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ZOMBIES – Dawn of the Dead

Christian Sellers — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 17:36:16 +0000

Few true classics are able to produce a sequel worthy of its name. Exorcist II: The Heretic, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, mediocre in comparison to the original. So when news that George A. Romero was intending to make a follow up to his 1968 masterpiece Night of the Living Dead was announced, there was much excitement but also a little scepticism. After all, not only had Romero reinvented the zombie by producing a contemporary satire but he had also inspired a generation of wannabe filmmakers to just go out and shoot. With such an influential film under his belt, there were some reservations that he would be able to capture lightning twice. Yet, to many, his sequel Dawn of the Dead would not only meet expectations but surpass them. With it graphic violence, biting social commentary and tongue-in-cheek humour, many would consider Dawn the ultimate zombie epic. Even now, thirty years later, its title has barely been challenged.

In the decade that had followed since the release of Night of the Living Dead, Romero’s career had fallen at each hurdle. His sophomore effort, There’s Always Vanilla, would start a growing trend of disappointing projects for the director, soon followed by the likes of Season of the Witch and The Crazies. Having added a touch of class to the zombie genre, Romero soon turned his attention to vampires with his 1977 effort Martin. It had been his most acclaimed feature for years and finally audiences and critics were starting to take note once again. Despite his fledging career, Romero had resisted producing a pointless sequel to Night and had instead struggling through one disappointment after another. He was desperate for a hit, not only for financial reasons but also to save his career. Hollywood is very unforgiving and too many failures in a row can mark the death of a filmmaker.

In 1974, Romero had visited a friend, Mark Mason of the Oxford Development Company, who had wanted to show him around his latest complex, Monroeville Mall in Pittsburgh. First opened in 1969, the shopping centre had been an impressive two-storey consumerist paradise, complete with stores for the likes of J.C. Penney and Gimbels. Mason was proud of what his company had achieved and Romero was suitably impressed, particularly by the crawl space that ran just below the roof. Mason had made a joke about how people could survive there after a nuclear attack. Laughing off the comment, Romero then began to imagine a similar scenario for a zombie invasion. His initial idea had been about a man and his pregnant partner taking refuge in the hiding place, the man jumping down into the mall and foraging for food like a hunter. It was then that he knew he had a story.

There was a problem, however, that would almost result in the movie not being made. Romero had suffered a disagreement with his former Night of the Living Dead co-author, John Russo, that had escalated to the point that they were entangled in a legal battle. Both felt that they had the right to produce a sequel to the movie without the other’s interference, and eventually the courts ruled in Russo’s favour. An agreement was finally received; Russo could continue using the ‘Living Dead‘ moniker whilst Romero could produce his own sequel under the name ‘Dead.’ In 1977, Russo published his own sequel, The Return of the Living Dead, which was set ten years after the events of Night and saw a small community attempting to keep the zombie epidemic under control, until a bus accident causes the dead to once again rise from the ground. Although he also intended on adapting it into a screenplay, the project would become a troubled affair that resulted in the director (Tobe Hopper) backing out and his replacement (Dan O’Bannon) drastically rewriting the story.

Romero, meanwhile, had begun work on his own screenplay, inspired by his visit to the mall. In the mid-1970’s, consumerist culture had taken over and shopping centres were being opened across America. Having already made a statement on the Vietnam War and civil rights movements of the 1960’s with Night of the Living Dead, Romero had found a new subject matter to toy around with. Intending to produce a sequel that would stand on its own from the original, Romero’s script would be action-orientated, portraying its protagonists as survivors forced to do battle in order to save their beloved mall from invading forces, both dead and alive. He felt inspired, more than he had done for many years, with various ideas and set pieces spilling out onto the paper. Eager to deliver something to the fans more excessive and cartoon-like than its predecessor, Romero sent a telegram to FX artist Tom Savini that simply read, ‘Hey, we’ve got another gig – start thinking of ways to kill people.’

The news of a sequel to Night of the Living Dead eventually find its way to the ears of the most unlikely of fans, Dario Argento. Having first established himself as a master of suspense with his 1970 debut L’uccello dalle piume di cristallo (The Bird With the Crystal Plumage), Argento had become the most popular Italian director of the 1970’s, directing such classics as Profondo rosso (Deep Red) and Suspiria. Romero was aware of his work and both had a mutual appreciation for each other’s talents, and so Argento was intrigued by the idea of a sequel to one of the greatest zombie flicks ever made. Romero was invited by Argento to stay in Rome whilst he wrote the script, with a new environment hopefully inspiring him to create something truly extraordinary. Accompanied by his assistant director and wife, Chris Romero, he commenced work on his latest script, writing for two days at a time before the manuscript was translated and passed onto Argento for suggestions.

The completed draft came in at a staggering 253 pages, but Romero was confident that every page was important. Impressed with Romero’s work, Argento offered to co-finance the $640,000 budget in exchange for distribution rights for non-English speaking countries and a European cut. The two agreed and Romero contacted many of his Martin collaborators, who were immediately enthusiastic at the idea of working on a sequel to a movie as renowned as Night of the Living Dead. The cinematography would be handled by Michael Gornick, whose work on Martin would lead to later collaborations with Romero on the likes of Knightriders, Creepshow and Dawn’s subsequent sequel, Day of the Dead, before turning to directing himself with Creepshow 2 in 1987. Romero would once again be accompanied by his producing partner, Richard P. Rubinstein, who would later take over control of Laurel Entertainment and help fund Creepshow.

The casting process took place in New York with the help of John Amplas, who had played the titular role in Martin and would also appear in Dawn of the Dead. Amongst the hopefuls who auditioned for the lead roles, Scott Reiniger and David Emge both worked together at a restaurant called Lady Astor’s as a waiter and cook, respectively. Ken Foree, who had studied acting at Michael Shulman’s Performing Gallery before landing a minor role in an episode of Kojak, was a friend of Duane Jones, who had played the protagonist in Night of the Living Dead. Gaylen Ross had even less experience than her co-stars and, despite feeling that her audition was a disappointment, succeeded in landing the role of the pregnant female. She would later appear in Creepshow and the cult slasher Madman, under the pseudonym Alexis Dubin.

Principal photography commenced on September 30 1977 in Pittsburgh, with Mason allowing use of the Monroeville Mall, whilst one airport segment would be shot at the Harold W. Brown Memorial Field. With the mall being open for business hours, the crew would arrive on location at 7pm, with the camera rolling for 10pm. Despite the unsociable hours, both the cast and crew were enthusiastic and the atmosphere on set was always positive. Savini, who had served as a combat photographer in Vietnam and had sees the horrors of the war through the lens of a camera, had ample experience to produce the gruesome special effects that Romero had requested. Countless local residents would volunteer to appear as zombies in the movie, as well as cast members. Even Savini’s niece and nephew, Donna and Mike Savini, would cameo as two zombie children who are shot by Foree, much to the disapproval of the actor.

Running at 139 minutes, Dawn of the Dead premiered at the 1978 Cannes Film Festival, with Argento distributing a 118-minute cut in Italy on September 2 1978. Removing much of the humour and replacing the score with one by his regular group Goblin, Argento’s version would be re-titled Zombi and would become a huge success. In America, Romero would encounter issues with the MPAA, who intended on rating the movie X, a certificate usually awarded to pornography. Romero would refuse to cut the film, a decision that would alienate many distributors, although he finally managed to attract the attention of the United Film Distribution Company (UFD), who released Dawn of the Dead unrated on April 20 1979 in New York City, with a nationwide run commencing the following month. The movie would become a phenomenal success, both critically and commercially, eventually making an impressive $55m worldwide.

