Reviewed by:

Nathaniel Thompson on November 1, 2004

Picking up after the sudden zombie attacks of NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD have spread throughout urban dwellings, George A. Romero’s classic brings his undead hordes in vibrant, bloody color for the first time with a heavier emphasis on social satire. The film begins as Fran (Gaylen Ross) awakens from a troubled nap in a television studio and enters a shouting match involving rescue stations for survivors fleeing the growing legions of flesh-eating zombies. Her boyfriend, pilot Stephen (David Emge), arranges for them to flee that night in a helicopter while pandemonium takes over the station. Meanwhile a SWAT team including young Roger (Scott H. Reiniger) infiltrates an infected ghetto tenement where the residents attempt to quarantine their writhing casualties in the basement. Another officer, Peter (Ken Foree), joins Roger in an escape from the building after a priest’s dire warning, and soon they join Stephen and Fran for a copter flight into the countryside.

After encountering trigger-happy rednecks and ferocious zombie kids, the quartet arrives at a shopping mall where the zombies cluster in the parking lot like dazed Toys-R-Us parents. With the handful of zombies inside soon subdued, they establish their own materialistic haven offering all the comforts of home with any mass market products at their fingertips. Unfortunately, paradise is destined to fall as ruthless bikers invade the complex and instigate a blood-spattered climax.

A controversial and much-discussed release, DAWN OF THE DEAD caused something of an upheaval in a film market filled with glossy, big-budget Hollywood horror product. Its unrelenting but cartoonish gore effects put FX wizard Tom Savini on the map, while the film’s unexpected success, particularly in Europe and Asia, left big budget competitors like NIGHTWING and PROPHECY floundering in its wake.

In retrospect, DAWN was a perfectly logical film for its time and captured a certain zeitgeist impossible to duplicate today. While Romero’s previous zombie film contained ripples of the paranoia, confusion, and chaos of the Vietnam era, DAWN is unmistakably the by-product of the late ‘70s American consciousness. Still scarred from the debacle of Watergate and other international crises, the country was basking in a touchy-feely atmosphere where “if it feels good, do it” was the motto of the day. Obviously the easiest method of anesthesia was running out and blowing money -- not much has changed since -- so Romero’s witty take on modern society’s deadening tendencies still packs a wallop; Interestingly, Philip Kaufman’s remarkable remake of INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS the same year offers a similar take from a pop psychology standpoint. The second act of DAWN – i.e., the part with few zombies in it – draws the ire of some fans for not splattering the screen and is sometimes dubbed “slow,” but in a sense this is the key to the film. The characters’ deep submersion in their artificial environment also forces the viewers to temporarily put the zombies’ presence in the back of their minds; suddenly we’re shocked back into reality with one remarkable cut in which a lone tennis ball struck over a wall lands at the feet of the zombies outside, a beautiful tonal shift that still draws gasps from audiences today.

Of course, the exact tone of the film also varies depending on exactly which version one sees. The most widely seen variant and the most effective overall, George Romero’s final cut, runs 128 minutes and features a musical combination of original Goblin score and witty smatterings of library cues, both thankfully available on CD. The classic Goblin theme is one of their strongest compositions, but the library bits are brilliant as well including the beloved “Gonk” track and, most subversive of all, the burst of generic “heroic” music that suddenly kicks in during Ken Foree’s big moment in the final scene.

A longer “festival version” shown at Cannes and circulated on 16mm contains several extended and alternate bits of footage, clocking in at 140 minutes and swathed completely in Romero’s library music. While the extra footage is welcome, this version suffers mightily from the absence of any propulsive Goblin underscore; it also tends to take much longer to get to the point and doesn’t make for as effective an introduction to the film. Die-hards will eat it up, however.

