DAWN OF THE DEAD movie review

DAWN OF THE DEAD (1978) Dir. George A. Romero

Starring: David Emge, Ken Foree, Scott H. Reiniger, and Gaylen Ross

It took George Romero another ten years to get the next chapter in his Living Dead saga made.  After a court battle with co-producer John Russo from Night of the Living Dead, it was decided that Russo’s titles could feature the phrase, “of the Living Dead”, while Romero was now to use, “of the Dead”. (Dawn, Day, Land, Diary, Survival).  This legal matter was probably expected when you had so many different investors who wished to continue making these Zombie films but no one single person owned the rights.  Regardless of rights George A. Romero is considered the Father of the genre.

So in 1978, with the help of Italian director Dario Argento, Romero created DAWN OF THE DEAD.  The deal the two struck was that Romero could make the version he wanted and distribute it in the USA, while Argento would have the right to re-edit as he saw fight for a European release.   Romero assembled a team, which featured Vietnam Veteran Tom Savini as Make up FX creator, and this film was shot in color creating a whole new sense of style and freedom for Romero.

This time around we get another group of pseudo-strangers forced together to flee a society that is breaking down quickly.  The number of zombies has multiplied greatly from Night of the Living Dead and now rescue stations and safe havens were becoming scarce.  Two members of a Swat Team and two members of a news crew take flight in a helicopter looking for a place to go.  With fuel running low, they spot a mall and decide there would be a good place to land and figure out what to do next.  But once in the mall the group realizes that staying put with all this commerce at their disposal may be the best option.

Things go well for awhile, and this group isn’t prone to the ego and infighting as were the characters in Night, but once again the strongest character is a black man named Peter.  The other two men are weaker; one is cowardly while the other is reckless.  And of course there is a woman in the mix, this time not catatonic, but cast to the background until she demands to learn how to use a weapon and fly the helicopter.  Again Romero claims to not have intentionally cast a black man in the hero role, and also has written a somewhat stronger female character, although her role in the efforts of these men is limited.

Things go well for awhile, but soon recklessness and necessary chance come at a price.  There are just too many zombies.   Romero uses the mall and the surrounding area to show the isolation these characters feel, even in a place so large as a mall.  At that time in the 70’s shopping malls were scarce and new to the American Consumer.  The film has always been seen as a commentary on American Consumerism, something I have never quite agreed with.  I just think that holing up in a place so large with all it has to offer is a wise choice, although the characters do have some fun shopping once they feel secure, but hey there is boredom to reckon with.

Now to shift focus on the zombies and how they look in this film; Romero is using color and with the introduction of Tom Savini what we get are truly horrific looking creatures.  Savini has claimed to have gone for the type of realism he saw while fighting in Vietnam and everything from decaying flesh to brutal gunshot wounds are plentiful in this film.  This level of gore and violence was still rare in American Cinema, but it an esthetic approach Romero used and would continue to use in each of the other zombie films he would create.   Savini used make up FX to create zombies that had just turned, as well as zombies that were further along in their decay, as well as a whole host of zombie created wounds. 

Now shooting in a working mall was not easy.  The mall would be open during the day, but from 10pm until 7am, the cast and crew had their way with the place.  The film was shot only at night, except for some daytime stuff that was picked up later on.  It was budgeted at a mere $650,000 and looks fantastic based on such limited financing.  One interesting fact is that the entire ending scene when the Bikers crash the mall and let in all the zombies was basically all improvised and not originally part of Romero’s script.  You get that feeling when watching the part of the movie as the story pauses for some real insanity and fun.  This gory horror flick definitely has a subtle sense of humor and is part of what makes it great. 

Ultimately, as would be expected some of the cast dies, but this time around not all of them do.  Peter, the hero and Fran the ever-stronger female survive, but not before Peter tells Fran to leave while he stays behind to shot himself.  He has a change of heart and suddenly finds himself in a fist fight with many zombies with some of the cheesiest A-Team sounding music, adding to the humor and horror of the scene.  Romero originally intended on Peter killing himself and Fran getting on the helicopter and then sticking her head in the rotating blade, but decided to allow some characters to survive.

The film ends with the two acknowledging that they are low on fuel, and don’t know where to go next.  Although they have survived the movie, we have no reason to believe or know how long or if they will survive later.

Added Note:  Argento’s edit of the movie cuts out a lot of the humor and he changes the music to actually create a more horrific and tighter version that Romero’s.  Romero’s is more fun, but Argento’s is more horrifying.

Romero’s Grade: A

Argento’s Grade: A+

The Girl with the Dog

My minds a jumble of thoughts right now. Not really different than any other moment of any other day.  But I am frantic with someone whom I met tonight who touched me deeply and profoundly.   She walked through the doors to my job with a "special needs" dog with her.  This dog can anticipate when she is going to have a seizure and assist in making sure she is as safe as possible.

