Remembering George A. Romero by William Butler

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My best friend, Emmy award-winning make-up artist John Vulich (“Buffy,” “X-Files”) and I grew up together in the small town of Fresno, California. From the moment we met, we were instant pals as we were two odd-ball freaks who didn’t fit in anywhere and who lived only for watching horror films. John was a huge part of my childhood and is still a part of me, despite his sad untimely passing. One of the main things the two of us had in common and a tremendous source of our bonding, was our mutual love of George Romero.

John and I spent many Fridays watching midnight screenings of Dawn of the Dead at the United Artists 8 theater on Blackstone – a movie considered so grotesque by the theater owner, that he was only willing to show it late at night. John and I were obsessed with Romero’s work – Martin and The Crazies had been two of our favorite films and we lived to watch read or experience anything that George was involved in. Some of the best times of my life were spent in front of the VHS player with a stack of George’s movies watching them with Vulich. By the time we turned 19, we had both decided to try to get into the movie business, despite not knowing anyone or how in the world we would ever do it.

Yet somehow it all happened – somehow we both ultimately ended up working in film and even more unlikely working for George Romero himself.

Not long after we graduated, John was the first of us to make the jump to try working in the business – his obvious artistic genius – his work at twelve years old was on the same level as when he was winning Emmy’s later in life – helped him connect and ultimately work with FX patriarch Tom Savini on one of the Friday the 13th films – and from that association – he ended up working with George on Day of the Dead where he designed and applied the “Bub” zombie make-up that ultimately became an iconic illustration of the evolution of George’s work. John had nothing but good things and amazing stories to tell about Romero while working on the film, calling me weekly to share that George was indeed, the true artist and visionary that we grew up thinking he was.

It was after those amazing conversations, that I decided to head to Hollywood and give it a shot myself. After an insane amount of hard work and inspiration, I somehow ended up in the movie business myself… and to think it all started with my love of George.

After a few years of working as an actor, it was John Vulich who actually recommended me to Tom Savini and George to possibly portray the role of “Tom” in the remake of Night of the Living Dead. I was staying with Viggo Mortensen on location while he was shooting Young Guns 2 when I got the call from John that George and Tom wanted to see audition tape of me – it was Viggo himself who directed and filmed my audition for Night – maybe his own genius rubbed off on me because I somehow did something that they liked.

I was completely blown away and honored to hear the news that I was somehow cast in the movie. To actually be working with both Tom and George, guys John and I idolized for so many years, was such a privilege and a complete dream come true. How it all came together and I got the part, I will never fully understand – but am honored it did. I am first and foremost a fan boy who got the ultimate golden ticket and got to work with his idol.

I remember I was very nervous on my first day shooting Night of the Living Dead. My first scene was my most difficult; the one where I do the monologue about all hell breaking loose on the farm. I was worried about playing “Tom,” despite doing a good audition, I could not be personally more opposite of the character in real life – I’d never even held a gun let alone shoot one. I was so scared that when George found out that I wasn’t really a backwards, gun-shooting Pittsburgh commoner that he would fire me on the spot – but happily and unbelievably, that wasn’t my experience at all. I worked hard – learned to fire a shotgun and sucked it up.

As they rolled the camera, both George and his then wife, Chris were seated – not even four feet away from me, watching the monitor. I felt such massive pressure and responsibility to do good, that I very nearly broke into a sweat while performing. I Billy Butler, a goofy loser who spent most of his childhood alone reading Famous Monsters magazine, was actually acting just feet away from the very guy who made me want to be in the business to begin with.

After a few nerve-wracking takes, I casually stole a glance over at George – only to find a huge smile on his face – he was laughing at how shaken up I would become when Savini would call cut and I was stunned when he gave me a thumbs up.

George got up, crossed over to me and whispered “You’re absolutely perfect… thank you very much for bringing heart into our movie, you’re the angel in all of this hell.” To say that I breathed a sign of relief is a huge understatement – and from that moment on, I enjoyed every moment of working on the film. I had actually gotten approval from an artist I had tremendous respect for and it meant everything. It was this very kindness that was one of many things that made him so special.

It was a long and hard shoot, but getting the constant support and helpful feedback that George provided elevated the quality of my own work. Mr. Romero was truly the nicest, most supportive, sensitive and talented man I have ever had the pleasure of working with. A true artist and visionary. I will forever miss his hilarious sense of humor – his frank honestly – and most of all, his huge belly laugh.

I will also always be forever grateful for my connection with George Romero and to be a very small part of his massive, amazing legacy.

His work has been the foundation and inspiration for so many billions of dollars worth of productions and careers – including mine – since he first rolled his camera on the original Night of the Living Dead and created an entire genre which forever changed the playing field of horror.

I truly hope he is resting in peace now, free of all of pain and illness and content with the understanding of how many people his presence positively affected. Especially mine.

– William Butler “Tom” in Night of the Living Dead 1990

George A. Romero

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