9 Seasons of Hell on Earth:
Some thoughts about The Walking Dead and George Romero's series of six "Living Dead" films.
“Yeah,
they’re dead. They’re all messed up.”
— George A.
Romero, Night of the Living Dead (original
1968)
I
chose to finally write about The Walking
Dead after nine seasons because of the departure of a major character,
which changed the whole dynamic of the series, turning it into a different
direction. For fans of the show, much of what is in this article is me stating
the obvious. I know many people who have stopped watching the show after
various seasons, for one reason or another. I also know people who have never
watched TWD and never will, and some who have just started watching. There may
be some hints and clues about certain things, but there are no real spoilers here.
This article is about how the show affects me, personally.
Someone
on Facebook commented that they stopped watching simply because the show is so
sad, even depressing. True. This is not a comedy. There’s a lot of sorrow and
sadness in almost every episode, a veritable trail of tears. Sometimes the
grief on an actor’s face is enough to get to me. There are powerful emotions
here: both love and hate, as well as fear and horror in the eyes of the
characters; there’s also plenty of heart and soul poured into these scenes,
which the cast so effectively conveys. As a relative told me when we were
discussing the series over the Labor Day weekend, “My heart has been ripped out
over and over again by what happens to these characters. I feel their pain, I feel their
grief and I mourn with them.” I agree with her. I’ve gotten caught up in the
lives and deaths of these characters. So please, bear with me.
Although
I’ve read only a handful of Robert Kirkman’s graphic novels, I’ve been a fan of
the television series since episode one, and still remain a fan. I’m not a mad
puppy because the show’s producers and writers made some changes which aren’t
part of Kirkman’s mythos. Certain characters that had been killed in the
graphic novels became so popular on the TV show that the producers decided to
keep them around. Other popular characters were killed off on the show and, as
most writers know, characters and plot twists often demand to be heard and
made.
All
in all, I think Frank Darabont, Gale Anne Hurd, Greg Nicotero, Howard Berger,
and a truly outstanding ensemble cast all brings Kirkman’s vision to life. Yes,
I get frustrated with the show over some plot twists, when the good guys fail
to kill the bad guys when they had the chance, or when a likeable character is killed
off. Yet such decisions often lead to more plot twists and turns. All that
being said, the reality of TWD’s world reflects the true nature of Life: Death
happens, tragically, senselessly, unexpectedly. Good people die. Bad people go
on living. Even good decisions can lead to tragic and fatal results. Every
decision, whether wise or foolish, has some sort of consequence. Sometimes the
results are small blessings. Sometimes things go horribly wrong. Murphy’s Law
rules in this world. Either you’re alive and fighting desperately to stay that
way, or you’re dead — permanently or not. Everything means something.
Everything ties into something else. The road to Hell is paved with good
intentions and mortared with bad ones, and this is the world of The Walking Dead. This is Hell.
“When
there’s no more room in Hell, the Dead shall walk the Earth.”
— George A.
Romero, Dawn of the Dead
(original1978)
The Walking Dead is a direct and
legitimate descendant of George Romero’s Living
Dead films, and it often pays homage to him. For me, TWD is the penultimate
“zombie apocalypse” epic, and like Romero’s films, the series is not about the zombies. Yes, the show is
bloody and graphically violent, as it should be. But I see nothing gratuitous
here; that’s the nature of this vicious world, and only part of the horror that
has befallen it. The show is all about the people who fighting for their lives,
fighting to survive in a dark and hopeless world. You can replace the walking
dead with more realistic threats like nuclear holocaust, a pandemic, world-wide
drought and famine — whatever. It would still be much the same: a nightmare.
In
a way, the series reminds me of the post-apocalyptic novels of J.G. Ballard: The Crystal Word, The Drought, The Wind from
Nowhere, and The Drowning World.