Now, not only should this dog be recognized with the Nobel Prize, but this young woman possessed my soul with the bravery through the challenges she faces on a day by day basis.  My mother is Epileptic and my best friend has a Seizure Disorder, so when I met this girl I found myself desperate for answers to so many questions I have regarding what its like to live a life knowing that at any moment, on a daily basis, you're going to have a seizure.  And she told me she has at least four a week ranging from Petite Mal and Grand Mal's to full out convulsions.

My heart went into overdrive with compassion and sadness for her.  She is so young and beautiful and forced to endure such a heavy burden.  But I realize that we all have burdens to endure, some bigger than others.  But one thing we both agreed on was that trusting in God makes a big difference in how the battle is waged and how we feel about ourself and our worth.

She can't work, she can't drive, and she needs assistance in living day by day, yet to look at her, none of that is apparant, nor does it matter.   She really is no different that you or I.  She smiles, she has desires and she has dreams.  I just hope she realizes that her dreams can come true and that she deserves every wish she wishes.  Her life has purpose and meaning and she was put on this Earth for a reason that is purely special to her. 

Of course she has had her moments of doubt and depression, but she just can't give up. I don't want her to give up. I want her to know she has life and is full of life.  I want her to know that ten minutes of speaking with her touched my life so greatly.  God wanted me to meet her. Why? To make me realize my own problems can be so small, or to make me understand the suffering of others. I also feel like she can help me help my best friend who seems so lost and victimized by his similar disease. 

I pray to my Higher Power to help her see how beautiful life is and how much purpose she serves just by getting up each day and living life.  And I want God to surround her with people who won't judge her or pity her.  I want her to be surrounded by people who will pick her up when she falls, because she will fall.  But she won't lose.

So, if you're reading this "J", just know that you touched my heart and I pray that you realize you are meant to be here and you weren't born to suffer.  You were born to inspire.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=POVBgm7KH3M

The Angry Cup of Coffee

On a calm sunday morning I found myself at the local Starbucks sitting for coffee with a friend in the program.  It was our first "bro date".  We had hung out one time previously, serving dinner to wounded military men and it was a good time.  But this sunday morning seemed to be wrought with an air of tension. 

We sat and shared coffee and stories.  I noticed his bottle of NAKED JUICE, that claims to be organic and with no sugar added, but the sugar content in the bottle was 60grams anyway.  I was amazed.  I have begun to notice all this organic, no sugar added-type food that sits on the shelves at Trader Joe's and Whole Foods is really not all that healthy. In fact some of it is down right unhealthy.  So I made a comment to my friend, wanting to share my discovery, but I think he felt that I was somehow judging him.  He seemed offended and upset, as if I would choose a bottle of juice to attack or judge someone.  Come on I may be petty but I am not that petty.

We started talking about careers and I told him that I would like to get out of the Restuarant Industry because I want a more normal schedule and am tired with dealing with an ever increasingly moronic public.  But I also confessed that the Restaurant Industry is what I know and that I am good at it.  I could manage a fine establishment but would rather find a new career.  My already offended friend took this to mean that I was non-commital, and that I couldn't decide what I wanted.

What I am good at and what I want are two different things, or so I tried to explain.  I don't think he cared, because he basically started ranting that he didn't "believe in me" and then told me that I didn't need to get angry.  For a moment I thought he was speaking to someone else because I certainly wasn't angry or getting angry or thinking about anger. I was reeling from this sudden change in mood and trying to digest why I was suddenly being judged so harshly.

Was it a misunderstanding? Was he having a rough morning, or was it my comment about how unhealthy his juice was?

And after a minute or two of telling me he was not going to help me and that my resume was merely a rough draft he abruptly told me he had to go.

I was dumbfounded.  My desire for a relaxing cup of coffee had turned into a resentment and anger-filled rant by someone I don't really know who could probably break me in half without breaking a sweat and for a moment I thought he was going to.

We headed toward the exit, but not before I got a refill on my coffee.  Standing at the counter he threw a few more accusations my way and alot more not so subtle anger and annoyance.  He brought up the juice, and I had realized that my comments on the juice were somehow behind all of this!!!  I again tried to explain that I was commenting on the juice because I was suprised by it, not judging his choice. Of course, he then accused me of needing to justify my actions.

Oh boy.  So we headed out to the parking lot and he shook my hand and said, "so long".  I walked to my car shaking my head still trying to understand what had happened. 

I think I know what happened, and it irritates me, but I cannot control other people. I'm really disappointed in how this meeting turned out. 

Next time I think I'll just get some coffee by myself .

Hearts of Darkness

We all have a dark side. 

We go about our day smiling at strangers and talking with friends and family trying our best not to reveal our dark side. We may see glimpses of it in arguments and fights, but that is only the surface of the dark side which many of us have.  What I am referring to is the part that we mainly keep to ourselves; the part that seeks revenge and death on those who have wronged us.  That part of us that wants to kill Casey Anthony or OJ Simpson for getting away with murder, but also that part of us that wants to run the asshole off the road who has just cut us off in traffic.

