The George A. Romero Zombie Cycle Part 4: Land of the Dead

The George A. Romero Zombie Cycle

Wel­come to The George A. Romero Zom­bie Cycle Film Fes­ti­val. Join The Dork Report in revis­it­ing all five canon­i­cal episodes in the orig­i­nal epic zom­bie saga:

Land of the Dead movie poster

 

George A. Romero’s spo­radic zom­bie flicks are some­times decades apart in pro­duc­tion, but nev­er­the­less form a chrono­log­i­cal sequence telling the story of the down­fall of soci­ety from every angle. Night of the Liv­ing Dead (1968) is set in the early days, with a few ran­dom civil­ians trapped in a farm­house. Dawn of the Dead (1979) zooms out a lit­tle to see what’s going on in cities and sub­ur­bia, and Day of the Dead (1985) exam­ines a final remain­ing pocket of sur­vivors months into the plague. Land of the Dead opens some time after the zom­bie epi­demic has swept the world, and the sur­viv­ing dregs of human­ity have retreated behind the for­ti­fied walls of the ulti­mate gated com­mu­nity, a city dubbed Fiddler’s Green. Romero has used each of his zom­bie films to satir­i­cally artic­u­late some social com­men­tary, and here his tar­gets seem to be big busi­ness and class war­fare. Another pos­si­ble alle­gor­i­cal tar­get is the Israel / Pales­tine con­flict. Have humans walled the zom­bies out, or walled them­selves in?

A man named Kauf­man (Den­nis Hop­per) has set him­self up as mayor/president/king of Fiddler’s Green. Kauf­man is very much a busi­ness­man along the lines of Don­ald Trump or Michael Bloomberg, so here Romero seems to equate big busi­ness with total­i­tar­i­an­ism. Kaufman’s machi­na­tions ensure that his sup­posed safe haven is actu­ally a highly tiered class soci­ety. The rich live in high-rise com­fort while the under­classes starve in skeezy street-level slums. We know soci­ety is truly depraved when caged go-go dancers are the only form of entertainment.

Eugene Clark in George A. Romero's Land of the Deadwet zom­bies smell like wet, uh, zombies

In the world out­side, the zom­bies have long since eaten all humans within reach, and have noth­ing left to do but stand around. Despite the big bud­get, there only seem to be about a dozen of them. Some have returned to old rou­tines: work­ing gas sta­tions, push­ing shop­ping carts, and bang­ing tam­bourines. Dawn of the Dead showed zom­bies instinc­tu­ally drawn to the shop­ping mall (a new Amer­i­can inno­va­tion at the time) like pil­grims to Mecca. But Land of the Dead Goes fur­ther and sug­gests they have even greater pow­ers of logic, and can feel actual emo­tions such as vic­tim­iza­tion. Their leader Big Daddy (Eugene Clark) is soul­ful and sym­pa­thetic like Bub the zom­bie from Day of the Dead.

Kauf­man sends min­ions Riley (Nathan Fil­lon) and Cholo (John Leguizamo) out into the infested waste­lands, in car­a­vans of heav­ily armored vehi­cles. They dis­tract the “stench” (the deroga­tory term of choice for the undead) with fire­works as they loot for food and valu­ables to cart back to stock Kaufman’s larders in Fiddler’s Green. Riley and Cholo are old friends since fallen out, and their rela­tion­ship pro­vides the one gen­uinely funny bit of dia­logue: happy-go-lucky Cholo tells the per­pet­u­ally dour Riley: “Didn’t I tell you not to bang chicks with worse prob­lems than you?” That’s not bad advice, actually.

The intel­li­gent zom­bies, appar­ently feel­ing dis­en­fran­chised, orga­nize and mount an attack on the city. Any­way, Riley and Cholo finally become dis­il­lu­sioned about Kaufman’s utopia. Together with Slack (Asia Argento, daugh­ter of Dario Argento, who col­lab­o­rated with Romero on Dawn of the Dead), they try to escape for the imag­ined safe haven of Canada (as if they think they are merely dodg­ing the draft and not the twin threats of plague and humanity’s own venal over­lords). In true Romero fash­ion, the vil­lain­ous Kauf­man also hap­pens to be a racist, shout­ing epi­thets at the zomb­i­fied Cholo (John Leguizom­bie?) as he comes to kill him. If there ever were a point in human his­tory when race will have truly become irrel­e­vant, this ought to be it.

Dennis Hopper in George A. Romeros' Land of the DeadDen­nis Hop­per as the mayor from hell, or is that the mayor OF hell?

