Review: Day of the Dead (1985)
Directed by: George A. Romero
Starring: Lori Cardille, Terry Alexander, Joe Pilato
Written by: George A. Romero
Music by: John Harrison
Country: United States
Available on: Blu-ray/DVD (Scream Factory)
IMDb
For a few years when I was a teen, veins flooded with hormonal angst, ears inundated with death and black metal, George A. Romero’s bleakest, goriest, and angriest zombie flick, Day of the Dead, was absolutely my jam. From approximately age 17 until 20, I watched this — rotated with Evil Dead 2, Army of Darkness, and Dead Alive — about once a week. I just couldn’t get enough of that sweet cocktail of grue and vitriol.
This is the third entry in Romero’s zombie saga, in which the undead have essentially made the earth their own. There are large pockets of human survivors, but they’re in hiding, shitting their pants. The particular pocket here includes a handful of scientists — with one really jazzed about the idea of taming the zombies — and a larger group of military grunts, all living in an underground bunker. The primary tension of course lies between the zombie whisperer (Richard Liberty) — who, when not teaching zombies, happily “vivisects” them in bizarre ways and is largely of unsound mind — and the newly-in-charge Captain Rhodes (Joe Pilato), also a bag of mixed nuts, fired up to obliterate some walking corpses. Caught in their sassy tangles are scientist Sarah (Lori Cardille), pilot John (Terry Alexander), and radio operator Bill (Jarlath Conroy), who mostly stay out of trouble while trying to find a less grumpy place to live.
Everyone in this movie is on edge and more or less unhinged, so there’s a metric ton of yelling and overacting. Over the years, the ultra-concentrated testosterone rage in Day of the Dead has started to leave me pretty cold. It’s a frankly irritating watch at times, and I find myself wishing everyone would blaze a doob and chill in Bill and John’s killer faux-beach bachelor pad. But I do get it: this is the zombie apocalypse at its worse, as everyone is beginning to realize they’re probably going to die posthaste, and do it surrounded by a bunch of people they hate. Those are not circumstances that imbue joy.
Day of the Dead laid the groundwork for the now-so-very-tired trope of holing everyone up in a military compound to illustrate that, actually, it’s human beings facing their imminent death that are more cruel and bloodthirsty than reanimated, carnivorous corpses. Watching this now, about 5 years past the absolute saturation point of zombies in popular culture, it can be difficult to separate its groundbreaking storytelling from the putrid chaff that aped it. But even with all that noise, Romero and his crew find a plethora of ways to stand above it all. Tom Savini’s special effects are absolutely, disgustingly gorgeous; the dissected human body had never and still hasn’t looked as gloppily realistic on screen as it does here. This is really pinnacle of the genre stuff. Building off their successful collaboration on Creepshow (1982), John Harrison provides another wonderful score for Romero, this time taking inspiration from Fabio Frizzi’s work on Zombie (1979) to create a psychedelic synth and Caribbean fusion that works incredibly well. Day is one of Romero’s best-looking films, as well, courtesy of stunning cinematography by Michael Gornick and production design by Cletus Anderson. It’s an underappreciated art to film dimly lit locations in a way that’s not only discernible but appealing.
It’s an impossible task to make a nihilistic, somber zombie movie that nails the vibe better than Romero’s Day of the Dead, but it’s just not the type of thing I like to watch often anymore. I revisit Dawn of the Dead a lot more frequently now, because it’s a more satisfying balance of horror and satire that still feels fresh. It’s not George A. Romero’s fault that everyone ripped off his 1985 zombie opus, but nonetheless the trails he blazed then are metropolitan highways now.
Overall rating: 8 out of 10