Some of us have a darker side than others. Some refuse to look at their dark side, while others live in it.  We lie, we cheat, we steal and sometimes we kill.  Or at the very least we wish death on people.

But how do we control that side?  How do we hide it from others, or better yet how do we hide it from ourselves.  I guess you'd have to ask each person. 

For me there is a part that contains unconditional love and laughter, but there also lingers this "dark passenger" that wants to kill.  Wants to watch those who have wronged me suffer.

This is probably why I am so drawn to shows like Dexter and anti-hero's like Dexter, Tony Soprano, Vic Mackey and all the other sociopaths who lie, cheat and murder their way through life.

Dexter lives by a code that only guilty people will die by his hand, and his measure of guilt is if a person has murdered someone else.  But aren't there people who haven't killed others who are deserving of the same fate?

My dark side will tell you that you don't have to be a killer to deserve death.  My dark side will say alot of things to help me revel in angry emptiness.  My dark side is scary because its speaks to me in my own voice and uses my own logic to convince me of what I should not be convinced of.

Am I crazy? Am I unstable, or am I just honest.  Life is not all bubble letters and cotton candy.

Life is the light and the dark.  The sun and the moon.  Life is whatever voice we are listening to at that moment.  We just hope that we never allow ourselves to wallow to far into the deep end of the dark side.

Vengance and hatred will eat you up.  If you look closely at me, you'll see bits of flesh that have been gnawed and clawed from my body. And sometimes that smile you see, hides very dangerous thoughts.

The Code

Sick people lie!
Sick people lie!
Sick people lie!

Nope, doesn't make me feel better to say that or know that!

Who can you trust?
What can you trust?
When can you trust?

Sick people lie!
Sick people lie!

There is no code for them.
No code.

The Too Much Cummer

I have been watching the wonderful TV show, HUNG, about a female pimp and her male prostitute.  Early on in season one she asks him why he never called her back after they fucked one night.

His reply was, "You cum to much."

I laughed but then got to thinking, "Can a woman cum to much"?  And then I delved back into the short lived, but interesting relationship that I just got out of and answered, "Yeah, possibly".

Jane Adams plays the female pimp on the  show.


And what's funny is she resembles the woman I just dated.  And Jane's character's personality mirrors my ex's personality so much in that they are both women who are desperate to show they are strong and will not be pushed around.  The love making is another form of showing that desperation.

The woman I dated would quiver the moment your lips locked with hers, and I am not complaining, I wish other women had such responsiveness, but then it got to be a bit too much.  She would cling to me like a t-shirt that was three sizes too small for my body.  She'd wrestle her way closer to me, as if being inside of her wasn't close enough.  I know everyone says, "Oh god" and, "Oh fuck" when they are fucking and also, "oh (insert name here)", but she was non-stop with it.  And soon her voice and her body were quivering in syncopation and she'd rev up more and more until it started to sound like she was crying. 

It's at the moment of crying or sounding like crying where I found myself getting concerned.  I like getting a woman off, but I don't see where crying enters into it.  Now in her defense I never saw any actual tears, but all the same it seemed like she was crying.

So after we had finished our relationship and I watched HUNG, I chuckled when I realized the similarities between these two women and their tendency to "cum" to much. 

In the end, truthfully, a woman can never cum to much.  Its how they show their sexuality and I'd rather them be loud and clingy, then lay there as if they had died a week earlier.  That's the worst.
I dated someone like that before and the sex was awful. She had no responsiveness at all.  But I digress.

But I do gotta admit, crying or almost crying after sex sorta freaks me out.  But I'm sure I'll learn to deal.
God does she look like Kelly.

Christmas In My Back Pocket

Well it has arrived again.  Nothing any sane man can do about it.  Christmas.  What do love most about Christmas?  It marks the end of non stop holiday music, mad dashes to the stores for gifts and groceries, and the end of the "gimme gimme" attitude that possesses so many starting the day after Thanksgiving. 

It's also hard to deny the joy of watching little children getting so excited about the gifts that Santa brought them.  Its a magical time in their lives when they believe in magic, and have no clue as to who Santa really is and how hard he/she works each day to save money to make those dreams come true.

Christmas is also a good time for families to spend together laughing and eating and telling stories about days gone by.

Its especially great this year because its 43 degrees and not a drop of snow.  Its like its still October. 

Tomorrow it'll be like Christmas never existed.  The radio stations who crammed yuletide music down my throat and up my ass will be back to playing Taylor Swift and Celine Dion. 

Then we start looking toward New Years Eve, a night so depressing to the single and lonely, it may be the end of a year for good, while to others its the eve of starting a new year, with new chances and change.

I for one will be home alone, with the cats, praying that 2012 goes a lot smoother while asking my Higher Power what more I can do to improve my life and  my sense of self satisfaction.

What a long strange trip it continues to be......