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VIDEO NASTIES – Zombie Flesh Eaters

Christian Sellers — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 18:46:11 +0000

Of all the filmmakers to grace the ‘Video Nasty’ list, the most common name to appear was Lucio Fulci. Throughout the existence of the DPP’s list of obscene feature films, three would belong to the Italian director, whilst a fourth (Lo squartatore di New York/The New York Ripper) would be cause equal controversy whilst escaping the ‘nasty’ label. Out of the three that would be included, perhaps the most notorious of these was Zombi 2, released in the UK as Zombie Flesh Eaters. Despite being cut by one hundred and six seconds and granted an X-rating (an equivalent to the current ‘80’), the movie would eventually become a target of the DPP and, in October 1983, would become one of the many so-called ‘nasties.’ There was one sequence in particular that would cause such an outcry (and it would be the image of an eyeball being pierced by a splinter that would cement Fulci’s reputation and career), and soon the government began banning similar films, regardless of content (resulting in Bruno Mattei’s Virus/Zombie Creeping Flesh also making the list).

Lucio Fulci was born on June 17 1927 in Rome and had early aspirations of becoming a doctor, before a stint as an art critic convinced him to enroll at Luchino Visconti’s Experimental Film Centre. His first foray into the industry was a writer on the little-seen 1948 documentary Pittori Italiano dei dopoguerra (Italian Painters of the Post-war). He soon made the acquaintance of Marcel L’Herbier, his first chance to get behind the camera was as an assistant director on Gli ultimi giorni di Pompei (The Last Days of Pompeii) two years later. Spending his early years working alongside such greats as Federico Fellini, Roberto Rossellini and Mario Bava, Fulci finally made his directorial debut in 1959 with Il ladri (The Thieves). Despite failing at the box office, it gave him the confidence to try his hand at various genres, resulting in comedies (Toto all inferno/Toto Goes to Hell, Urlatori alla sbarra/Howlers of the Docks), musicals (Ragazzi del jukebox/Jukebox Kids) and, eventually, thrillers, beginning with Una sull’altra (Perversion Story) in 1969.

Throughout the 1970’s, Fulci would develop a cult following with a series of gialli that included Una lucertola con la pelle di donna (A Lizard in a Woman’s Skin), Non si sevizia un paperino (Don’t Torture a Ducking) and Sette Note in Nero (Seven Notes in Black/The Psychic). As his appeal soon began to slip, good fortune would come in the shape of Fabrizio de Angelis, who had produced Joe D’Amato’s Emanuelle – Perché violenza alle donne? in 1977. Impressed by Sette Note in Nero, de Angelis approached Fulci and offered him the chance to direct his next feature. Italian cinema at that time had become notorious for plagiarizing and capitalizing on the success of American movies and de Angelis was no exception. It had been almost a decade since the phenomenal success of Night of the Living Dead and its creator, George A. Romero, had finally followed it up with his blood-soaked epic Dawn of the Dead.

Released in Italy on September 2 1978 under its international title Zombi, the movie had managed to out-gross its predecessor, partially thanks to the involvement of Dario Argento, one of Italy’s most popular filmmakers, who had co-funded the movie and obtained the European distribution rights from Romero. de Angelis knew that he wanted to somehow jump on the Zombi bandwagon and so suggested to Fulci that they produced something similar. But they didn’t simply want to make a carbon copy of Dawn of the Dead and so the first decision was made to move the story away from the cities and the suburbs, as had become commonplace since Romero had revamped the genre back in 1968. Instead, they decided to revisit the origins of the zombie, which had first been brought to the attention of the western world in the 1920’s when American explorer William Seabrook explored the tribes and villages of Haiti in search of rumours of voodoo and zombification for his book The Magic Island. Drawing heavily from this type of theory, de Angelis and Fulci decided to take the zombie back to the Caribbean.

The task of writing the script would eventually fall to Elisa Briganti, whose husband Dardano Sacchetti had become a successful writer during the early 1970’s with such cult favourites as Argento’s Il gatto a nove code (The Cat o’ Nine Tails), Bava’s Reazione a catena (Twitch of the Death Nerve) and Stelvio Massi’s La banda del trucido (Destruction Force), which would mark his first official collaboration with Briganti. For the script, Sacchetti would provide uncredited assistance, as would Fulci, who would change various elements and restructure the plot in order for the story to be closer to what he had intended. To further cash-in on the success of Dawn of the Dead, the script was titled Zombi 2 in an effort to fool audiences into believing that it was an official sequel to Romero’s blockbuster.

Although Fulci’s gialli thrillers had contained moments of gore, he realized that if he was to outdo Dawn of the Dead then he needed to provide special effects even more outrageous. A then unknown Tom Savini had been responsible for filling Romero’s movie with blood, guts, decapitations, disembowelments and other tasty set pieces, yet the blood had been an unrealistic shade, almost orange, resembling the style that had been used in Argento’s previous hits Profondo rosso (Deep Red) and Suspiria. In order to create something more realistic and brutal, Fulci turned to Giannetto De Rossi, the legendary makeup artist responsible for the effects in Sergio Leone’s classic western C’era una volta il West (Once Upon a Time in the West) and had prior zombie experience after working on Jorge Grau’s cult horror flick Non si deve profanare il sonno dei morti (The Living Dead at Manchester Morgue/Let Sleeping Corpses Lie).

De Rossi had, incidentally, previously worked with Fulci on two comedies, 1964’s I maniaci (The Maniacs) and 1972’s All’onorevole piacciono le donne (The Senator Likes Women… Despite Appearances and Provided the Nation Doesn’t Know). His crowning achievement would be the infamous eyeball scene, in which a zombie’s hand crashes through a window, grabbing a woman’s hair and pulling her forward until a splinter punctures her eyeball, all in one take without the camera cutting away. Not only would it result in the movie falling foul of censorship but would also launch Fulci’s trademark, as from the on many of his horror films would include some kind of eye shot (from the bleeding of the eye in Paura nella città dei morti viventi (City of the Living Dead) to a shot in E tu vivrai nel terrore – L’aldilà (The Beyond) where a character is paralyzed and attacked by spiders.

One common method in Italian horror is the casting of actors of different nationalities, often resulting in more than one language being spoken on set. This would cause constant communication problems but was intended to help the movie appeal to various countries. Filmmakers would ask for their actors to perform in their native language and then the film would be dubbed for the relevant market. Thus, it would not be uncommon for American and British actors to star in Italian movies, many of which would become ‘video nasties.’ For the lead role of Anne Bowles, who investigation into the whereabouts of her missing father drives the films narrative, the producers eventually settled on Tisa Farrow, the younger sister of Woody Allen regular (and former wife of Frank Sinatra) Mia Farrow. Tisa Farrow would soon retire from acting, making only one other notable appearance, in D’Amato’s Antropophagus (Anthropophagous: The Beast), the following year.

The role of reporter Peter West, who would join Anne on her journey to the remote island of Matool, would go to Scottish actor Ian McCulloch, whose subsequent Italian work would include Zombi Holocaust (Dr. Butcher M.D.) and Contamination. The remaining principal roles would be awarded to English born Peter Johnson (from The Exorcist rip-off Chi sei?/Beyond the Door), Pierluigi Conti (credited under the American-sounding Al Cliver) and Auretta Gay, who would only appear in three more films. Fulci would surround himself with talent behind the camera as well, most notably cinematographer Sergio Salvati, who had first made a name for himself as a cameraman on Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo (The Good, the Bad and the Ugly) and would later find acclaim for his D.O.P. skills on Fulci’s subsequent zombie films, as well as movies for Charles Band’s Empire Pictures, which was based in Italy at that time.

Passed by the BBFC as Zombie Flesh Eaters on January 2 1980 and released theatrically by Miracle Films, the movie would require extensive cuts from the eyeball scene, as well as a zombie-munching shot. For its home video run, VIPCO would release two versions of the film, one as seen in cinemas and an all-new ‘strong uncut version.’ The movie would find its way onto every single draft of the DPP’s ‘video nasty’ list, eventually being released once again by VIPCO in 1992, although this cut would run almost four minutes less than the version passed by the BBFC in 1980 (this, however, would not stop VIPCO from claiming the film to be uncut). Another version would be passed in 1999, although this would still be omitting twenty-three seconds. A full uncut release of Zombie Flesh Eaters was not passed in the UK until October 26 2005.

