"These creatures are nothing more than pure motorized instinct.."
Nothing to me was quite as fun as the cast array of zombies as sight gags. Like the pot-bellied guy without a shirt rubbing up against a window or a nun. So many Pittsburgh extras at Romero's disposal. Caught in an ice rink net or clumsily scampering down the escalator, zombies could be seen as comical. And the film bends over backwards to say "they were once us and so where they once were is a draw that seems to pull them back although nothing human exists beyond this slight familiarity". Lost is what makes the location (in Dawn of the Dead (1978), the mall primarily) such a fun endeavor, a pleasure, something special. Instead, the walking dead lumber around in incoherence, operating for the next lunch, as told to us by Richard France (formerly of Romero's The Crazies) while interviewed by media, nothing human that made them family and friends remains. To eat, that is the drive, not human connection... although the mall is a connective tissue between the zombies and their pursuit of a human feast. The biker punks soon to crash the party of our heroes, intruding upon their staked claim, their "domicile", will assure us that the mall belongs to the zombies. The end would show us that. The mall never really ever totally belonged to Stephen, Francine, Roger, or Peter.
Nothing to me was quite as fun as the cast array of zombies as sight gags. Like the pot-bellied guy without a shirt rubbing up against a window or a nun. So many Pittsburgh extras at Romero's disposal. Caught in an ice rink net or clumsily scampering down the escalator, zombies could be seen as comical. And the film bends over backwards to say "they were once us and so where they once were is a draw that seems to pull them back although nothing human exists beyond this slight familiarity". Lost is what makes the location (in Dawn of the Dead (1978), the mall primarily) such a fun endeavor, a pleasure, something special. Instead, the walking dead lumber around in incoherence, operating for the next lunch, as told to us by Richard France (formerly of Romero's The Crazies) while interviewed by media, nothing human that made them family and friends remains. To eat, that is the drive, not human connection... although the mall is a connective tissue between the zombies and their pursuit of a human feast. The biker punks soon to crash the party of our heroes, intruding upon their staked claim, their "domicile", will assure us that the mall belongs to the zombies. The end would show us that. The mall never really ever totally belonged to Stephen, Francine, Roger, or Peter.
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