Ballard used ecological global disasters to examine the human condition, to
tell stories about the survivors and how these catastrophes affect them, how
they change them. This is what The
Walking Dead is doing in the context of a zombie apocalypse, and why it
still works for me. Although the show is played out in a scenario filled with
terror and horror, it is not just
another tale of zombies eating the flesh of the living: this is pure human
drama, filled with tension and suspense, and yet not without subtle touches of
humor that come from the dialog between characters who are not there just for
comedic relief, nor does the humor play out through moments of slapstick
involving comical zombies. The resurrected Dead in TWD, while slow-moving, are
savage, dangerous and deadly, and there are a
lot of them — hordes and herds of them all over the place. But the Dead are
innocents, like any jungle or forest animal. No longer human, they do what they
do, driven by mindless instinct: they eat anything
that lives, although their main prey is people: we’re no longer at the top of
the food chain. Ah, but people can be much worse: they terrorize other people
and commit atrocities that far surpass what any zombie can do. Everything in
life is about people, and everything about this show revolves around people,
many of whom are just as dangerous as the living Dead. Sure, the Dead pose a threat
because they outnumber us, they can multiply faster than we can, they’re
relentless and they never get tired. As for the Living . . . they can think and
plan, organize and shoot us from a distance. The Dead aren’t the monsters here:
no . . . human beings are the monsters.
In
essence, The Walking Dead is about
human endurance and human frailty. The show is a celebration of the human
spirit, and runs the entire spectrum of the human condition: finding and losing
love; family, friendship and loyalty; trust and betrayal; heroism and
cowardice; salvation, redemption, forgiveness; justice versus revenge;
subjugation and slavery; kindness, depravity and barbarism. It’s about the
capricious malevolence of greedy and power-hungry men and women: the strong
prey on the weak. Through the characters that inhabit this world, the good, the
bad and the ugly sides of human nature are revealed. We’re shown how an
apocalypse of any kind will affect and change us. These characters have all
lost someone they love and hold near and dear in their hearts. Many have lost
everything they knew and had in life. The people in this world of the Dead are
orphans of an apocalyptic storm, yet they hang on to what little hope they
have. The Walking Dead is an End of
the World scenario: dark and grim, brutal and cruel. To put a religious spin on
it all, as George Romero often did . . . this could very well be the End Times,
the Tribulation. This is Armageddon. But there’s no Rapture here, only the
resurrection of the dead, and in the context of this show it’s the greatest
cosmic joke of all.
The
television series, like the graphic novels, is also about people who would
never have met, if not for this apocalyptic nightmare. These people are
fighting to survive, to protect each other from the Dead as well as from other
people. Against all odds they’re establishing communities and trying to rebuild
civilization. They’re trying to save what’s left of the world. What this series
does so well is to bring people together. Love blossoms, although lovers
change, grow and move on — or are literally torn apart. There are gay, lesbian
and interracial romances, and race, creed, color, religion and sexual
orientation no longer matter to most of these characters. They’re just trying
to rebuild their lives and find some happiness in a dying world inhabited by
the Walking Dead. The world also has its share of human predators in the form
of various gangs of killers, thieves and marauders: the butchers of Terminus,
the Grady Memorial Hospital enclave and the murderous scavengers called the
Wolves, for example.
Unlike
the Resident Evil series, for
instance, (which also owes much to George Romero), The Walking Dead is not wall-to-wall action, although it can hold
its own when those moments burst upon the scene. Action scenes are expertly
choreographed, filmed and edited. The special effects by KNB EFX are excellent.
Make-up, practical effects, animatronic zombies, CGI, real locations,
cinematography, set design and set decoration . . . these are all done with
loving care and are as good as and often better than anything done in
theatrical films. Everything about TWD is epic in scope, vision, characters and
plot. However, all this would be mere window dressing if not for solid,
three-dimensional characters, their motives and alliances, conflicts,
suspicions and betrayals. The characters, their relationships, what they do,
how they react, what they choose — these drive the plot and make the show
interesting to me. Yeah, producers are making a big-budget zombie epic, and
they pull none of their gory punches. They do it all. What they don’t do is neglect the human element,
they don’t forget character development, which is always front and center, and
a well-cast ensemble of fine actors bring to vivid life the characters they
portray.
“They’re
us. We’re them and they’re us.”
— George Romero,
Night of the Living Dead (1990
remake.)
