I'll admit, it took me a little bit to get through this movie. Self admittedly, I'm not the best person when it comes to watching older movies, since I generally don't like the picture quality or acting style (I'm very shallow, I know) and a movie released in 1968 isn't typically on my top list of things to watch. Secondly, there were many instances where I just got frustrated with the characters in the movie- Barbara in particular. While I don't think her character was the worst thing in the world, especially because I feel she had a valid trauma response, overall she was just very unhelpful during the course of the entire movie.
Certain things also felt too convenient- the addition of five characters being hidden in the cell where they didn't show up until a while into the movie felt cheap, an easy way to add drama and tension when there was already a lot between Ben and Barbara to begin with. They had an interesting dynamic, and then there were a whole lot of other wrenches thrown into the mix- and that's where the real problems started. You have the obligatory "asshole" character that we also saw within Breeding Ground with the character of Harry. You have Judy, who at the last minute proclaims that she wants to go with Tom to help get the gas (even though she has no skills to add to the situation) that ultimately leads to Tom's death because she can't get out of the car. You have the mother figure with the sick daughter. You have Ben in there too, who is one of the highlights of the movie because of his common sense and survival instincts, though the movie did him dirty which I'll get to.
Overall, I did like how the movie rationalized the appearance of zombies and the sprinkling of information and answers throughout the narrative through use of experimentation and radio reports. It was the classic answer of radiation of course, but I did like the fact that it was a short lived phenomenon and how it was explained to be such, because they were able to eliminate the problem and the source.
However. The ending. The ending. I didn't expect everyone to survive- quite honestly, I was expecting most of them to die from the beginning. Maybe Ben and Barbara would survive, but the rest not so much, especially when it was revealed that the daughter wasn't feeling well (which obviously means she's going to turn into a zombie.) I held out hope to Ben, especially as the ending was getting near and it was clear that he knew what to do, and he knew what he had to do.
Then the final scenes came, with the people going around in the morning and shooting extra zombies that survived the previous night. And I knew. And I hoped that I was wrong. But then it happened- they shot Ben and killed him. Whaaaat. Listen, I get it- there's the whole tragedy of surviving this awful event and having enough wits to make it through, then dying because of the one thing that you thought could save you. But honestly, it was frankly ridiculous. I literally closed out the movie with "Really? Come on. No."
ReplyDeleteYou raise many excellent points, Sen. Those points ask serious questions about the authenticity and credibility of Romero's Night of the Living Dead. What if we were to take them further? You have noted the twists and turns of the plot that disappointed you and evoked dislike, perhaps even disgust, in you.
Join me on a special journey. We begin with the sharpened, critical eye of Social Justice and apply its infallible discernment to our examination of what George Romero has wrought in Night of the Living Dead.
What we discover may shock us.
Romero has been treated with kid gloves for casting an African-American in a lead role of power and command. While we can acknowledge the novelty of Romero’s move, even he has disdained the assignment of proper motives to it. He merely thought actor Duane Jones gave the best audition for the character of Ben. That isn’t enough, and we see why.
What happens to “Ben”? For many theater-goers, it was the first time seeing an African-American male portrayed as one in a position of tactical and strategic capability and authority. But what happens to him? He is shot to death at the end. After playing by the white man’s rules and, against his better instincts, taking the white man’s advice and hiding in the basement, he emerges, having done everything expected of him, only to get his brains blasted out by the forces of white hegemony! What’s the message? African-Americans cannot lead successfully. They just get everyone killed. “Stay at the back of the bus… or else!”
What about Barbra? She is one of the worst, most degrading stereotypes in history, the dumb blonde, her panderingly shapely legs all decked out in nylons and pumped up in high heels, but whose addled brain renders her useless. Women are to remain passive and to be cared for, and Barbra dutifully lies comatose on the couch most of the film. When she finally awakens, rises up, and dramatically takes the initiative in the defense of the home Ben has secured, Romero kills her by the hands of her own, undead brother, the male sealing the fate of the female. Barbra awakens brimming with the potential of her womanhood and a woman’s natural desire to nurture and protect; Romero punishes her with death and reminds women, “This is what happens when you try to excel. Stay in the kitchen.”
Are there any gay, lesbian, transgender characters in the film? Not a one. They don’t exist. And if they do, they should stay in the dark, self-hating closet in which they already reside. What about Hispanics? Surely, millions of Hispanics had already entered the United States by the 1960s and worked the fields of California, Florida, and other states. Nope. They worked in the fields… and lived in the shadows.
Who saves the day? A bunch of gun-toting white guys. No women among them, only among the undead who need to be bulleted in the head and incinerated.
Sitting high on his perch of white privilege behind the camera lens, Romero reminds us of the way things need to stay through his skillful puppeteering of the outcomes foreordained by his racism, misogyny, homophobia, and xenophobia. Night of the Living Dead is a horror film, just not the kind you think. Maybe that is why it really bothered you, Sen.