Land of the Dead Review
The more fantastic something seems, the less scary it is. George A. Romero's genius is grounding his nigthmarish visions of the walking dead in stark realism. The Zeus of Zombies is in top form in the recently released and long-awaited "Land of the Dead."
Some view the dramatic underpinning of Romero's zombie quartet (Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead and now Land) as mere subtext. All of Romero's zombie films depict man's inability to rise above his most primative faults (the implied sexism is intended as women are spared Romero's social scorn). But the way the living respond to the zombie apocolypse doesn't merely give Romero's series artistic weight, it adds to the sense of dread. Heroes are in such short supply and so starkly contrasted that even the most cynical viewer becomes emotionally invested in them. The modest goal of short-term survival is enough to root for after we've giving up hope that a cavalry might soon arrive to save the day. After all, any group of the living that appears on a nearby horizon is likely to be more inhuman and threatening than the zombies. It's as if Romero's telling us, "Pick your poison."
In "Night," Romero said goodbye to the 1960s and all its failed promises, as the happy ending literally laid on the doorstep gets callously blasted into oblivion. "Dawn" famously skewered American consumerism but made the deeper point that the only salvation we might find is satisfying the materialistic desires that are seemingly embedded in our DNA (and which endure even in the living dead). "Day" (the one sub-par film of the lot) showed that militarism easily triumphs over reason when fear is involved, but then only adds to our ills. In "Land of the Dead," Romero unveils what we instinctively know is true: corporate power and money can not only insulate itself from any hell on earth, but will happily toast champagne from its shining tower while poor immigrants debase themselves while struggling for survival on the spoiled ground below.
"Land" is Romero's scariest movie by far, often uncomfortably so. But it will not haunt viewers as "Night" did in pulling a nightmare out of our collective unconscious and cultivating it. Make no mistake, though, Romero's steady stream of horror set pieces will have even the most stout fright fans eyeing the nearest exit.
Of all the aforementioned films, "Land" comes closest to a happy ending. Romero, in fact, said in a recent interview that he's left open the idea of some peaceful coexistence, where the dead might learn to eat something else. The creaturs are now evolving intelligence a sort of zombie humanity (while the living are now desensitized to all violence, no matter how extreme). The zombie leader, a gas station attendant sporting the label "Big Daddy," continues Romero's trend of prominently casting African Americans. Big Daddy (Eugene Clark) is more Malcom X than Martin Luther King as he seeks justice by any means necessary. Romero challenges us by making this grunting pile of rotting flesh as sympathetic as the more conventional lead, the human anti-hero, Riley (Simon Baker).
The other stars perform capably, with John Leguizamo showing surprising range as "Cholo" a mercenary who we don't quite know whether to revile or pity and Dennis Hopper notably restrained as corporate king Kaufman, who has maximized the situation for its profit potential (as would any nimble capitalist).
There is talk in some critical circles that Romero is now merely reduced to aping the genre he invented after it's been taken to new heights critically in "28 Days Later" and commerically with last year's successful remake of "Dawn." But "28 Days Later" owes much of its artistic success to Romero's artistic and it can be fairly said that the entire third act of that film is a remake of "Day." The studio update of "Dawn" suffers when contrasted to Romero's latest, which reminds us of the popcorn soulessness of that film.
For horror fans, "Land" is a stunning achievement in makeup and special effects, rendering trite many of the CGI advances that are have been overexposed so much to us that our eyes are no longer fooled. "Land" has an old-school visual grittiness that nicely amplifies the overall sense of dread.
Romero is also helped by the commercial realities that are in play today, even at the independent level. "Dawn" was the first film to receive a NC-17 rating for non-sexual material in 1979 and "Day" followed suit six years later. This film is rated R and is better for it, as much lingering goriness is left to our ample imagination (which is primed for the task with a enough flahses of blood, limbs and guts to fill a swimming pool on "Cribs").
With "Land" complete, there doesn't seem to be any unchartered zombie ground. The wonderful "Shaun of the Dead" dealt humorously with the nightmare while showing more faith than Romero ever would in the resilience of humanity. The forgotten and hilarious "Return of the Living Dead" was dead on in dealing with panic-stricken stupidity that would surely be a large component of our collective response to a zombie apocolypse.
Some questions remain unanswered. Why do zombies have such bad teeth? "Land" could serve as a public service announcement for proper dental hygiene. But a lack of flossing and waterpicks aren't totally to blame, as zombies seem to get black mouth minutes after "turning." Do all dead turn into zombies or just those bitten? In one pivotal moment, "Land" hints that all dead do, which explains why the ranks keep growing even while so many of the living are fully consumed after being rippled limb from limb.