What
I like are the quiet moments between the characters, revealing moments of
reflection and discussion, when we learn more about them and come to understand
them. Almost every major character has a back story, often told through
flashback or dialog. Good guys or bad guys, we come to see this grave new world
through their eyes. Each character is unique, although there are characters
that serve as nothing more than “red shirts” — zombie fodder. The cast is
superb, creating deep and complex characters: there are few clichés or
stereotypes here. Characters have story arcs, and those with the most
interesting and surprising arcs are my favorites. For instance: Morgan (Lennie
James) — deeply troubled and conflicted, but heroic and honorable; he is the
first character to save the life of Rick Grimes (Andrew Lincoln), the star of
the series. Glenn (Steven Yuen) — likeable, young, brave, and who grows into a
true leader: he is truly the one who sets the ball into play when he saves Rick
from a herd of Walking Dead. That simple act of kindness takes them on a
journey of friendship and a quest to build a safe haven for their group of
survivors. I have many favorites: Herschel (the late Scott Wilson), Carol
(Melissa McBride), Darryl (Norman Reedus), Michone (Danai Gurira), Eugene
(Josh McDermitt), Tyrese (Chad Coleman), Sasha (Sonequa Martin-Green), Abraham
(Michael Cudlitz), Rosita (Christian Serratos), Tara (Alanna Masterson),
Maggie (Lauren Cohan), and Father Gabriel (Seth Gilliam.) It’s a huge cast,
and the actors always get some memorable screen time in which their talent and
acting skills allow them to shine. The cast is run through the mill and put
through the whole gamut of human emotions and conflicts. Now I must mention the
three villains who often steal the show, each one interesting, complicated,
unique, and each quite different from the others.
First
we have the Governor of Woodbury, played with charming, disarming, creepy and
ultimately deadly perfection by David Morrissey. A charismatic leader with a
nasty agenda and a violent way of dealing with his enemies and traitors, for
him there was no redemption. Then there’s Negan, leader of the self-styled
Saviors of Sanctuary, expertly portrayed by Jeffrey Dean Morgan. He’s a
likeable bad ass, but truly cruel; he commits acts of murder and mayhem that
would make Satan cry out in horror. He’s my favorite, and his arc has taken an
unexpected turn. Negan has to pay for his crimes, but I hope he dies saving the
lives of others, thus winning some redemption for himself. MINOR SPOILER ALERT:
he’s already risked his life to save someone, and that act of unselfish heroism
could be a new beginning for him. (As I stated above, I’ve read only a handful
of the graphic novels, so I have no idea what becomes of Negan and, of course,
what the show’s producers and writers might do with him.) Now we have an eerie,
sinister and disturbing villainess: Alpha — played to wicked perfection by
Samantha Morton. She’s leader of the Whisperers, a community of people who
prefer to live in the wild and have come up with a clever but grisly way to
survive and walk among the Dead. They are, in my opinion, the most dangerous
threat to the communities of Alexandria, the Kingdom, Hilltop and Oceanside
because not only are there a lot of them, and they just come out of nowhere,
they’re using the Dead, whom they call their Guardians, as their own private
army.
What
I also like about the show is that there are few pop-culture references. No one
yells out, “Shoot ‘em in the head, like in the movies!” There’s no mention of
other cinematic genres, either. In episode one policeman Rick Grimes tells his
partner Shane that his brother was once stuck in a blizzard with only cake or
snacks, and the audio tapes of Lord of
the Rings, and later someone calls him Clint Eastwood. Another character
mentions the arrival of Maggie during a crucial scene, “like Zorro on a horse,”
and one little girl is told to read Tom
Sawyer. That’s pretty much it. These are timeless references, not
references to current artists, films, musicians, actors, politicians and
celebrities. The excellent soundtrack by Bear McCreary, while using an original
score, also includes a few known and popular songs, which works for me because
it adds an element of realism to the series.
I
finished writing this article on September 8, 2019, and The Walking Dead won’t be entering its tenth season until October.
I have avoided all fan pages, websites and even the official Facebook page
because I don’t want to know what may or may not happen next. I have, however,
heard that Robert Kirkman’s final novel in the series is on its way. I have not
seen even one episode of Fear the Walking
Dead, and I don’t know if I ever will. I’ve also heard that another
spin-off is in the works, as well as a theatrical film starring one of the
actors who left TWD, but not because he or she was killed off. Perhaps this is
now getting out of hand and too much is a little too much. But I suppose as
long as people keep watching and the cash cow can still be milked, the Dead
will continue to walk. I’d like to see TWD end before it grows stale for me, as
it already has for so many others. I can see the show taking two or three more
seasons at most to reach a satisfactory conclusion, although it may take
longer, depending on how closely the producers stick to Kirkman’s novels, how
he ends his series, and how well the ratings hold up. As much as I love the
characters, the plot twists and turns, I hope The Walking Dead doesn’t end up with worn out feet and finish with an
“and they all lived happily ever after” finale.
