mindless zombies stumbling from store to store, trying to find the next hot thing to temporarily thrill us? It's almost like trying to sate an endless hunger with things that, ultimately, have no real meaning.
Romero further drives home his point by showing the gradual disintegration of his four characters from one another due to their "overconsumption." The scene where Fran looks around at the ridiculously furnished living quarters - culled from the inventory below - and the men she has grown distant from, then finally asks them, "What have we done to ourselves?" pretty much says everything. Basically, she and the others have fallen under the spell of the mall to such an extent that they're almost as dead as the corpses walking around outside.
The thing I love the most about DAWN OF THE DEAD is the care and thought that Romero gives to shaping his characters. Fran, Stephen, Roger, and Peter are all vivid and three-dimensional. We see a lot of different sides to them - some positive, some not. We really get to know these people to the point where I found myself imagining how their lives must have been before the zombie apocalypse hit. That's when you know you care about a group of movie characters.
Gaylen Ross and the character that she plays (Fran) is a major improvement over the weak Barbara from NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. Fran is tough, but never strident or overbearing. She speaks her mind quietly and firmly, and the scene where she levelly reminds the three men that there are four of them and she wants to be included in all decisions is a great scene. Her insistence on learning how to shoot a gun and how to fly the helicopter is further proof of the strong, self-reliant streak in her. And, again, Ross manages this without making Fran into a bitch. Also, Fran is the first to intuit that the mall may actually be more damaging to them in the long run. Kind, strong, sensitive, intelligent - the perfect heroine.
As the three men around her, David Emge, Ken Foree, and Scott Reiniger are all excellent. David Emge doesn't telegraph that Stephen is an insecure who tries to make up for it by acting like a know-it-all jerk, but we sense it anyway. Subtle but effective work from Emge. Same thing with Scott Reiniger who deftly shapes Roger as a fun-loving party-boy who also has a heart of gold. Unfortunately, he's also reckless and pays for this flaw, dearly. Finally, Ken Foree as the wise and earthy Peter brings a cool head and no-nonsense manner to the proceedings, which is crucial for them to survive their predicament.
By the time DAWN OF THE DEAD approaches its grim and bloody climax, you feel like you know these people - and hope they don't get ripped apart after having fought so long and survived so much. That's a testament to the careful and sensitive way that Romero lets the story unfold. Yes, he wants to scare us - but he also wants to make us care enough to think: if we let lifeless material things define us (like houses, TVs, cars, etc.), and not living vibrant things (love, friendships, family), then are we not dead inside already?
Deep thoughts for what appears to be just a zombie movie, eh?
