Night of the
Living Dead (1968), George
Romero's original zombie film, takes
place, much as the title implies, in the space of a single night
at a house, from dusk
to dawn. Its successor,
Dawn of the Dead (1978),
works with
the common sequel template of taking elements
of the
original and making everything
bigger. Here, the budget is
bigger, the setting is grander
(mall
vs house), the gore is more
plentiful and visceral (and in color!), and
the film is nearly an hour longer. These
are all very fitting for the
capitalist allegories found
in the film. In
addition, Dawn makes
no promises for the time period of
which the action of the film
takes place; there
is a point in the film where we lose track of just how many days the
characters have been in the mall. By
forgoing the classical Greek unity
of time that
the original film preserved, Dawn is
capable of furthering
its discussion
on
the human condition that is
present throughout the film.
When
our characters first arrive at the mall, they
do so because they are searching for a place to obtain supplies. Once
they have done this, they formulate plans to vacate the mall of its
zombie inhabitants. It is
these goals that grant our characters temporary purpose and meaning
i.e. survival in a zombie
apocalypse. Once they have
accomplished these tasks and
begin to become
accustomed to their new commodity-filled
habitat; however, the
cracks of their complacency begin to shine. In
the mall, they are free to live as kings and queens, doing
anything they want and having everything they desire (provided
that it's
in stock). It is then that
they attempt to replicate
pre-apocalyptic life, having
romantic dinners for two, ice skating, and getting
haircuts.
In a way, their imitation of
the past is in a similar fashion
of
the mindless zombies. As
Steven Shaviro says in his essay, “Contagious Allegories: George
Romero”, both the living
and the dead come to resemble the “...humanoid figures: department
store mannequins.” (CP
141). Unlike Night
of the Living Dead where the
characters are only together for several hours, Dawn is
able to show this period of
relative safety as lasting for an indeterminate amount of time and
therefore is more capable of
being able to delve into the effects that this purposeless feeling of
ennui has on the survivors.
Without any direction or
conflict, the characters
indulge in an almost nihilistic state of being that
places them nearly below the undead's own single minded cannibalistic
purpose. In one scene, we see
two of the main characters,
Stephan and Francine,
together in bed presumably
after having sex. In this
shot, it is more noticeable than anywhere else in the film of the
mannequin-like form that the
characters have taken on. Here,
the two do literally nothing,
no talking, just
staring at us,
immobile, as if they were
made of inhuman material. I
feel as though there is a
kind of void present in their eyes which
almost gives the impression
that they are wasting away, even though they are still living.
Something
that I think would be entertaining and possibly enlightening for the
class in the future is to watch a failure of a horror movie. By
that, I mean something that never had any sort of critical acclaim.
Think of something like a
b-movie or an
Ed Wood film.
I know it sounds kind of
silly, and it is, but I think that a movie in
this category could lead to
some interesting discussions on what makes a horror film “good”
per say. It'd be a fun aside
from analyzing a film like we
have for most of this course, although you still could do that,
obviously. I feel that
talking more about the film making process and how it can be
disastrous in the case of a film like these would be neat and
definitely still has a lot of relevance to this course and the way
that films function. I also
kind of have
a soft spot for “bad” movies so there's that.
Great suggestion about putting a "bad" horror movie--or at least clips of one for sake of comparison--on a syllabus. I'll definitely keep that in mind, if I have the chance to do a course like this again. Thanks, Kevin.
ReplyDelete