Oh, How Those Zombies Have Evolved, Devolved and
Decayed!
I have yet to hear the word zombie used in The Walking Dead. According to what I heard, the “Bible” the writers use states that the word not be used. I can’t remember if Kirkman ever used zombie in his graphic novels, but it seems to me that the series’ producers and writers don’t want to use a term that has been incorrectly used and overused in films and TV. It’s almost as if zombie is a word unknown to the characters of TWD’s world, and they have no zombie myths and legends, no zombie films. Thus, the Dead are commonly referred to as Walkers, although different communities have their own words for them: Biters and Skineaters, for example. I applaud that decision by all involved. Now, let me conclude by giving my thoughts on how a new definition of zombie crept into the lexicon and vocabulary of pop culture.
To
my knowledge, George A Romero invented the flesh-eating zombie genre. Before
him there were films like White Zombie, I
Walked with a Zombie, and The Zombies
of Mora Tau — films I saw as a kid in the 1950s and 1960s, and all of them
deal with more traditional, Haitian-voodoo zombies. After the original Night of the Living Dead, filmmakers
such as Dario Argento (producer and Romero's collaborator), and Lucio Fulci jumped into the zombie arena. Then came a
host of spin-offs, take-offs, remakes, reboots and rip-offs.
I
always thought George Romero never used the word zombie in his Living Dead films. But after binge-watching all six
of his living dead films, I learned a few things. In Night of the Living Dead, the Dead are referred to as cannibals and
ghouls. In Dawn of the Dead, the
character of Peter (Ken Foree) calls them zombies; the end credits list four
actors under the heading, LEAD ZOMBIES. The characters in Day of the Dead call the Dead everything but zombies. By the time
Romero got around to filming Land of the
Dead, the zombie genre had exploded like a Walker’s head after being hit by
a shotgun blast. In this film the Dead are called Stenches, although one
character refers to them as Walkers. Dennis Hopper calls them zombies in one
scene. In Diary of the Dead, which I
consider Romero’s best, and was basically a reboot of the series, no one knows
what’s going on, and the Living Dead are referred to as “the Dead.” In his
final film, Survival of the Dead, the
word zombie is used a couple of times. Tom Savini’s fairly decent 1990 remake
of Night of the Living Dead, with a
new screenplay by George Romero, went back to the basics and did not use zombie
as a term for the Living Dead.
It’s
interesting to note the changes in the appearance and behavior of the Living
Dead throughout the six films, how they started to evolve while physically
turning more and more “rotten.” In Night
of the Living Dead, the Dead look fresh, almost alive. The first one we see
in the cemetery remembered how to open a car door when he attacked Barbra, and
even picked up a rick to smash the car’s window. The living-dead girl in the
farmhouse basement used a garden tool to kill her mother. While the Dead in Dawn of the Dead showed more signs of
rot and decay, there was one that picked up a tire iron to use as a weapon;
another remembered how to play hockey. There was a lot of humor and comical
zombies in this film, and they displayed some sort of memory of visiting a
shopping mall. By Day of the Dead,
when the tone of the series grew darker and more hopeless, the Dead have
decayed even more, and they became “dumb fucks,” as one character called them.
But then there was Bub (wonderfully played by Sherman Howard), who had become
Doctor Matthew “Frankenstein” Logan’s (Richard Liberty) pet project. Bub had
pretty much been tamed and domesticated, and displayed not only memory but some
feelings of kindness and even friendship for the doctor. Bub also listened to
cassette tapes, tried to shave, remembered what a telephone is, saluted Captain
Rhodes (Joe Pilato) and later aimed an empty .45 at him. In the film’s climax,
Bub found a loaded gun and shot the Captain.
