SLIMEGUY

By Greg Lamberson

Remaking Romero

When I was 12 years old, my uncle took me to a double feature at a revival theatre in Washington, D.C. The first film on the bill was the original KING KONG, which had mesmerized me countless times on TV. I'd never seen the second feature, which had seemed taboo to me ever since I ‘d first glimpsed an ad for its novelization in the pages of Forrest J. Ackerman's Famous Monsters of Filmland : NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. The cover of that paperback showed clawed hands reaching out for the reader, and I knew that I didn't want them to get a hold of me. Sitting in that darkened theatre, I jumped in my seat for the first time in my life.

And loved it.

I felt relieved when Ben (Duane Jones) looked out the window of that Pennsylvania farmhouse and saw sunlight. He had survived the night of flesh eating zombies, and I had survived it with him. Then a member of the local citizens' brigade shot Ben to death, mistaking him for a zombie. Or did he? NOTLD broke new ground by casting Duane Jones as the lead, the only African American in the cast. And those zombie hunters sure looked like rednecks to me. The grim coda left me numb: grainy black and white stills of authorities dragging Ben's corpse over to a pile of other bodies (Hippies? Immigrants? What if none of them were zombies?), which they set on fire. George Romero, the film's director and co-writer, made his point clear: the world isn't just an unfair place, it's a downright mean one. And our own neighbors can be bigger threats than the walking dead. I hadn't been so distraught since the ending of the Dan Curtis TV production of THE NIGHT STALKER, in which reporter Carl Kolchak staked a vampire that had been terrorizing Las Vegas, only to have the authorities destroy his life and run him out of town.

Two years later, my uncle took me to a different theatre to see Romero's sublime sequel, DAWN OF THE DEAD. I'd been reading about the film in FANGORIA, which featured color photos from the film, something that Uncle Forry could never afford to do in Famous Monsters . Looking at the famous shot of that open mouthed zombie with the machete buried in his cranium, I just knew that this film was going to be it . And it was. Romero painted the screen red in an onslaught of comic book violence. He also made us laugh at how human his shopping mall zombies remained, skewering American consumerism in the process. The main hero was black again, his three sidekicks white. None of them were pretty. In the opening sequence, a SWAT team assaults a housing project where residents have refused to turn over their dead for proper disposal. Mayhem ensues. What's more frightening: the man who bites a chunk out of his wife's shoulder in excruciating close up, or the racist SWAT cop who indiscriminately kills the minorities occupying the project as well as the zombies he was sent to exterminate? Romero's social commentary percolates beneath the surface of his wildly entertaining film, which he wrote by himself.

I was an adult when DAY OF THE DEAD opened in 1985, and a year away from directing my first film. Although DAY was delightful fun, it lacked the aggressive rawness of its predecessors. The characters were cartoonish, the dialogue interminable, the underground military setting hard to identify with. The film was slick, eschewing the verite technique of the original and the garish palette of the first sequel. The “it's only a dream” prologue and epilogue only remind us that we're watching a movie; the “you are there” immediacy is nowhere to be found. But who can forget Bub, the domesticated zombie, or mad Dr. Logan, or the sequence in which Sarah (Lori Cordille) amputates the arm of her lover, Miguel (Anthony Dileo Jr.) with a machete? And of course, Tom Savini delivered his best makeup FX.

There are only a handful of artists whom I list among my heroes. On the printed page, it's Richard Matheson, whose works include the novels I Am Legend , The Shrinking Man , and Hell House ; the screenplays for several classic Roger Corman films, and teleplays for THE TWILIGHT ZONE, THE NIGHT STALKER, and TRILOGY OF TERROR. On television, it's producer-director Dan Curtis, the man behind DARK SHADOWS, TRILOGY OF TERROR… and THE NIGHT STALKER. And on the big screen, it's George Romero all the way.

Besides his Dead Trilogy, Romero's horror ouvre includes THE CRAZIES, MARTIN, CREEPSHOW, MONKEYSHINES, THE DARK HALF, and the TV series TALES FROM THE DARK SIDE. His non-horror work includes KNIGHTRIDERS, a wonderful but little seen Harley Davidson take on Camelot, and THERE'S ALWAYS VANILLA. In recent years, the only film he's been unable to get off the ground was BRUISER, which went straight to DVD. He's lived (quite well) on development money for several unproduced projects, including a version of THE MUMMY. And his script for a fourth Dead film, LAND OF THE DEAD (formerly DEAD RECKONING), has gone unfilmed, although Fox Searchlight has it in active development. While Romero's career stagnates, several filmmakers are riding his coattails and making their living and reputations on spinoffs of his creations.