I don’t think Romero and his zom­bie films would be remem­bered with­out the racially charged end­ing of Night of the Liv­ing Dead and the pointed satire of con­sumerism found in Dawn of the Dead. But if he had started out with some­thing as unfo­cused as Land of the Dead, he prob­a­bly wouldn’t have been. Romero admits to Par­al­lax view he didn’t fully work out the anal­ogy: “I have to tell you that even when we started to shoot, I was wor­ried that this isn’t quite clear. Who are the ter­ror­ists, is it Cholo and his gang or the zom­bies? And it gave me a lit­tle pause, but we had to start shoot­ing because we had the money. I’m being per­fectly hon­est, I have to sit down and re-analyze it and fig­ure it out. Some­times you just run on instinct.” Even the round­table of hor­ror afi­ciona­dos on InternalBleeding.net agree that the movie is “not scary, but really gross.”

Land of the Dead obvi­ously has the biggest bud­get of all of Romero’s zom­bie cycle so far, and remains the only one with well-known stars. But it is only super­fi­cially “bet­ter” than its pre­de­ces­sors, fea­tur­ing big­ger names and more tech­no­log­i­cal pol­ish. As is the case with many a Hol­ly­wood pro­duc­tion, raised finan­cial stakes bring a low­er­ing of stan­dards and dimin­ish­ing returns: more money in, more shit out. A “some time ago…” pro­logue mon­tage illus­trates for the slower mem­bers of the audi­ence what zom­bies are all about. Per­haps the movie stu­dio exec­u­tives were pitch­ing the film to audi­ences beyond the usual hor­ror genre ghetto already versed with the zom­bie genre.


Offi­cial movie site: www.landofthedeadmovie.net

Homepageofthedead.com’s exten­sive archive of Land of the Dead info

Must read: The Light That Failed: George Romero’s Dead Rock On by Kath­leen Mur­phy; and George Romero Sur­veys the Dead by Sean Axmaker, both on Par­al­lax View

Buy the DVD from Ama­zon and kick back a few pen­nies to The Dork Report.


The Happening

The Happening movie poster

 

The Hap­pen­ing is the lat­est in a long line of Hol­ly­wood movies that depict attacks of one sort (ter­ror­ist) or another (alien) upon New York City. A mys­te­ri­ous mass hys­te­ria strikes the idyl­lic Bethesda Ter­race (a place I walk through sev­eral times a week) in Manhattan’s Cen­tral Park, and quickly fans out to the entire city. What is later referred to as “the event” or “the hap­pen­ing” (the lat­ter a term pop­u­lar­ized by hip­pies, I believe) appears to be some kind of air­borne toxin that causes every human being within range to calmly and pas­sively com­mit sui­cide. Speak­ing as a New Yorker that lived through 9/11, this open­ing sequence pushes fewer emo­tional but­tons than, say Clover­field (read The Dork Report review), which was explic­itly anal­o­gous to post-9/11 New York as Godzilla was to post-Hiroshima and Nagasaki Japan. But it’s impos­si­ble to not be shaken by the charged image of office work­ers will­ingly jump­ing to their deaths from skyscrapers.

Hav­ing ticked the dis­as­ter movie genre box of “whole­sale mas­sacre in Man­hat­tan,” writer/director/producer M. Night Shya­malan aban­dons New York for the remain­der of the movie and trans­fers the action to his old stomp­ing grounds of Philadel­phia, PA. High school teach­ers Eliot (“Marky” Mark Wahlberg) and Julian (John Leguizamo) catch wind (so to speak) of the event, and pre­sciently make plans to take the next Amtrak train out of 30th Street Sta­tion with their fam­i­lies. Eliot is expe­ri­enc­ing some fric­tion in his mar­riage with Alma (Zooey Deschanel), and warns Julian that she may be act­ing “weird.” It’s up to the viewer to decide if he’s talk­ing about the char­ac­ter Alma or the actress Zooey, whose eyes and face were truly made for the movies but whose eccen­tric line read­ings are indeed “weird.”

Mark Wahlberg and Zooey Deschanel in The HappeningBeau­ti­ful down­town Fil­bert, PA

The train halts on the way from Philly to Har­ris­burg, strand­ing the occu­pants in the mid­dle of nowhere — which is to say, the real-life small town Fil­bert, PA. Sci­ence teacher Eliot berates him­self “be sci­en­tific, douchebag!” and uses logic to deduce the facts from the bits of evi­dence he’s picked up along the way: his hunch is that they are not expe­ri­enc­ing a ter­ror­ist chem­i­cal attack, but rather that the earth’s bios­phere is releas­ing a fatal toxin tar­geted to areas heav­ily pop­u­lated by humans. They set off on foot in small groups into the kind of beau­ti­ful rolling fields where Shya­malan set his ear­lier para­ble The Vil­lage (read The Dork Report review).

They come across a for-sale “Model Home”, a giant McMan­sion full of arti­fi­cial good­ies. The per­fect dream home is actu­ally in no way a refuge: there is no food or shel­ter, and it only serves as a lure to other groups less enlight­ened than they; the mere arrival of even one more fel­low trav­eller could boost the local pop­u­la­tion to a point where the plants may attack. Here The film’s first hint of humor appears: Eliot notices a giant indoor plant eerily loom­ing in a cor­ner. He attempts to nego­ti­ate with it for the future of human­ity, until he real­izes that it too is plas­tic. The arti­fi­cial model home is a blunt metaphor for humanity’s dis­pos­able con­sumerism and impact upon the environment.