The
fourth film, Land of the Dead, showed
the Stenches to be still rotting away as they begin to evolve: the Dead musicians
trying to play their instruments, for instance, and of course Big Daddy
(interestingly played by Eugene Clarke), the gas station zombie who appears to
be almost human, is filled with anger and rage — and remembers the job he had
in life; he also learns how to use a machine gun and a jackhammer, and
eventually organizes, teaches and becomes the leader of the Stenches. However,
as I mentioned above, Diary of the Dead
was basically a series reboot, and the living dead had reverted back to being
mindless animals. But then, in the final film, Survival of the Dead, our world has pretty much ended and the Dead
now rule. This is a film based on the Gregory Peck western, The Big Country, which Romero admitted
was an influence. Only here, the rivalry and feud is between one Irish clan
leader who believes the Dead can be taught to eat something other than people,
and another clan leader who thinks they should all be put down like rabid dogs.
It’s interesting to note that for the first time Romero used the same actor in
both films: Alan van Sprang as Sergeant “Nicotine” Crockett, who had one
scene in Diary, went on to star in Survival. Here again, we see the zombies
evolving, especially in the character of the horse-riding Janet O’Flynn, twin
sister to Jane; both roles played by Kathleen Munroe. In the end, the Dead do
learn to eat something other than people.
The Walking Dead has pretty much
returned to basics with their mindless and much more decayed Walkers, although
they’re no less dangerous and savage. I’ve yet to see any signs that they’re
evolving, becoming something else, as in the Resident Evil series. Again, I don’t know if “zombie evolution” is
part of the graphic novels, and I have no idea if it will play a role in the
television version. However, where Romero’s Living Dead were more often than
not afraid of fire, the TV show’s Walkers are drawn to it like moths to a
flame. In Land of the Dead, the
Stenches are fascinated by “sky flowers” — fireworks used to distract them,
until they lose interest and just keep shambling along. While I don’t find any
“scares” in the Walking or Living Dead resurrected corpses, when I stop to
think about it, they’re frightening because being dead, they have no fear;
they’re relentless and cannot be stopped until their brains are turned to mush,
sliced in half or filled with bullet holes.
Lastly,
I’d like to briefly touch on the 2004 remake of Dawn of the Dead. While I like this film, like the changes it made
in an attempt to do something different, and think it’s a well-made film, I
find it empty of theme, devoid of meaning. Sure, survival is the heart of it
all, but this is basically an action film. I saw no social commentary, no
message or statement being made.
Now,
in 1968 there were few black actors starring in major motion pictures, and I
can’t think of one horror film that featured a black hero. So Romero broke new
ground when he cast Duane Jones to star as Ben, the hero. I don’t know if this
was his vision all along or if he revised his script at some point because of the
assassination of Martin Luther King. King was murdered on April 4, 1968, and Night of the Living Dead premiered on
October 1, 1968. Thus, to me, an underlying theme or social commentary of the
first film is racism. (Romero flipped things around in his script for the 1990
remake. In this one Ben (Tony Todd), still a hero, comes to a much different
but just as tragic of an end, while the character arc for Barbra (Patricia
Tallman) takes her from a frightened and screaming girl to a warrior woman who
takes no shit. This film, for me, is a commentary on feminism, equal rights for
women, and puts their strength and resilience in the forefront.)
As
so many fans and film critics have remarked, the original Dawn of the Dead was all about the influence of consumerism in our
lives. I see Day of the Dead as a
return to the old “military versus the scientists” theme so often portrayed in
1950s’ science fiction films; it may even be a commentary on the
military-industrial complex. Land of the
Dead, in my opinion, is a commentary on capitalism and a two-class system:
the rich and powerful live in the Fiddler’s Green Tower, while the poor and the
destitute basically live on the streets. Mainstream media, the internet,
bloggers, fake and altered news is at the heart of Diary of the Dead. Over the course of these six films the actual
cause of the Dead being resurrected is never explained, and sometimes not even
discussed. In Night of the Living Dead,
there was mention of possible “radiation from the Venus probe” being the cause.
In the next two films characters discussed a religious explanation — like a
plague sent by God to punish Mankind. In The
Walking Dead, we know it’s some sort of virus that we’re all infected with,
and even if we die in our sleep, we’ll rise again. But what’s the cause of this
virus? Is it natural, extraterrestrial in origin or man-made — some scientific
or medical experiment gone horribly wrong? Is there or will there be a cure?
Perhaps we’ll find out, perhaps we’ll never know.
No comments:
Post a Comment