Which is a shame.

Romero didn't create zombies, but he did create the modern interpretation of them, inspiring such films as ZOMBIE and a horde of Italian imitations. John Russo, who co-wrote the screenplay for NOTLD (and that novelization with the cover that terrified me as a kid), wrote a sequel novel, Return of the Living Dead , which posited a scenario in which the world has somehow forgotten about the events of NOTLD. Producers purchased the rights to the novel, then wisely jettisoned Russo's story and retained only its title. Dan O'Bannon, who created ALIEN and finessed the screenplay for Gary Sherman's DEAD & BURIED, wrote and directed the film, an entertaining pastiche that has developed its own cult following. O'Bannon had tremendous respect for Romero, and avoided stepping on his predecessor's creative toes.

In 1993, Russo, once the driving force behind Scream Queens magazine, teamed up with Bill Hinzman, the actor who played the zombie in the opening graveyard sequence of NOTLD, to produce a “special edition”of the film for its 25 th anniversary that included Hinzman in new scenes explaining the “origin” of his character—despite Hinzman having aged 25 years! Existing scenes from the film were cut to make room for this poorly shot revisionist material, a new score replaced Romero's canned music, and the film's grain—which added so much to the atmosphere-- was cleaned up via digital technology. The resulting mess was one of the most painful viewing experiences I've ever had; I destroyed my video copy, hoping to spare at least one future soul from enduring the same inanity. Russo went on to executive produce CHILDREN OF THE LIVING DEAD, a muddled, amateur production “starring” makeup FX maestro Tom Savini (at least in 10 minutes of footage, anyway).

Romero himself developed a screen version of RESIDENT EVIL, the video game inspired by his films, but he was replaced by Paul Anderson. The success of that silly production has reportedly helped Russo to raise serious money for his next project, ESCAPE FROM THE LIVING DEAD. And RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD spawned two sequels, with another pair, to be directed by Tobe Hooper, in the pipeline.

And the worst is yet to come. Richard Rubenstein, who produced DAWN and DAY, sold DAWN's remake rights to Universal Studios, which hired James Gunn, the

ingenious screenwriter behind SCOOBY DOO and the Troma production TERRA FIRMER, to craft the storyline. Youthful Sarah Polley leads the cast, which includes Ving Rhames and Mekhi Phifer; for the first time in a Dead film, a twentysomething

white girl has the lead role, with two black men reduced to supporting roles. The trailer for the film, directed by music video director Zack Snyder, looks more like CHOPPING MALL than anything Romero had a hand in.

In 1990, George Romero wrote and produced a remake of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD, directed by Tom, Savini. It was an unnecessary film, but not an invalid one. Some people just won't watch black and white films, and some television stations won't air them. The title NOTLD had lapsed into public domain through shoddy paperwork, and the remake essentially served to trademark the title. It also returned money to the investors of the original film, who had been screwed by distributors. And it wasn't bad; it had some meat on its bones, and enough twists to make it fun.

Unfortunately, the LIVING DEAD title is now owned by Romero's

former producer, Richard Rubenstein. And Fox Searchlight does not want to go forward with LAND OF THE DEAD unless they get the rights to that title. So Rubenstein, who sold the DAWN remake rights to Universal, is (wittingly or unwittingly) standing in the way of Romero making a legitimate sequel to his series. While Rubenstein, Russo, O'Bannon, Hooper, Gunn and Snyder profit by “tweaking” Romero's material, the actual creator of this series cannot make the film that he wants to make and his fans want to see.

Romero is an artist. He has things to say, and he understands how to use subtext to say them. Do you see any subtext in these other productions? Of course not. “But the DAWN remake might be fun,” you say. “It might be entertaining . I go to the movies to have fun.” I can remember when STAR WARS and RAIDERS OF THE LOST ARK constituted mindless entertainment. Now they're regarded as classics. Will RESIDENT EVIL ever be considered a classic? It was a brain dead film, and I guarantee that the DAWN remake will be just as bad. It will be a dumbed down version of the original. The screenplay has already been savaged in on-line reviews. “But a screenplay is just a blueprint,” you argue. If it ain't on the page, it ain't on the stage. The new film's trailer shows us glimpses of what to expect: CGI zombies, broad characterizations, mindless action, hyperactive editing.

And it will make a lot of money.

And it will lead to more sequels that will not benefit from Romero's involvement.

And Richard Rubenstein, James Gunn and Zack Snyder will make a lot of money, while Romero will not.

Why settle for superficial remakes when you can have the real deal?

Those who settle for mediocrity deserve what they get.

And George Romero deserves better from his fans.