George A. Romero | 101 mins | Blu-ray | 1.78:1 | USA / English | 18
Threequels, eh — who’d make ’em? It used to be received wisdom that sequels were poor, with only a few exceptions. That’s less often the case these days — indeed, it’s almost de rigueur that the first film in a potential franchise will exist to establish the world in preparation for a superior sequel. But how many great third films are there? There are some good ones, it’s true, but are there any that are the best film in their series? If there are, they’re certainly outweighed by the number that couldn’t live up to the quality of the two preceding parts.
Day of the Dead has its fans (including director George Romero, who has said this is his favourite of the ‘Dead’ films); but the impression I’ve always gotten is that, while not regarded as a bad film, it’s seen as the weakest of Romero’s original ‘Trilogy of the Dead’. Whereas Night was a taught, socially-conscious horror-thriller, and Dawn an epic, socially-conscious character drama, Day feels like it’s the kind of quotable gore-filled cult-friendly B-movie the series is often perceived as (and, in fairness, is taken as by some of its less brain-engaged fans). Of course, that’s not true: this is a George Romero movie — the subtext is definitely still there.
Here, Romero sets his sights firmly on the military mindset. Criticism of weapons fetishism isn’t something new to the series — indeed, there’s an element of it in both the preceding films — but here he specifically takes on the military, a recurrent theme in 1980s cinema: this is the era of films like Rambo: First Blood Part II, Rambo III, Predator, and other less well-remembered films in which a one-man-army (importantly, a one man American army) takes on some less-friendly locals on the other side of the globe and shows them who’s boss. As ever, Romero doesn’t tackle this head on. His methodology, it would seem, is to create a situation, put in elements (be they political, social, etc), and let it play out. The resultant work is driven by the story of the situation, the criticisms or analysis becoming subtle and secondary.
The same is true in Day’s criticism of science, especially vivisection. According to Romero (in the booklet that accompanies Arrow’s Blu-ray), he didn’t set out specifically to tackle that controversial area of scientific research. Instead, he developed a “next logical step” for what scientists would do to the undead. Of course, it’s horrific and criticism is implicit. Thankfully, Romero isn’t painting all science as bad: the lead character, our de facto hero, is also a scientist; but she’s not really interested in the vile work of her colleague, dubbed ‘Frankenstein’ by the soldiers.
It has been said that Day is the darkest and most nihilistic of all Romero’s films, lacking the humour that played such a significant role in Dawn. It’s not as if Night was rolling in laughs, but in the end the humans won (or seemed to), and there are no villains — characters conflict, but their motives are all understandable. Whoever you might side with, you can understand the other person’s perspective. The same is true of Dawn, even with those bikers. But Day has a clear-cut villain: the base’s new commander, Captain Rhodes, a power-mad borderline-caricature of small man syndrome. This is where that B-movie thing comes in: he’s eminently quotable, but he’s also thoroughly unlikeable. His men all fall into the same bracket, whatever effort the actors may have intended to humanise them.
The real development here, in terms of the zombie mythology, is that the creatures are beginning to learn and develop. Central to this is Bub, who doesn’t seem to crave flesh, imitates shaving, listens to music, and almost manages to talk. There’s a parallel with how monkeys have been kept captive for similar experimentation, and again of an unthinking military mindset: 
Bub salutes the Captain, an instinctive reaction the same as his shaving. That it leads to an ironic repetition at the film’s climax is perhaps satire, or perhaps just another cool moment. You have to hand it to Romero and co, though: it’s a great villain’s death scene.
Indeed, the special effects throughout are the finest the series has to offer. After the hit-and-miss work on Dead, the zombie make-up here is right on, especially Bub. The flesh-ripping finale is the most gruesome yet, but so over-the-top as to become comical — which, again, has been Romero’s intention all along. The location work looks great, too. Filming in a real underground storage facility lends a quality that you’d never get from studio sets, with huge empty rooms, the small band of soldiers and scientists huddled around the edges or needlessly sprawled across spaces.
For me, the main problem with Day is it feels like a bit of a rehash, thematically. Humans are the biggest enemy? That’s been touched on in both previous films. It’s at its most central here, with the base’s military contingent and scientific team clashing from the off, but it’s also at its most blatant. The characters are B-movie archetypes through-and-through, from the Villain to the Henchman, the Mad Scientist to the Wise Ethnic Guy, rather than the more rounded characters that even Night offered. Similarly, Romero punishes or rewards them in a straightforward fashion: everyone dies except for the likeable handful, who get to escape to tropical paradise — away from the epidemic forever!