Some view the dramatic underpinning of Romero's zombie quartet (Night of the Living Dead, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead and now Land) as mere subtext. All of Romero's zombie films depict man's inability to rise above his most primative faults (the implied sexism is intended as women are spared Romero's social scorn). But the way the living respond to the zombie apocolypse doesn't merely give Romero's series artistic weight, it adds to the sense of dread. Heroes are in such short supply and so starkly contrasted that even the most cynical viewer becomes emotionally invested in them. The modest goal of short-term survival is enough to root for after we've giving up hope that a cavalry might soon arrive to save the day. After all, any group of the living that appears on a nearby horizon is likely to be more inhuman and threatening than the zombies. It's as if Romero's telling us, "Pick your poison."
In "Night," Romero said goodbye to the 1960s and all its failed promises, as the happy ending literally laid on the doorstep gets callously blasted into oblivion. "Dawn" famously skewered American consumerism but made the deeper point that the only salvation we might find is satisfying the materialistic desires that are seemingly embedded in our DNA (and which endure even in the living dead). "Day" (the one sub-par film of the lot) showed that militarism easily triumphs over reason when fear is involved, but then only adds to our ills. In "Land of the Dead," Romero unveils what we instinctively know is true: corporate power and money can not only insulate itself from any hell on earth, but will happily toast champagne from its shining tower while poor immigrants debase themselves while struggling for survival on the spoiled ground below.
"Land" is Romero's scariest movie by far, often uncomfortably so. But it will not haunt viewers as "Night" did in pulling a nightmare out of our collective unconscious and cultivating it. Make no mistake, though, Romero's steady stream of horror set pieces will have even the most stout fright fans eyeing the nearest exit.
Of all the aforementioned films, "Land" comes closest to a happy ending. Romero, in fact, said in a recent interview that he's left open the idea of some peaceful coexistence, where the dead might learn to eat something else. The creaturs are now evolving intelligence a sort of zombie humanity (while the living are now desensitized to all violence, no matter how extreme). The zombie leader, a gas station attendant sporting the label "Big Daddy," continues Romero's trend of prominently casting African Americans. Big Daddy (Eugene Clark) is more Malcom X than Martin Luther King as he seeks justice by any means necessary. Romero challenges us by making this grunting pile of rotting flesh as sympathetic as the more conventional lead, the human anti-hero, Riley (Simon Baker).
The other stars perform capably, with John Leguizamo showing surprising range as "Cholo" a mercenary who we don't quite know whether to revile or pity and Dennis Hopper notably restrained as corporate king Kaufman, who has maximized the situation for its profit potential (as would any nimble capitalist).
There is talk in some critical circles that Romero is now merely reduced to aping the genre he invented after it's been taken to new heights critically in "28 Days Later" and commerically with last year's successful remake of "Dawn." But "28 Days Later" owes much of its artistic success to Romero's artistic and it can be fairly said that the entire third act of that film is a remake of "Day." The studio update of "Dawn" suffers when contrasted to Romero's latest, which reminds us of the popcorn soulessness of that film.
For horror fans, "Land" is a stunning achievement in makeup and special effects, rendering trite many of the CGI advances that are have been overexposed so much to us that our eyes are no longer fooled. "Land" has an old-school visual grittiness that nicely amplifies the overall sense of dread.
Romero is also helped by the commercial realities that are in play today, even at the independent level. "Dawn" was the first film to receive a NC-17 rating for non-sexual material in 1979 and "Day" followed suit six years later. This film is rated R and is better for it, as much lingering goriness is left to our ample imagination (which is primed for the task with a enough flahses of blood, limbs and guts to fill a swimming pool on "Cribs").
With "Land" complete, there doesn't seem to be any unchartered zombie ground. The wonderful "Shaun of the Dead" dealt humorously with the nightmare while showing more faith than Romero ever would in the resilience of humanity. The forgotten and hilarious "Return of the Living Dead" was dead on in dealing with panic-stricken stupidity that would surely be a large component of our collective response to a zombie apocolypse.
Some questions remain unanswered. Why do zombies have such bad teeth? "Land" could serve as a public service announcement for proper dental hygiene. But a lack of flossing and waterpicks aren't totally to blame, as zombies seem to get black mouth minutes after "turning." Do all dead turn into zombies or just those bitten? In one pivotal moment, "Land" hints that all dead do, which explains why the ranks keep growing even while so many of the living are fully consumed after being rippled limb from limb.
Entry #111980712467154831 posted by Catherine Salfino at 1:05 PM
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