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VIDEO NASTIES – The Evil Dead

Christian Sellers — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 16:31:16 +0000

Of all the seventy-two films that would at one point or another grace the DPP (Director of Public Prosecutions)’s ‘Video Nasties’ lost, arguable the most controversial was The Evil Dead, an extremely low budget splatter film that had been shot by a nineteen-year-old filmmaker with no recognizable stars and a ludicrous premise. Dubbed the ‘number one video nasty’ by Mary Whitehouse, a moral campaigner and instigator of the scandal that had resulted in countless videos being seized and retailers being prosecuted during the mid-1980’s. The film certainly had its notorious moments – most notably a sequence in which a young woman is brutally raped by a tree – yet it had been passed with less than a minute of cuts by the BBFC in 1982. Yet as the media sensationalized the dangers of these so-called ‘obscene’ movies, The Evil Dead would become the most referenced and despised of them all.

The film had first been conceive by a young man called Sam Raimi who, along with several friends, had shot a string of amateur comedies on Super-8. Utilizing their love of The Three Stooges and featuring their classmates in various roles, the group had produced such bizarre titles as The Happy Valley Kid, Shemp Eats the Moon and The Great Bogus Monkey Pignut Swindle. They began to take a serious interest in filmmaking whilst attending Michigan State University, in which Raimi and his close friend Robert Tapert would continue to make their short features along with Bruce Campbell, whom they would usually place in front of the camera as he was the one that the girls would find attractive. Raimi’s first truly ambitious project was It’s Murder!, a thriller in which a cop (Campbell) investigates a homicide in which the victim’s nephew stands to inherit his fortune.

The film was regularly screened at MSU with door charges covering its meagre budget. As their ambitions grew their grades began to suffer, with Tapert missing his economics exams and Raimi losing interest in his literature course. Although It’s Murder! would often be greeted by a lukewarm response, there would be one sequence in particular, in which the antagonist attacked its victim from the backseat of the car, that was guaranteed to provoke a reaction from the audience. This promped the young filmmakers to research horror, constantly visiting drive-ins to not only deconstruct the genre but also the reactions of those who watched them. This prompted Raimi to make another short film, purely as an experiment to see if they were capable of producing an effective horror. The result was Clockwork, a thriller which saw a murder – portrayed by future collaborator Scott Spiegel – stalking a young woman.

Realizing that to make a feature film they would require a full crew, a substantial budget and a suitable location, Raimi decided that the wisest course of action would be to shoot a short that could act as a promotional trailer to potential investors. Inspired by H.P. Lovecraft, whom Raimi had been studying in his literature class, he penned a story about a group of friends who unwittingly release a horde of vengeful spirits from an ancient Indian burial ground. They decided to shoot what would become Within the Woods at a farmhouse owned by Tapert’s family on the outskirts of Marshall, Michigan. For the role of their heroine, Saimi settled on Ellen Sandweiss, who had appeared in school plays with Campbell as well as their short films. Her on screen boyfriend, who would become possessed and terrorise the group, would be portrayed by Campbell himself, who was always willing for the young director to torment him as he saw fit.

Realising that they would require more complex special effects that they had previously used, Raimi hired a young artist called Tom Sullivan, who had moved to live on campus at the university in 1977 with his wife. Having become intrigued after seeing an ad for a screening of The Happy Valley Kid, Sullivan had contacted Raimi and offered his services. With just a makeup budget of $100, Sullivan designed all manner of effects, including several limbs and possessed demons. Campbell would be subjected to five hours of makeup appliance and would suffer a reaction from the ingredients, causing a rash to appear across his skin. With the short completed, they decided that it was time to evolve from Super-8 to 16mm, which would then be blown up to 35mm for theatrical distribution. To raise the necessary budget, Raimi, Tapert and Campbell dressed themselves up to resemble businessmen and then shopped the short around local investors, including a group of dentists and even Campbell’s father.

With Raimi’s feature-length script, Book of the Dead, now completed, they began casting around Detroit, although with the project being non-union many actors were unable or unwilling to participate. Betsy Baker had performed in countless plays and musicals at MSU and had appeared in various commercials and industrial films. At first she was reluctant to work with such heavy prosthetics but eventually the charms of Raimi and his friends won her over. Sandweiss would once again appear as one of the protagonists, whilst the two remaining principal leads would be taken by Theresa Tilly and Richard DeManincor, although due to being members of the Screen Actors Guild they were forced to be credited under pseudonyms, Sarah York and Hal Delrich, respectively. Campbell, meanwhile, would take the lead role of the accidental hero, Ash Williams, whilst Spiegel, Raimi’s brothers, Ted and Ivan, and Tapert’s sisters, Mary Beth and Dorothy, would have uncredited roles as stand-ins (or Fake Shemp, in an homage to The Three Stooges).

For the feature film, Sullivan was allocated approximately $500 of the overall budget to create the elaborate special effects, which this time included decapitations, twitching severed body parts and stop motion. To create the demonic eyes that the characters would have as they were possessed, each actor was forced to wear Scolero contact lenses, although due to their size they could only be worn for fifteen minutes. Baker would be required to have a cast made of her head, in which hot latex would be placed over her face, prompting the actress to eventually suggest to Raimi that they instead used minimal makeup and have her possessed character appear more childlike. For the scene in which a severed head is still seen to be moving on the ground, sections of the floor were removed so that the Sandweiss could place her head through, whilst her body remained hidden underneath. For the arms and legs, which had also been chopped to pieces but were still alive, Spiegel would provide his own appendages by laying down below the floor next to the actress.

The sequence in which Sandweiss was to be attacked by trees had not been written with any kind of sexual content, but during shooting it was suggested that her character could be raped by a branch. Sandweiss would be unaware just how graphic this scene would be until she saw the completed film at the premiere. The stop motion finale was created through a collaboration Sullivan and Bart Pierce, which would be shot whislt Raimi was in New York editing the movie. One aspect of the movie that would be praised would be the cinematography, particularly the inventive use of the camera. Most notably, the so-called ‘Shaky-cam,’ in which Raimi had nailed a camera to the centre of a large plank of wood, and then his director of photography, Tim Philo (who had shot Within the Woods), would have to run as fast as he could to create the illusion that the audience was seeing through the eyes of the evil spirits.

Book of the Dead was first picked up in America by legendary producer Irvin Shapiro, a man who had been distributing films since the 1920’s and had been responsible for the likes of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Nanook of the North and The Battleship Potemkin. Although he admitted the film was hardly the art he was used to releasing he sensed its potential, although he would suggest that they change the name from Book of the Dead to The Evil Dead. It would first gain attention after a screening at the 1982 Cannes Film Festival, in which none other than Stephen King would enthusiastically describe it as ‘the most ferociously original horror film of the year.’

The Evil Dead was passed by the BBFC on October 4 1982 with forty-nine seconds worth of cuts, most notably to the tree rape sequence. The film was picked up by Palace Video after one of its founders, Stephen Woolley, had attended a screening at the American Film Market. Fuelled by eye-catching artwork by a young designer called Graham Humphreys, the movie was released simultaneously at both the cinema and on home video in February 1983, reportedly selling around 50,000 copies. Almost immediately, the film would fall foul of both Whitehouse and the tabloids, with copies seized in Manchester less than a month after its release. The following June, the DPP drafted up a list of fifty-two films that they considered to be ‘video nasties’ (which would change monthly, with new titles added and the less offensive ones removed) and The Evil Dead, among others, faced prosecution. Powell himself attended various trials in an attempt to defend the movie and their decision to release it, and even Raimi was called to London to testify, although he never had chance to actually comment at the trial. The movie was eventually granted a new video release on March 15 1990, although an additional forty-nine seconds were removed, before finally being granted an uncut release on March 2 2001, with the distributors having sourced a print from America.