There’s probably an in-depth piece to be written on the evolving gender politics of the ‘Dead’ films, which I’m sure must reflect changes in society. Here, we have an unequivocal female lead, a scientist and voice of reason amongst the madness of both sides. She stands up for herself against the men, who belittle her as much as possible. Actress Lori Cardille has commented that she wanted to develop the woman’s role in these films, even beyond that of Fran in Dawn, who she saw as little more involved than the useless females of Night. Of course, as I noted last time, the role of Fran is considerably more involved and competent than that of Barbra or Judy, so it’s interesting that Cardille felt there was work still to be done. Not that she’s necessarily wrong; and the way the men treat her character in Day suggests that someone having a similar reflection on this film, nearly 30 years on, would find room for continued improvement.
I find it hard to disagree with the consensus on Day’s status within Romero’s initial trilogy. It’s not that there aren’t good things in there, both thematically and on more basic entertainment levels, but it feels like less of a cohesive whole than either of the previous films. Although it develops the mythology (as well as the more intelligent zombies, this is the first time we have no sign of what’s going on in the outside world: power is out in most of the US so there’s no long-range radio or TV for further reports; these people are isolated — again, adding to that nihilistic world view mentioned earlier), there’s a slight sense of it going in circles, thematically. Maybe that’s a tad harsh, especially as I wouldn’t disagree with 
Romero’s critical stance evidenced here. I don’t even object to it being a bleak film, with little sense of hope for the future of humanity; in fact, there’s a lot to commend in that.
Put plainly, Day is certainly a good film, rewarding in several different ways. It just isn’t as good as the predecessors it inevitably butts up against.
Part of Week of the Living Dead for Halloween 2013.
Dawn of the Dead is the 
Romero has said he considers his zombie movies to be about the time they were made; a little snapshot of the world (or the US, at least) at the time. Thus consumerism is only one of Dawn’s targets, albeit the easiest to spot. Romero was ahead of his time here: gigantic out-of-town malls of this type were, apparently, new propositions at the time the film was made, and the one that stars here was amongst the country’s largest (it still exists, I believe, but now it’s considered a little’un). It’s not just the zombies who are critiqued either. Our protagonists choose to stay in the mall because it apparently has everything they could ever need, even though it also has the constant threat of the undead. On their first trip out for supplies, they’re as interested in expensive watches as food and tools. As time goes on it only gets worse: they turn their little attic apartment bit into a chic pad, with stylish chairs and all the mod-cons. In a world where the apocalypse has happened, they’re not fighting for their very survival, they’re living the high life. They even ‘rob’ the mall’s bank, “just in case” money is still worth something.
The men, meanwhile, help shape a commentary on society’s desensitisation to violence. There’s disgust early on at having to shoot these human-like creatures in the head to get rid of them, but so unrelenting is such a task that it becomes everyday. This and the consumerism thread come together in the final act, when a gang of bikers invade the mall: declaring that the place is their possession, one of our ‘heroes’ has become so used to killing the living dead that he now has no trouble opening fire on the plain ol’ living.
I also don’t hold much truck with that “the effects are bad” waffle. I mean, really, what do you expect? The film’s 35 years old! And y’know what, it’s not that bad. OK, the zombie’s skin tone is a little blatant — special effects maestro Tom Savini has said he was aiming for grey but it registered as rather blue on film. Then the blood is a vibrant red — well, loads of older films have that garish red blood, what of it? In fact, it was specifically requested by Romero, who wanted a comic-book-y colour to match what he saw as a comic-book tone to the violence. Then there’s all the flesh-eating gore, which is by turns heightened to the point of silliness and gorily realistic — the stuff with the guts towards the end… Savini was a war photographer in Vietnam and that in part inspired his effects work. You want to argue with a guy who’s seen the real thing that his work doesn’t look as ‘realistic’ as some post-millennial computer nerd’s hyper-CG version of things?
I have to say, the more I think and write about Dawn, the more I come to like it. It’s not really perfect — the biker climax comes almost out of nowhere, and I’m not convinced they were the most effective way to explore an ending. Perhaps this is where the “snapshot of the times” idea begins to fall down: distanced from the time in question, how resonant are those themes? Is that why modern viewers, coming to the film for the first time, miss them? (That’s not to discount the fact that most modern genre film viewers aren’t looking for grown-up viewing, but kids’ movie-style brightly-coloured action — with added gore and swearing to prove it’s actually for adults, despite the lack of adult thought or consideration required. Ironically, these once-B-movie cheap horror/thrillers are now, thanks to their political undertones, more suited to the art house crowd. I see why so many venerate ’70s cinema.) But (to get back to this paragraph’s point) there’s so much in Dawn, so much more than either a zombie kill-fest or a criticism of consumerism, that thoughtful reflection — and, I’m sure, future re-watches — are only to its benefit.
