Dear Mr. Romero…
In recent years I’ve sat and watched as many of the names that shaped my theatrical childhood were brought back to life. Mostly all of them had changed for the worse. Michael Myers was the hulking son of a whore. Jason Voorhees, a subterranean architectural savant. Predators being beat up by Aliens. Aliens being beat up by small town folk. This isn’t the genre I once knew. However, these are all fictional characters being led in a dozen different directions by a hundred different people. You, sir, are one man, and as real as they come, so after watching your latest zombie romp titled SURVIVAL OF THE DEAD – I was hoping we could have a word or two.
The next sentence is one I thought I would never read, let alone write. George Romero should stop making zombie movies. And while I might be drunk, do not take these words as the rant of an obnoxious internet a-hole that thinks his voice matters more than it ever will. I speak out of respect to the man who perfected the zombie genre back when I was still a snotty little brat. You may not have created the concept of the dead rising but it was your vision mixed with a simple set of rules (aim for the head) that defined the undead for generations of fans and would-be film makers. This will forever be YOUR sub-genre…… as long as you know when to walk away.
After watching SURVIVAL OF THE DEAD, I strongly believe that time is now. The Romero zombie film has become no better than the dozens of direct-to-DVD walking dead titles we see every year. There’s a moment early in SURVIVAL that is pulled directly from one of the most gut-wrenching moments in DAWN OF THE DEAD and I immediately thought – Great, another hack director trying to be cute by ripping off Romero. That quickly turned into – Wait a second, this IS Romero! And that’s what it feels like, you’re ripping yourself off of your own legacy to for a chance to stay in the game.
Other than your name on the poster, there is no evidence this film should be listed along with your past achievements. The acting is abysmal. The special effects are embarrassing. And the character development is shoved down our throats so quickly there isn’t a chance in hell to relate to any of these people other than their clichè. For what it’s worth I thought the tough tomboy and the teenage geek should have had more lines.
Maybe it’s the booze talking, sir, but after your long winding road back to the top to reclaim your crown as the master of the zombie genre, I can’t help but notice that it doesn’t quite fit the way it used to.
That photo above is of you and I in happier times. It was one of the more memorable moments of my life and something I’ll share with my children while making them sit through one of my annual NIGHT, DAWN, DAY marathons one eerie Halloween night. When the final frame fades out and they peak from behind their covers to ask if there are any more movies, I’ll look them straight in the eyes and say “Not like that there isn’t, and there never will be.”