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ZOMBIES – Return of the Living Dead 3

Christian Sellers — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 23:29:37 +0000

One of the most important aspects of making a successful horror movie is emotion. It is crucial that the viewer somehow connects with the protagonists and generates sympathy, thus making the danger that they face all the more involving. Unfortunately, the genre has built a reputation as being shallow and lacking heart. Whilst this is undeniable with many of the lesser efforts, the most effective horror films over the decades have featured fully developed characters who, even before the actual terror begins, have lives and relationships and problems that the viewer can relater to. Then once the horror element is added this becomes all the more terrifying. Whilst many zombie films have been noted for their social commentary, very few allow the viewer to become intimately familiar with the protagonists prior to the carnage and gore that was no doubt the selling point, often leaving the fate of the characters purely a tool to showcase impressive prosthetic effects. The makers of Return of the Living Dead 3 were aware of this when they attempted to inject some romance into the genre.

Brian Yuzna had previously made a name for himself as the producer of Re-animator, arguable one of the most enjoyable zombie movies ever produced, when he made his directorial debut with the underrated splatter flick Society in 1989. The following year, he stepped up to the director’s chair with his own sequel, Bride of Re-animator, which heavily referenced James Whale’s 1953 classic Bride of Frankenstein, by having one of the protagonists (both of which are morally questionable scientists) mourning for his lost love, whose heart finally beats again within the body of a Frankenstein-like female corpse. It had been Yuzna’s intention to focus as much on the emotional aspect of the story as the gore and action, as well as attempting to bring the zombie centre stage. By his own admission, the results were not entirely successful, but when producers Danica Minor and Joel Castleberg approach him about taking over the now-dormant Return of the Living Dead franchise, Yuzna knew that he had been given a second chance.

Discussions began on what direction the new sequel would take and Yuzna stated from the beginning that the story should be told from a zombie’s viewpoint. At that time, the only film that had come close to portraying a zombie in a sympathetic light was George A. Romero’s Day of the Dead, which had featured a deceased soldier called Bud who had begun to demonstrate human characteristics. A deal was soon made with Ash Shaw of Imperial Entertainment and Yuzna and his producers began to interview various writers. But soon it became clear that Minor and Castleberg hadn’t been entirely honest with regards to owning the rights to the franchise and the project began to fall apart. Thankfully, Trimark suddenly expressed interest in making a sequel and so Larry Myers, with the help of the company’s chairman Mark Amin, purchased the rights from Tom Fox, who had produced the first two movies.

Despite the project changing hands, Yuzna and his producing partner Gary Schmoeller were still onboard, although their involvement without Minor and Castleberg left their former collaborators feeling somewhat betrayed. Once Yuzna had explained his intentions, Trimark suggested that he contact John Penney, a writer new to the company who had, coincidentally, acted as an assistant editor on the first film back in 1984. The two connected immediately and Yuzna asked his producers how much freedom they would have to divert away from the formula established in the first two movies. Trimark stated that as long as there was brain munching and references to Trioxin (the chemical responsible for re-animation in the series) then he was free to take the concept in whichever direction he wished.

During discussions, Penney eventually hit upon the idea of making the movie a Romeo and Juliet-style love story. Yuzna immediately sensed the potential and the two soon agreed that the two protagonists would resemble a Sid and Nancy-like doomed relationship, with the zombie (in this instance Julie, a sexy teen) almost like a heroin addict who is desperate for her fix. Although Yuzna had a habit of including extremely dark, subtle humour in his movies, he was adamant from the beginning that the tone should be darker than the previous films of the series, avoiding the slapstick approach and taking the horror aspects seriously. One element to the story that Penney had included that was from personal experience was the recent death of his father, something which would influence the relationship between the hero, Curt, and his strict military father.

With the freedom to interpret the zombie mythology how they saw fit, Yuzna decided that the virus was something that the ‘living’ dead are still human, but diseased, an infection that attacks the central nervous system, and the only thing that can ease their suffering is by devouring nerves, hence their obsession with eating brains. To help draw inspiration for the latter half of the story when Julie mutilates her flesh in order to fight her craving, Yuzna and Penney visited various fetish bars in Los Angeles, where they witnessed firsthand the gothic and sadomasochistic culture where people pierce all areas of their bodies for various different reasons. Knowing that the fans of the series will demand excessive gore (something that the first sequel was short on), Yuzna expanded the climax in order to add as many gruesome set pieces as possible (both Society and Bride of Re-animator had both boasted over-the-top finales).

Yuzna recruited many individuals whom he had collaborated with on his last zombie feature. Pete Von Sholly had designed the storyboards on both movies, whilst his wife had created the Bride’s dress in his Re-animator sequel. Thomas C. Rainone had worked extensively on not only Bride of Re-animator but also Yuzna’s Initiation: Silent Night, Deadly Night 4, as well as his scripted sequel Silent Night, Deadly Night 5: The Toy Maker. Anthony Hickox, director of cult flick Waxwork (which, incidentally, co-starred Dana Ashbrook from Return of the Living Dead Part II), recommended his director of photography, Gerry Lively, to Yuzna, and in return won a cameo as a scientist who is infected as a zombie in the opening sequence. Return of the Living Dead’s Brian Peck also appeared briefly during this scene, making him the only actor to be involved in all of the first three films.

With casting underway, Trimark hoped to obtain the services of James Karen (also a veteran of the first two films), although sadly scheduling conflicts made this impossible, although he did visit the set. For the role of Julie, the audition required for the actress to play the part as a drug addict, as opposed to a zombie, and Mindy Clarke, who had only recently completed a stage production of Sid and Nancy, made a suitable impression. There was some consideration for an appearance of Tarman (a fan favourite after his brief roles in the first two films), but again this proved impossible. With the first zombie required to be unusually thin, the producers eventually drafted in the services of Clarence Epperson, a homeless man who had taken residence at the LAX airport. The filmmakers made sure he was fed and housed in a hotel during his time on set.

Unlike many writers, Penney was present throughout the shoot, thanks to an Associate Producer credit. Yuzna kept him involved throughout every aspect of production and the writer would constantly give feedback. Principal photography took place between October 20 and November 19 1992 at Santa Clarita Studios and on location around Los Angeles, as well as at the Marineland of the Pacific, a theme park that had closed down in 1987. Several different special effects companies provided the various different prosthetics and makeup that was required, with such talented artists as Steve Johnson (who would provide the S&M-style zombie look for Julie), Kevin Brennan and Wayne Toth, whose main duty was designing the head-splitting zombie.

When the completed movie was returned to Trimark, the producers were impressed with the results, but sadly the MPAA didn’t feel the same way, ordering various cuts before they would grant the movie an R rating. The censors in Germany were even more strict, demanding an astounding eight minutes of gruesome footage to be removed before release. Return of the Living Dead 3 was screened at various festivals and was met with a positive response, but unfortunately the disappointing performance of Warlock: The Armageddon forced the distributors to pull the movie from a major release and instead send it quietly to video. Over the years, both Penney and Yuzna have considered making a sequel to the movie, with the latter writing a treatment entitled Hell Mary that would expend upon elements that had been explored with the movie (such as the military and goth/S&AM culture). Sadly, however, the sequel rights to the Return of the Living Dead have proved to be somewhat complicated and it would take twelve years for another to be released, a double bill which sadly killed off any interest in the franchise. Yet, along side the original, many fans feel that Return of the Living Dead 3is by far the highlight of the series.

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VIDEO NASTIES – Zombie Creeping Flesh

Christian Sellers — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 01:28:14 +0000

Whilst Italian cinema of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s had shamelessly plagiarized more successful productions, perhaps none could be considered as guilty as Bruno Mattei 1980 zombie flick Virus, more commonly known under many of its alternative titles, such as Night Of The Zombies, Hell of the Living Dead and, most infamously, Zombie Creeping Flesh. Taking elements wholesale from George A. Romero’s flesh-eating epic Dawn of the Dead, as well as stock footage and music samples from various sources, Zombie Creeping Flesh would fail to gain the recognition that Romero or his Italian counterpart Lucio Fulci would receive, resulting in Mattei often being written off as a talentless hack. Regardless, Zombie Creeping Flesh would be one of several Italian productions to make its way onto the DPP’s list of ‘Video Nasties.’