The HappeningMan­hat­tan is destroyed for the 4,937th time by Hollywood

At this point, The Hap­pen­ing becomes a dif­fer­ent movie, a bet­ter one, receiv­ing a much-needed injec­tion of Shyamalan’s char­ac­ter­is­tic wit and mas­ter­ful use of hor­ror and sus­pense tropes: creepy shad­ows half glimpsed through win­dow slats, batty old lady (Betty Buck­ley) with creepy dolls in her bed, etc. But over­all it’s unchar­ac­ter­is­ti­cally clumsy. His best films (for my money: The Sixth Sense, Unbreak­able, and Signs) are plot­ted so tight you couldn’t remove a sin­gle frame with­out harm­ing them.

It’s unfor­tu­nately over­writ­ten with pages and pages of poor dia­logue, includ­ing this unin­ten­tional howler fea­tured in the trailer: note Marky Mark’s impec­ca­ble gram­mar upon being told his Amtrak train has lost con­tact: “With whom?” Julian also states with odd for­mal­ity that his wife is trav­el­ling sep­a­rately to “the town of Prince­ton.” To be char­i­ta­ble, per­haps Shya­malan fig­ured high school teach­ers might habit­u­ally speak clearly with cor­rect grammar.

John Leguizamo and Mark Wahlberg in The HappeningDo we have time for a cheeses­teak and some Antie Anne’s before our train to nowhere?

There’s too strong a reliance on fake tele­vi­sion news broad­casts to con­vey expo­si­tion (a device only resorted to once or twice in Signs), even con­clud­ing the film with a talk­ing head sci­en­tist explain­ing the take­away mes­sage for the slower mem­bers of the audi­ence: “we’re threat­en­ing the planet.” Watch The Sixth Sense and Unbreak­able again and see how much Shya­malan at his best is able to com­mu­ni­cate with­out dia­logue. How much would Unbreak­able have sucked if Bruce Willis’ char­ac­ter had openly mused about how he was turn­ing into Superman?

Sig­nif­i­cantly for a direc­tor known for work­ing in the hor­ror & sus­pense gen­res (fan­tasy, too, if you count the exe­crable mis­step The Lady in the Water — read The Dork Report review), The Hap­pen­ing is Shyamalan’s first R-rated movie. As if to live up to its hor­ror film billing, the nar­ra­tive fre­quently pauses for con­spic­u­ously gory set-pieces: a woman stabs her­self with a knit­ting nee­dle, a man sets a lawn mower to run over him­self, etc. The brief episodes of gore con­trast with what must have been the major chal­lenge for his story: to visu­al­ize some­thing inher­ently invis­i­ble: a wind-born toxin. Shya­malan sig­nals an oncom­ing attack with gusts of wind. Which is, of course, pre­pos­ter­ous because plants don’t cause wind (if my mem­ory of ele­men­tary school sci­ence is cor­rect, the wind starts from the motions of the tides). The char­ac­ters out­run­ning wind is about as pre­pos­ter­ous as the advanc­ing killer frost in Roland Emmerich’s envi­ron­men­tal dis­as­ter movie The Day After Tomorrow.

Zooey Deschanel and Marky Mark Wahlberg in The HappeningZooey Deschanel and Marky Mark Wahlberg peek around the cor­ner for the next plot twist

The film’s envi­ron­men­tal issues first appear with a faint fla­vor of cre­ation­ism in an early scene set in Eliot’s class­room. He believes there are aspects of nature we may never truly under­stand, although sci­ence may slap an expla­na­tion on them in ret­ro­spect. But “just a the­ory” is the lan­guage of anti-intellectual cre­ation­ists who wish to dis­count evo­lu­tion. In Shyamalan’s hindu world­view, does an act of nature equal an act of god? Is the earth being mali­cious, defen­sive, or both? The planet may not be act­ing with con­scious intel­li­gence, but rather as a mere reac­tion to stim­uli; a kind of thin­ning of the herds.

As was the case with the 2003 black­out in the north­east, Shya­malan was cor­rect in observ­ing that everyone’s first the­ory in any post 9/11 calamity would be that it’s a ter­ror­ist attack. But it’s pretty much estab­lished very early that the cul­prits are the plants. This pretty much drains the sus­pense out of the pic­ture, and I actu­ally wished for one of Shyamalan’s patented twist end­ings. It does seem hugely wimpy com­pared the ruth­less and unspar­ing The Mist (read The Dork Report review). If Shya­malan had had the guts to go for a bleak end­ing like writer/director Frank Darabont’s Stephen King adap­ta­tion, The Hap­pen­ing might have been bet­ter received and per­haps remem­bered as one of his best.


Offi­cial movie site: www.thehappeningmovie.com

Buy the DVD from Ama­zon and kick back a few pen­nies to The Dork Report.