Immediately after viewing, I’d say I didn’t like Dawn as much as Night. Though it has many qualities I admire, it also felt a little less focused and more sprawling. The first I found tense and chilling — a Horror movie, albeit one with observable dramatic and thriller-ish elements. Dawn is, at heart, a Drama — it’s about the people in this situation, that situation happening to be an extreme horror one. But on reflection, the bits I was less sure of pale behind the things it does right.
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while the men are capable and get on with things. Poppycock. Barbra is clearly in shock and, even more so, traumatised. It’s a great performance by Judith O’Dea in that regard, thoroughly believable as to how someone with such damage to their mental health might behave. Far from being the weakest or most irritating character, I think she’s the most fascinating, especially when you add in her final reaction.
and suddenly you’ve got dozens of men with guns setting up posses, and then military officials apparently in Washington D.C., being hounded by the press; and then our heroes attempt to escape and there’s bombs and shooting and fire and explosions! You become unsure of where it might go next, and that’s never a bad thing.
That may not be to the taste of the gore-hounds that the horror genre can attract (particularly zombie movies, with all their flesh-ripping), but it does make it of more merit to a wider film-fan audience.
After nearly five decades, numerous sequels, innumerable remakes, rip-offs, and films just plain influenced by it, you’d expect a low-budget shocker to have gone stale. The most remarkable thing about Night of the Living Dead, then, is just how well it holds up. It still feels fresh, with a story and style that seem as if it could have been made yesterday, only the fashions and film stock letting us in on its ’60s origins.
Found footage movies, eh? You either love them or hate them. Well, plenty of people hate them. I don’t mind them — it’s fast becoming an unoriginal idea (“existing genre + found footage = exciting new idea” is a sum that stopped working a couple of years ago), but if it’s done well, of course it still works.
Essentially, then, it’s a cut-price 
Co-written by geek god Joss Whedon and former 
Just when you think the Underworld series is dead, it suddenly lurches back to life with a new instalment. Fitting for a series all about vampires & that, I suppose.
By taking such a bold move with the plot, meanwhile, the story pushes the series’ mythology in new and relatively interesting ways. It’s becoming a bit dense and fan-only (unless you let it wash over you and just enjoy the punching), but at least they’re not regurgitating the same old stuff. It manages a few twists along the way too, which is always nice. The plot seems to have been half worked around Speedman’s non-involvement, leading me to wonder why — he’s not too busy, surely? Perhaps he’d just had enough? But no, apparently it was genuinely just written this way. I guess he couldn’t be bothered to turn up for some cameo shots, because the stand-in is really obvious.
means the next one will probably turn up out of the blue with little hype, much as Awakening did last year. Plus, though this is the most expensive film to date (double the budget of the preceding one!), it’s also the most financially successful: $160.1 million worldwide, beating number two’s $111.3 million. Assuming Beckinsale still feels up for it, I imagine 2015 will bring us a continuation — and, hopefully, a conclusion.
Also worthy of commendation: new-style ‘evolved’ Lycans; a small role for Charles Dance (always worth seeing); the evocative near-future setting; good quality action sequences; some nice steel-blue cinematography/grading. Some of it was shot at 120fps on brand-new pre-alpha never-used RED cameras — take that Peter Jackson, eh. Plus it’s only a little over 1 hour and 18 minutes long without credits. Some would bemoan such brevity, but it has its positives.
Final Destination 5 is the latest Final Destination film. Do you really need a plot description? They all have the same story.
although on reflection it’s meaningless; a clever nod that isn’t really clever, but is neat. And perhaps means the series is finally going to rest.
Kurt Russell gets embroiled in a fever dream of mystical Chinese tomfoolery in San Francisco’s Chinatown in this cult ’80s adventure from writer/director John Carpenter.
John Cusack stars as literary giant (figuratively) Edgar Allan Poe in this wannabe-Victorian-
That they didn’t tone it all down just a smidge to match, and so go for the box office-friendly PG-13, is a surprise in these days.
The rest of the cast are from Hollywood’s usual go-to for period tales: Brits; if not entirely then mostly so. (The film was shot in Hungary and Serbia, so I suppose our thesps have the additional advantage of being geographically favourable to Americans.) You know you’re getting a level of quality there, then, though for me Kevin R. McNally lets the side down (again). He’s only a supporting character and is fine most of the time, but there’s one bit when he’s talking to the lead detective and just rattles off his line… It’s not the world’s greatest speech, but you can hear there was meant to be more nuance and quiet in there.
Se7en is probably my favourite film ever made, but criticisms that it’s quite a standard detective mystery are not invalid. It’s enlivened by Andrew Kevin Walker’s writing (great dialogue, engrossing structure, etc), some top-drawer performances (Freeman, Pitt, a loopy-calm Spacey), and, probably most of all, David Fincher’s inestimable touch. In making such a comparison it’s easy to see that The Raven lacks any of these, which renders it a solid period mystery, but no more.
100Films.co.uk 