The project had first been conceived as a treatment by Spanish writer José María Cunillés, which had been passed across to husband and wife team Claudio Fragasso and Rossella Drudi. The industry, particularly in Italy, had become obsessed by zombies in the wake of Dawn of the Dead’s success, with Fulci’s Zombi 2 (Zombie Flesh Eaters) capitalizing on the newfound interest. With this in mind, the script was filled with scenes of gut-munching, brains exploding against walls and all manner of gruesome set pieces. Eager to jump on the zombie bandwagon, the project attracted the interest of two production companies, the Rome-based Beatrice Films and the Spanish Films Dara.

Mattei had come on board at the insistence of the producers. Initially, there had been two versions of the script that were available. One the director had expressed interest in, whilst the other he didn’t care for, finding the dialogue ridiculous and the story uninspired. Unfortunately, however, he was overruled and the producers decided to go with the script he disliked. Mattei’s father had owned a small editing company and so his son had developed a taste for filmmaking from a young age. Having started out in the industry as an editor, Mattei would eventually work his way up to directing, often using pseudonyms (a common device in Italy to help appeal to foreign markets), his ‘official’ being Jordon B. Matthews.

The late 1970’s would see him combining adult material with exploitation, resulting in such efforts as KZ9 – Lager di Sterminio (S.S. Extermination Love Camp), Le notti porno nel mondo (Mondo Erotico) and Emanuelle e le porno notti nel mondo n. 2 (Emanuelle and the Erotic Nights). Soon, however, his interests turned to something more commercial, horror, and eventually found himself on the set of Virus. Having been wowed by George A. Romero’s work, he decided to emulate (steal) various elements from Dawn of the Dead. With the Spanish producers insisting that he change his alias from Jordon B. Matthews, he eventually settled on Vincent Dawn, an explicit reference to Romero. He would not be the only one involved in Virus who would have to use a more American sounding pseudonym, as much of the cast and crew would also work under alternative names.

Cunillés, in an effort to avoid sounding too Spanish, chose to be credited as J.M. Cunilles, although as a producer he would be listed under his real name. Franco Garofalo, who would play one of the lead roles, would modify his first name to Frank, whilst co-star José Gras would use the name Robert O’Neil. Two other actors to follow suit were Gabriel Renom and Josep Lluís Fonoll, credited under the more accessible Gaby Renom and Luis Fonoll, respectively. Lead actress Margit Evelyn Newton, meanwhile, chose to be credited under her normal name. With the movie being produced with international sales in mind, the producers were nervous that if the production sounded too Italian or Spanish it could hurt the ticket sales in America and Britain.

Principal photography took place over five weeks and proved to be a troublesome affair for the director. The exterior sequences were shot near Barcelona in Spain before the production returned to Rome to film the interiors at Studio Mafera. But the producers were unimpressed with the results and the filmmakers soon realized that they would need more material if they were going to compete with the other zombie films on the market. Mattei suggested that they add some scenes with the natives and a new mid-section was written, which would see the SWAT team that had been sent to the New Guinea island witnessing firsthand as the natives try to deal with their sick and dying. Unwilling to burn their dead, the recently re-animated would then devour and/or infect the living, thus causing the virus to spread further.

In an effort to hide the fact that the film had been shot in Spain, it was decided that they would use stock footage from a documentary and insert it into the movie. The film in question that had been used was allegedly Barbet Schroeder’s 1972 drama La vallée (which the Pink Floyd album Obscured by Clouds had been recorded for), although there seems to be some discrepancy as to whether or not this was the film used for the footage. To make sure that the inserts did not look to fake, the crew built a fake village that would match the one on film and shot several sequences in order to fill in the gaps in the story. These included a bizarre ceremony and a chance for heroine Newton to unnecessarily bare her breasts for the camera.

Perhaps even more controversially than the footage, other material that the production stole was the music by famed prog rock group Goblin, who had rose to fame as regular collaborators of popular director Dario Argento. Mattei’s friend, Carlo Bizio, had provided the director with the music that he would require, which included excessive samples from Dawn of the Dead (which had been co-produced by Argento, who had edited the European version), as well as music from Luigi Cozzi’s science fiction horror Contamination. Coincidentally, other aspects of Dawn of the Dead that had been ‘borrowed’ by the filmmakers included the SWAT storyline, the killing of a zombified young child and the collapse of society as debated on a talk show.

The movie was first released in Spain on November 17 1980 under the title Apocalipsis cannibal, and in Italy the following August. Virus/Hell of the Living Dead received reviews even more negative than most Italian films of the era, with the main focus being the recycled music and incoherent storyline. The shock tactics of the zombie genre was starting to wear thin with many critics and it would take a lot more than gore to change their opinions. There would be countless zombie films released in Italy the same year as Hell of the Living Dead, including Umberto Lenzi’s Incubo sulla città contaminata (Nightmare City), Fulci’s Paura nella città dei morti viventi (City of the Living Dead) and Andrea Bianchi’s Le notti del terrore (Burial Ground).

Virus was released in the United Kingdom as Zombie Creeping Flesh (to cash-in on the success of Fulci’s Zombie Flesh Eaters) and was submitted to the BBFC on May 10 1982. The censors forced minor cuts, most notably on the gruesome climax in which a zombie tears out the heroine’s tongue and then forces its fist inside her mouth, ripping out her eyes. Surprisingly, the distributor would order further cuts of their own, eventually resulting in around fifteen minutes of footage removed (including the sequence in which the SWAT team storm the embassy, which sets the later events in motion). This decision was in order for the movie to be short enough to be able to be shown on double bills, despite removing important plot points. Regardless, this heavily censored print would find its way onto the Video Nasty list in the UK and would remain unavailable uncut for twenty years.

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ZOMBIES – The Dead Pit

Christian Sellers — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 17:24:12 +0000

By the late 1980’s zombies had become so commonplace that every wannabe filmmaker was attempting to shoot their own low budget effort. Whilst the decade had begun with the slasher film being the genre of choice for struggling directors, the success of Re-animator, The Return of the Living Dead and Day of the Dead had given way to countless variations of the zombie theme. This resulted in such varied quality as Hard Rock Zombies, The Dead Next Door, I Was a Teenage Zombie, Night of the Creeps and The Video Dead. Amongst all of these was The Dead Pit, a camp-yet-gory exploitation flick that threw everything from mental patients to nudity into the mix in an effort to stand out from the crowd. It certainly made an impression on renowned film critic Joe Bob Briggs, whose delirious review cheered that the movie boasted ‘Two nekkid breasts. Thirteen dead bodies. Seventy-four undead bodies. Eye gouging. Multiple head ripping.’

The Dead Pit was the creation of between the partnership of Brett Leonard and Gimel Everett, who self-confessed film obsessives who desperately wanted to make their own feature. Leonard had found himself working for a natural health food whilst Everett had landed a job as a script supervisor for a producer named Jack A. Sunseri. Short on finds and desperate to break into the industry, the two were forced to sleep on the floor of their friends, Sandy Isaac and Randy Fontana, as they tried to land their big break. It was during her time on the set of a straight-to-video horror entitled Deadlock that Everett eventually started a conversation with Sunseri and told of her and Leonard’s filmmaking ambitions. As luck would have it, problems would arise with director James Dodson’s abilities to shoot the action scenes (Dobson would, ironically, later helm the action flick Behind Enemy Lines II: Axis of Evil) and so Leonard was called in at the last moment to try to help rescue certain sequences.