The least substantive but most visceral of the variants is the European cut, ZOMBI, prepared by Dario Argento. Dropping much of Romero’s steady pacing with an emphasis on action and gore including some exclusive bloody bits like the longer blood pressure machine gag, this edition skews in the other direction with a reliance on Goblin music and faster cutting. As entertaining as it is, this version comes across as more of a really long trailer than a fully fleshed-out feature; a curio usually seen in Europe and on Japanese video, this version finally makes it legitimate North American debut in this DVD set.

Incidentally, zombie fans will also note that this is the first film to fully delineate the concept of a human being bitten by a zombie slowly turning into one himself. While the idea was hinted at in NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD with the ailing girl in the basement, DAWN charts the process in harrowing detail and lays the groundwork which almost all of its successors decided to follow. Of course, this also opens up the question of whether the plague is something that only affects dead bodies or whether it is in a fact a contagion that affects the blood; by the time audiences were treated to 28 DAYS LATER and Universal’s hit-and-miss DAWN remake, this concept had become so muddied that the “zombies” were technically no longer such things at all.

Many fans thought Elite’s exhaustive laserdisc box set years ago would be the final word on the subject, but Anchor Bay has proven them wrong with a sprawling collection of extras addressing anything you could want to know about the film.

The theatrical cut contains an audio commentary with Romero, Savini, assistant director-wife-actress Christine Romero, and moderator Perry Martin; it’s an engaging and lively track as the Romeros talk about the intensive process of making the film and Savini goes into detail about his startling effects work. Also included are a couple of U.S. trailers, TV and radio spots, a poster and ad gallery, a Romero bio, and a preview of the comic book printed in whole as part of the packaging.

The second disc, the extended cut, contains a commentary with Martin and producer Richard Rubinstein, who famously had a falling out with Romero several years later. He talks about the film and his overall work with Romero from a more production and finance-oriented perspective; it’s not as ingratiating as the previous commentary but fans will still want to give it a spin. Also included are a Monroeville Mall Commercial carried over from the earlier box set, a behind-the-scenes photo gallery, a memorabilia gallery - c’mon, everyone should have that board game - and production stills.

The third disc, the European cut, contains what amounts to a party track as actors Emge, Foree, Reiniger and Ross reunite to watch the film and offer their own perspective on what turned out to be a horror milestone. They’re all good company and very intelligent; one almost wishes they had done a video version of the commentary (a la MALLRATS and HELLBOY) just to see everyone’s faces. Other goodies include international theatrical trailers, UK TV spots, galleries of international lobby cards, posters, ads, and pressbooks, and home video and soundtrack galleries, plus an Argento bio for good measure.

Still hungry? Then feast on the fourth disc, packed with documentaries that cover a number of bases. “The Dead Will Walk” offers a new, 75-minute tour with the film’s participants as the Romeros, the actors, and a host of others including Dario and Claudio Argento, Claudio Simonetti, Pat and Tony Buba, Zilla Clinton, David Crawford, David Early, Michael Gornick, John Harrison, Clayton Hill, Sharon-Ceccatti-Hill, Jim Krut, and Leonard Lies (some of them screen zombies) offer their memories of making the film. Also helmed by Martin, it’s a slick, fast and enjoyable ride.

A second documentary, Roy Frumkes’ feature-length DOCUMENT OF THE DEAD (also available separately from Synapse Films), is always fun revisit as it features incredible, extensive footage from the shooting of the film and examines Romero’s directorial process from a very close vantage point. Essential viewing if you haven’t seen it already.

The other two video extras are fairly short: a reel of silent home movies from the set narrated by one of the film’s zombies, Robert Langer, and a pretty shaky tour of the venerable Monroeville Mall with Foree. Happy hunting for Easter egg hunters, too… browsing will be rewarded.

The simple and stylish packaging, emphasizing black and red, contains the aforementioned comic and a fold-out insert built around a map design of the mall.

Nathaniel Thompson is the webmaster of www.mondo-digital.com and is the author of DVD Delirium, a guide to films on DVD. Interested parties are advised to check the FAB website at www.fabpress.com