Remembering George A. Romero by Miguel Rodriguez
Steve Barton
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As it probably was for a lot of us, Night of the Living Dead was a film that was as ubiquitous with late-night, sneak-under-the-covers viewing as midnight snacks and whispered laughs with sleepover friends. Of course, now we know that is at least partially attributable to an error that left this singular horror film languishing in the public domain–thus, a midnight movie TV go-to – almost from the beginning, but it is also because of the film’s distinct ability to unsettle the audience. Even an audience of adolescents hellbent on proving they couldn’t be scared in front of their friends. The final events of the film, no matter how many times they were watched and re-watched, never failed to leave us in stunned silence.
It wasn’t until I was a little older, maybe 13 years old, that I realized the same director was responsible for Creepshow, another favorite. By that time, I had inherited my mother’s Stephen King fandom, and had read King praise director George A. Romero. In this way, Romero became one of first of those directors who led me to intentionally seek out their catalog of films. The way I look at movies in general, and cult films in particular, will always be influenced by Romero’s work being part of this formative time. His films were bursting with both blood and sincerity. They were his true heart and thoughts and feelings about the world wearing the guise of exploitation cinema.
These messages behind the carnage never felt pretentious or didactic. Sometimes they were downright unintentional– Romero’s subconsciousness bleeding through into his characters and their often misguided choices. In all cases, there was something of substance in a Romero film. Something people could talk about after seeing it. Dawn of the Dead is famous for its elegant and mysterious non-explanation for the appearance of zombies, “when there is no more room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth,” but it is also known for the inspired decision to make a mall the single most desired sanctuary for our heroes, the criminals, and the zombies alike:
Francine: What are they doing? Why do they come here?
Stephen: Some kind of instinct. Memory, of what they used to do. This was an important place in their lives.
I remember making everyone watch Dawn of the Dead and talking about what a masterpiece I thought it was. It was those experiences that formed who I am now. They led me to decide my college thesis would be about the history of horror in human storytelling, and how that reflects the fears of the time. More importantly, they led me to found and continue to direct a film festival dedicated to macabre cinema and art, which is about to hold its 8th annual celebration. I can easily say I owe all of this to George A. Romero.
I got to meet the man three times – all at horror conventions. The last time was at the HorrorFind Horror Convention that used to take place in Hunt Valley, Maryland. What struck me then, and continues to strike me about Romero in person is just how unlike the stereotypical movie maker he was. He reminded my of my grandfather – blue collar, sarcastic, witty, and so down to earth he must have been made of rock. He put a little of his essence into his movies, which means we will always have him around as long as we keep them around. No wonder his characters felt so human; the man was the ultimate humanist. He simply chose to work on horror films, and all of us are incredibly lucky for that.
– Miguel Rodriguez
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