Impressed with the young wannabe director’s efforts, Sunseri immediately approached the couple about shooting another low budget horror and asked them for suggestions. With Deadlock having been shot at a mental institution in California called the Agnews Developmental Center and the production being allowed to use the building for free, due to it being classified as a California state facility, Sunseri suggested that whatever concepts they thought of should somehow include the location. Leonard and Everett, both being horror fanatics, and particularly of George A. Romero’s zombie series, the two decided to make their story focus on the undead within the institution. Another classic that Leonard would take inspiration from was Milos Forman’s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, which was also set in a mental facility.

The Agnews Developmental Center was first opened in 1885 in the San Jose-Milpitas region of California. The building had suffered a significant amount of damage during the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, which itself had caused around 3,000 along the coast, and the state were forced to reconstruct much of the property. During the 1920’s the institution was expanded and would become one of the largest mental facilities in the United States, until the governor (and future president) Ronald Reagan forced many of them to close during the 1970’s. When the makers of Deadlock and The Dead Pit arrived at Agnews there were still many patients on site, although their productions were given ample room to shoot undisturbed.

Everett had first met Leonard in her final year of film school and the two soon realized that they had similar ambitions and visions on what they wanted to achieve within the industry. The Dead Pit would mark their first professional collaboration and, despite the meagre budget that was afforded to them, they were still able to obtain many experienced individuals for the shoot. To handle the cinematography they drafted in Marty Collins, a talented Steadicam operator and director of corporate films. With his knowledge of dollies and tracking shots, he was able to lend a more professional look to the shoot. Composer Dan Wyman had first started out as a collaborator of John Carpenter on the likes of Halloween and The Fog, as well as providing the score for the 1981 Linda Blair slasher Hell Night.

Working on the theory that every horror film needs at least one recognisable actor, Leonard cast Jeremy Slate in the lead role of Dr. Gerald Swan. Slade was a thirty-nine year veteran of the industry and had appeared alongside the likes of Elvis Presley (in G.I. Blues and Girls! Girls! Girls!) and John Wayne (in The Sons of Katie Elder and True Grit). Having previously co-starred in Deadlock, he was the director’s first choice for his hero. The remainder of the cast, however, were largely made up of inexperienced-yet- eager young actors. Cheryl Lawson, who would portray the heroine, Jane Doe, was a trick rider with acting ambitions and managed to obtain the role due to two of her talents – her ability to scream and her body, which would be on show for much of the film’s running time.

Danny Gochnauer, who would play the film’s twisted antagonist, Dr. Colin Ramzi, was a student at Monterey Peninsula College and had been performing in a play. Much like Slade, Stephen Gregory Foster had previously appeared in Deadlock and would later resurface in Die Hard 2 and Leonard’s adaptation of Stephe King’s The Lawnmower Man. Everett’s daughter, the beautiful Mara, would have a small role as Nurse Robbins, who is killed by Ramzi when he administers a transorbital lobotomy, a procedure first popularized by neurologist Walter Freeman during the 1940’s, in which an ice pick was hammered into the frontal lobe. Incidentally, Slade’s son would also meet a grizzly demise in his cameo as an orderly. Both Leonard and Sunseri would also make an appearance, as the drooling mental patient during the opening credits and the head orderly, respectively.

With a budget of just $350,000 and a very tight schedule (Leonard and Everett were given just a few weeks to prepare for the shoot) filming commenced at Agnews, with many of the patients appearing as extras in the background of several scenes. Due to the institution having been in operation for decades, very little production design was required to make the rooms look creepy and authentic, with the crew only relying on minimal lighting to make each scene look effective. To achieve the look of the spiral staircase leading down into the cellar, the sequences were in fact shot in the church tower, and then edited to only appear as if the characters are heading underground.

The special effects and makeup were handled by a group of inexperienced artists who were extremely excited to finally have a chance to work on a feature film so were enthusiastic at being able to create the various effects. Ed Martinez, who would become a valuable asset to the production, is still working in the industry today and recently provided effects for the likes of Black Devil Doll and Retardead. David W. Mosher has enjoyed a very successful career, with Hellraiser: Bloodline, Deep Rising and several Star Trek movies on his résumé, whilst Michael Wick would work on such blockbusters as The Nightmare Before Christmas, Artificial Intelligence: AI and the first two Star Wars prequels.

The Dead Pit was first released in North America in February 1989 and later distributed by Imperial Entertainment, whilst the Canadian run was handled by Nova Home Video. Upon its initial release, The Dead Pit failed to generate much attention due to the highly anticipated sequel The Fly II and the Joe Dante black comedy The ‘burbs also appearing. Aside from the glowing review from Briggs and the likes of Fangoria, the reaction from many critics did little to help the popularity of the film, although it would later gain a cult following during the 1990’s when it was released on VHS. More recently, Code Red re-mastered the movie and released it, complete with a commentary from the filmmakers and an interview with Lawson. Whilst The Dead Pit failed to achieve the same kind of devotion as many of its contemporaries, it was still successful enough to inspire the name of a website.

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ZOMBIES – Night of the Living Dead

Christian Sellers — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 23:03:26 +0000

By 1968, zombies had become a prominent fixture of the horror genre. From Victor Halperin’s 1932 classic White Zombie (thought by many to be the first true example), through cult favourites such as I Walked With a Zombie to such ridiculous efforts as Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy, the dead returning to life and attacking the living has long been an obsession for storytellers. But a low budget exploitation flick, produced by a group of budding filmmakers who specialized in commercials, would seemingly appear from nowhere and revolutionize the genre, adding cannibalism and social commentary which would result in something cinemagoers had never witnessed before. This would become the dawn of a new age – the rise of independent cinema, the end of the sixties and the birth of the flesh-eaters.

The movie had been the brainchild of a group of Pittsburgh industrial producers who had dreamt of breaking into the film industry. The principal figure among them was George Andrew Romero, a New York native who had moved to the city in 1957 to study art at the Carnegie Institute of Technology. Having first experimented with filmmaking at the age of fourteen by borrowing his uncle’s camera and shooting his own feature, The Man from the Meteor (which would result in his arrest after throwing a flaming dummy from off a rooftop), Romero had shown great promise and, midway through his studies, dropped out of school and soon found himself on a film set, as a gopher for Alfred Hitchcock’s latest thriller North by Northwest.

Having made the acquaintance of three equally enthusiastic friends – John Russo, Russ Steiner and Richard Ricci – the group decided to form a company together, The Latent Image, with the intention of shooting commercials. Despite their enthusiasm, the group were still without equipment and so Romero would borrow $5,000 from his rich and generous uncle to purchase a 16mm camera. At first the work was few and far between, resulting in the producers struggling to keep their office warm during the winter season, but soon their reputation began to grow around Pittsburgh, shooting adverts to the likes of Chevy. One commercial in particular, which Romero would base on the classic The Fantastic Voyage, would receive great acclaim.

By 1967 the company was a success and soon conversation turned to the possibility of making a feature film. With their profits they purchased a 35mm camera and Russo suggested that if they could share the costs among ten of them then each could donate $600 and they would have a budget of $6,000 to work with. The group soon began searching around their neighbourhood for successful businessmen to approach for funding. Eventually they managed to convince another six people to join their venture. These included Ricci’s brother, Rudy (who would later contribute to the story for Russo’s unofficial sequel The Return of the Living Dead), local investor Vince Survinski, Steiner’s brother, Gary, attorney David Clipper and co-founders of Hardman Associates, Inc., Karl Hardman and Marilyn Eastman.

It soon became evident that horror was the obvious choice, as an exploitation flick could be produced cheaply and quickly and would soon make its money back on the drive-in circuit. But the obvious question was what kind of movie would they make? Romero dusted off an old short entitled Anubis, which he had written after reading Richard Matheson’s apocalypse tale I Am Legend. Sensing the potential, Russo agreed to help adapt the premise into a usable screenplay and the company was soon renamed Image Ten. Soon the script, which had been dubbed Night of the Flesh-Eaters, began to take shape and once a draft had been prepared that everyone involved was pleased with pre-production commenced. Richard Ricci had initially been in the running to direct but eventually the task fell to Romero, having gained the most experience shooting commercials.

