Vol. 1 – George Romero.
At
one point, several years ago, when The Dark Half was
becoming an older film and Bruiser was
still a developing thought in the mind of the director of Night
of the Living Dead, George A.
Romero was my all-time favourite film director. His scripts, to me,
were brilliant in their social and societal observations, and his
knack for lively and down-to-earth characters resonated through
nearly all of his films. Of course, the spectacular gore was a draw,
and after all, this was one of the so very few horror movie directors
that had actually managed to change the entire landscape of genre
cinema not once, but twice in
the first third of his phenomenal career that wove through maverick
independent filmmaking and high-budget studio productions. In a
strange way, those landmark films of Romero's – Night of
the Living Dead and Dawn
of the Dead served to set his
own bar so high, it would become, sadly, impossible to leap over for
a third time in his filmmaking career. That is not to say in any way
that his other films are not worthwhile – in fact, exactly the
contrary. Knightriders (1981)
was actually the film
that cemented him as my favourite director for many years (I'll nod
to Martin here, as
well), but what astounded me was that Romero's later films could not
achieve the cult status as those films of the first two-thirds of his
career. Post-Day of the Dead, with
his moderately-budgeted studio films Monkey Shines and
The Dark Half, Romero
seemed to be letting his trademark visceral panache drain from his
horror filmmaking ideals, which was physically changing the way he
was making his genre films. Romero himself had even said, “Monkey
Shines and The Dark
Half were basically just
exercises in style for me”, meaning he was fucking around with a
studio's budget to experiment with horror storytelling. Fair enough.
But when he seemed ready to implement these
studio stylings back into
his own original horror tales, there was no longer the large genre
audience he once had. Romero had changed just when the video market
had changed (Bruiser going
direct-to-video) and the tastes of the horror audiences had changed,
and not in Romero's direction. Which is such a shame – upon
reflection, it is actually two of his “Later Films” that boast
some of his best, most energetic scriptwriting – I'm talking about
the tragically ill-fated Bruiser and
Land of the Dead.
The overall premise of Bruiser is a cause for celebration in
and of itself – put-down corporate dreg (Jason Flemyng) wakes
up one morning without a face. His features have been seemingly
permanently obscured by a plain white Venetian mask mould, which
triggers off a series of revenge fantasies that Flemyng can finally
act upon now that he doesn't have to look himself in the mirror any
longer. He is the anonymous put-upon corporate dreg, now, visually
and physically emulating how most of us wind up feeling after years
through the corporate grinder. The script is insanely witty, but as
per usual with Romero, also completely lacking any subtlety or
subtext – everything is thrown right in our faces. A Romero fan
like myself loved it, with nearly every actor chewing the scenery.
But what is really different here, as with Land of the Dead, is
that Romero is no longer relying at all on his indie-filmmaking
maverick instincts, instead, he's relying heavily on his production
staff, from the cinematographer to his editor to his art directors to
his special effects team, something which he has become increasingly
disconnected with since 1985's Day of the Dead. Bruiser is the
new Romero, the Canadian Romero, the Grunwald-Productions Romero. But
if Bruiser was an underappreciated piece of script-writing,
Land of the Dead, Romero's next and final big studio movie,
was actually something of an unheralded masterpiece. Now, before I
get too far into the celebrating of Land of the Dead, I should
note that after years of discussing Romero's films with many friends
and colleagues, I have found that I am absolutely in the minority on
my opinion here. If not the solitary holder of said opinion. Still,
it's an opinion, and I do have it – Land of the Dead is one
of the best horror scripts ever written. It's particularly amazing to
me that it holds so many fresh zombie-movie ideas within after the
author has already brought three cinematic zombie blockbusters to the
big screen and had even re-written one of them for a 1990 remake.
You'd think anyone would have been tapped out – instead, Romero
brought out the big guns (literally, in the case of “Dead
Reckoning”, one of the films' showpieces of anti-zombie weaponry
and lead metaphor regarding the importance of war technology to the
rich and the right-wing white people) and delivered one of the
funniest, insightful, thoughtful, poignant, entertaining, and
engaging of all of his films. The dialogue cracks and the action
moves fast. Once again, apart form the scriptwriting, Romero is
distanced from the technical aspects of his own film, leaving it up
to the studio professionals to help him create a great zombie movie
on-screen. But this distancing from the other creative aspect of
making his film (the last time Romero cut one of his own movies was
Creepshow and the last time he'd been involved in any sort of
art direction or lighting was Dawn of the Dead. Land of the Dead
was filmed nearly entirely in a green-screen studio, leaving
computer graphics artists to render the settings, backdrops, and a
lot of the special effects). Still, Land of the Dead stands up
almost because it was also a studio production, adding
on-screen value to Romero's dark vision and providing strong actors
to handle and deliver his clever & ham-fisted dialogue. Land
of the Dead also marked the closing of a gargantuan horror series
that had been helmed by one of the genre's best and most
groundbreaking directors, infusing zombie-dreams and ideas that
Romero had been holding onto for a decade and a half; whereupon he
was finally able to purge these final images from his mind onto the
big screen for one last glorious time.
No comments:
Post a Comment