In an effort to save costs, the roles were filled by friends of the producers, with three of the principal leads being taken by Eastman, Hardman and Steiner. Duane Jones, a local African-American actor, would eventually be cast as the hero, Ben. Many critics would later see this as a bold move for the filmmakers, although Romero has always maintained that Jones was chosen simply because he had given the best audition. Regardless, strong black characters would begin to resonate throughout Romero’s zombie franchise, later echoed with Dawn of the Dead’s Peter, Day of the Dead’s John and Land of the Dead’s Big Daddy who, in a humorous twist, would be a zombie. The remaining roles were filled by local actors, many of whom were eager to appear in makeup as the undead, whilst Hardman’s own daughter, eleven-year-old Kyra Schon, would take the role of his sick child.

Production began in July 1967 at a farmhouse near Monongahela River that was set for demolition. Initially, the shoot was only set to last nineteen days, as the crew would be required to shoot commercials once again. As principal photography commenced America was experiencing a terror of its own, with racial riots commencing in major cities across the country (including Buffalo, Newark and Detroit), much of which can be seen as a subtext (intentional or not) in the movie. The $6,000 would soon become $114,000 as the shoot was forced to halt and then recommence, but the crew would remain in high spirits, each person helping in every capacity, be it special effects or appearing as a zombie. One Pittsburgh native who had been set to provide the effects but would ultimately be sent overseas to Vietnam during pre-production was Tom Savini, who would later enjoy great acclaim for his work on the first two sequels.

The zombie makeup was created by Hardman, who used mortician’s wax to create the rotting skin, whilst Eastman would help with the colouring of the flesh, giving the ghouls the look of a corpse. Even Romero got involved with the effects, creating a dead body that the heroes would find rotting at the top of the stairs in the farmhouse. This was achieved by modifying a Rovell skull model kit from a hobby shop and slicing a ping-pong ball in two and adding black pupils to create eyeballs. For the scenes in which actors would strike the zombies aggressively, mannequins were used in their place, which would then be edited subtly into the finished cut. Survinski’s brother, Regis, and his best friend, Tony Pantanello, were responsible for the explosions, the main one being when the truck sets on fire, killing two of the characters. Wanting to provide a show-stopping moment, they loaded the truck with TNT and gasoline, resulting in the explosion sending the vehicle up into the air.

Due to the basement in the farmhouse being too damp, the crew decided to shoot the scenes underneath the offices at their office, whilst the newsroom sequences (which are shown on the TV throughout the movie) were filmed at the Karl Hardman Studios. His vice president, Frank Doak, would take the role of a scientist who is interviewed on the news. To help create the illusion that the epidemic had become nationwide, the crew made their way to Washington D.C. to shoot scenes outside the Whitehouse. Due to filming without a permit outside the home of the president, the filmmakers were forced to shoot quickly and cautiously to avoid being arrested. Once the film was completed, Romero and Russo drove out to New York to screen the print to their distributors, it was announced on the radio that civil rights leader Martin Luther King had been assassinated. Just two months later, Robert Kennedy (younger brother of the late president John F. Kennedy) would also be murdered. It was perhaps a small wonder that their movie would prove to be so nihilistic and bleak.

Prior to its release, the film was re-titled Night of the Living Dead and released by Walter Reade Organization in North American on October 1 1968. Despite the legacy that Romero’s feature would eventually create, the initial reviews were decidedly mixed. Roger Ebert, who had expressed concern over the young age of the audience, had stated how the mood of the viewers had changed once the young couple are killed when the truck explodes; “Horror movies were fun, sure, but this was pretty strong stuff. There wasn’t a lot of screaming anymore; the place was pretty quiet. When the fire died down, the ghouls approached the truck and ripped apart the bodies and ate them. One ghoul ate a shoulder joint with great delight, occasionally stopping to wipe his face. Another ghoul dug into a nice mess of intestines.” It was at this point that the horror genre, and more specifically the zombie film, would change forever. No longer would filmmakers hint and suggest at what could happen to their protagonists. Now their flesh was being stripped away and consumed. Audiences left the cinemas silent, their minds attempting to fathom what they had just witnessed.

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ZOMBIES – White Zombie

Christian Sellers — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 23:38:10 +0000

It is difficult to imagine a time without zombie movies. Throughout the first three decades of the twentieth century, filmmakers were still yet to embrace the fascination with the undead, despite a relatively healthy interest in horror. The word ‘zombie’ had first entered the western consciousness through the writings of American occultist and explorer William Seabrook, whose 1929 text The Magic Island had charted his adventures around various remote Caribbean islands. Priding himself on his outrageous research and bizarre anecdotes, Seabrook had become something of a cult figure, and his time in Haiti would produce arguably his most entertaining and influential work. Having witnessed everything from voodoo rituals to the concept of zombies, whom many of the local inhabitants believed were powerful representations of mortality and death. Seabrook claimed to have viewed such events, having been taken by a farmer out across the island where he saw with his own eyes zombified workers at a plantation. It was this account, fictional or not, that first brought the notion of the living dead to the attention of the white man.

Perhaps the first example of the undead as entertainment came with the release of Zombie, a low budget stage production conceived by playwright Kenneth Webb, whose previous efforts had been entertaining musical shows. Inspired by the claims of Seabrook, Webb’s three-act play was met with largely negative reviews, with Time’s review referring to it as more of ‘a sketch than a portrait.’ Despite a lukewarm response, both Webb’s effort and Seabrook’s tales had reached the attention of Hollywood producers who sensed the potential of exploiting the newfound monster on the big screen. Victor and Edward Halperin, the director-producer siblings who had previously been responsible for an adaptation of Mrs. Henry Wood’s novel East Lynne (shot in 1930 as Ex-Flame), were immediately struck by the notion of the undead and commissioned screenwriter Garnett Weston to develop a story that they could shoot on a low budget. Garnett had previously dabbled with the concept in Salt is Not for Slaves, a short story first published in a fantasy magazine called Ghost Stories in 1931.

Upon hearing that the living dead were making their way to the big screen without his consultation, Webb attempted to take the Halperins to court over charges of breaching copyright. This was a futile gesture, however, as Webb had not been the one to first conceive the idea of zombies and therefore had no artistic control over their use in popular culture. Without the backing of a major studio, the brothers knew that their movie, White Zombie, would require some kind of appeal to audiences and so they decided that they would have to cast a ‘name’ in the lead role. Bela Lugosi had rose to prominence after winning the eponymous role in Universal’s high profile adaptation of Dracula. Having already received acclaim for his performance in Horace Liveright’s 1927 play, Lugosi had been perhaps a little too arrogant when accepting the part in the movie, failing to negotiate a reasonable fee that would result in the star being paid only $500 a week for seven weeks’ work. The movie had become a success but the actor had been left near bankrupt and desperate for another role.

Despite Universal’s reservation about casting Lugosi in the film, its unexpected success forced them to consider his appeal. With their biggest star, Lon Chaney, having passed away in 1930, they were eager to find a replacement and soon felt that the Hungarian-born actor could manage the task. They soon offered him the lead in another adaptation, that of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, first suggesting him for the doctor and then the monster. But Lugosi, feeling that the role was beneath his talents, would eventually pass on the opportunity and the part was instead offered to forty-three year old British actor Boris Karloff. Realizing his mistake, Lugosi was once again desperate for work and so immediately accepted the lead in Halperins’ latest flick, as the sinister ‘Murder’ Legendre.

For his role, Lugosi was offered $800 a week, slightly more than his salary on Dracula but what the actor had failed to take into account was that the shoot was only to last eleven days, meaning that his total salary would not even reach $1,600. But by then he had signed the contract and was unable to negotiate a higher amount. Close to bankruptcy and eager for money, Lugosi threw himself into the role. He became renowned for his stubbornness on the set of his movies and his egotistical attitude, often feeling that he was more important than the work and should be in classier productions. His bitterness towards Karloff, who would become a huge star after Frankenstein became yet another success for Universal, was also well documented over the years.

The Halperins finally managed to secure the necessary budget, estimated to have been somewhere between fifty and sixty thousand dollars, and production commenced during March 1932. Aside from Lugosi, the only other significant performer was Madge Bellamy, who had become a minor celebrity during the silent era, her contract with Fox Film Corporation during the 1920’s resulting in such successes as Love Never Dies and The Iron Horse. Robert Frazer, who would portray the role of Charles Beaumont, had previously earned his place in history by becoming the first actor to play the fictional character Robin Hood in a motion picture, the film in question being a thirty-minute silent shot in 1912 and directed by Étienne Arnaud and Herbert Blaché. Throughout his career, which would last thirty-two years, he would appear in over two hundred films, before succumbing to leukemia in 1944 at the age of fifty-three.

Principal photography took place at RKO-Pathé Studios in Culver City and Universal Studios, Universal City. The groundbreaking makeup was designed by Jack P. Pierce, who had been a regular with Universal, having provided – at times uncredited – work on such classics as Frankenstein (and later The Mummy and The Wolf Man). Pierce had previously worked with Lugosi on Dracula, where the temperamental star had refused to allow Pierce to apply his makeup, having been used to designing his own luck during his time on stage. Lugosi and Pierce would once again work together on The Black Cat and The Raven, both of which would also co-star Karloff (who would receive top billing on both productions).

Despite claims that Lugosi had always regretting taking the role in White Zombie due to his low salary, the film would further cement his reputation as a horror icon who, along with Chaney and Karloff, would dominate the screen during the early days of horror cinema. The success of White Zombie would be credited to three individuals – Lugosi, Pierce and Arthur Martinelli, whose striking cinematography would help generate a sense of dread and foreboding amidst the gothic surroundings. He would later return to the genre four years later for Revolt of the Zombies, once again a Halperin production. The film would encounter various difficulties as the filmmakers attempted to secure a distribution deal, with Columbia and Universal briefly expressing interest before United Artists agreed.

Although both Dracula and Frankenstein had been a success, the industry still remained convinced that horror was not a lucrative genre and so the studio attempted to market the movie as a thriller. One publicity campaign even capitalized on its relation to The Magic Island, claiming to be ‘based upon personal observations in Haiti.’ The movie also became notorious for its excessive marketing gimmicks; perhaps the most inspired being during its run at the Cincinnati United Artists theatre shortly after its release. The cinema had gone so far as to feature a coffin by the main entrance that contained a skeleton (not a prop but a real one that had been loaned by a doctor). A wire had been laid down from the jaw to a room below, where an employee would make noises into a loud speaker whilst pulling on the wire, causing the skeleton’s mouth to move.

The critical reaction to the film was decidedly mixed, many praising its effective use of atmosphere whilst criticizing the ludicrous plot. In their August 2 review, Variety commented that, ‘Now and then a tendency to overplay jars slightly, but in the main the atmosphere of horror is well sustained and sensitive picturegoers will get a full quota of thrills.’ Time, meanwhile, stated that, ‘White Zombie is the latest jitter and gooseflesh cinema,’ before humorously adding, ‘The acting of everybody in White Zombie suggests that there may be grounds for believing in zombies.’ Whilst the movie seemed to have disappeared for several decades, a renewed interest in White Zombie has cemented its reputation as not only a milestone in zombie cinema but also a masterpiece of terror.

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ZOMBIES – Plague of the Zombies

Christian Sellers — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 17:11:25 +0000

Whilst the early years of zombie cinema had been largely American produced and set in such remote and ‘alien’ locations as Haiti and various other un-westernized Caribbean islands, the 1960’s saw Britain developing an interest in the undead. Alongside Sidney J. Furie’s 1961 effort Doctor Blood’s Coffin and 1965’s The Earth Dies Screaming (directed by Terence Fisher, previously known for The Curse of Frankenstein), the most significant of these features was The Plague of the Zombies, which would mark Hammer Films’ one and only foray into the zombie sub-genre. Produced during their most lucrative years, the movie may not rank among the studio’s most profitable or respected offerings but still stands as a perfect example of pre-Night of the Living Dead gothic zombie horror.

The project had first been conceived by Peter Bryan in 1962, who had penned the scripts for two of previous successes, The Hound of the Baskervilles and The Brides of Dracula. For his inspiration, he turned towards the early days of zombie storytelling and one element in particular – voodoo. Taking its cue from The Magic Island, a groundbreaking text by occultist and traveller William Seabrook on his voodoo explorations through the Caribbean (often credited with introducing the concept of the zombie to western culture), the treatment was set in nineteenth-century Haiti where an Englishman’s attempts to cheat his way through a seedy card game results in him having to run for his life, eventually finding his way deep into the jungle where he comes across a tribe who practice zombification. Discovering the secret himself, he returns home to his newly inherited land and begins to kill off and then resurrect many of the local villagers.

Having previously earned their success with colour remakes of various ‘30’s Universal classics (including Dracula, Frankenstein, The Phantom of the Opera and The Mummy), Hammer had begun to explore other areas of gothic horror and soon expressed interest in Bryan’s concept, The Zombies. Anthony Hinds, a Hammer regular who had proved himself to be both a capable writer (The Curse of the Werewolf) and producer (The Quatermass Xperiment), was brought on board to help flesh out the treatment and the first draft was finally completed by September 1963. But the gruesome nature of his story had left the executives feeling nervous and the idea was shelved, eventually being resurrected the following June and included among Anthony Nelson Keys’ four picture deal with Seven Arts Productions, Twentieth Century-Fox and ABPC.

Keys, who had first begun as a production manager before rising to the status of producer, had become a frequent associate of Hinds and sensed the potential in his and Bryan’s work. Realizing that the film could be produced cheaply, the decision was made to film the script (now re-titled The Plague of the Zombies) back-to-back with The Reptile, the Hinds-scripted monster movie to be directed by John Gilling. Certain changes were made to the script that would help make the feature most cost-effective and then pre-production commenced, with Gilling once again in the director’s chair. Another change to the script had seen the racial elements of Bryan’s draft replaced by an English setting (Cornwall, to be precise).

July 7 1965, the filmmakers were given strict guidelines by the MPAA (Motion Picture Association of America) on what elements of the film could cause issues with the censors. The suggested cuts included the decapitation of one of the principal female leads, which had originally been scripted as three blows to the neck with a spade, now reduced to one. The BBFC (British Board of Film Classification) also gave their specifications, which also included concerns over the script’s ending. Once the suggested changes had been made, Hammer was ready to move ahead with the project and immediately began casting, with regular André Morell (Quatermass and the Pit, The Hound of the Baskervilles, She) landing the central role of Sir James Forbes, whilst The Haunting’s Diane Clare would be cast as his daughter, Sylvia.Shooting commenced on July 28 at Bray Studios and Oakley Court, Windsor, using the same locations and sets as The Reptile in order to keep the cost down. The zombies, far removed from the earlier, inferior models of the 1940’s, were designed by Australian makeup artist Roy Ashton, another Hammer veteran (having providing equally impressive work on Dracula and The Mummy). Filming through the country’s hottest months proved unpleasant for the actors, who would struggle to breathe underneath the heavy makeup, although producers were often on-hand with cold drinks and ice lollies to help keep their performers comfortable. The hard work would eventually pay off, however, as one common praise that the movie would receive upon its initial release would involve Ashton’s effects.

Despite Morell’s co-stars lacking his experience, the actors proved capable and professional throughout the shoot. Brook Williams, who would portray another key character, Dr. Peter Thompson, had enjoyed a minor role alongside Kirk Douglas and Richard Harris in the 1965 war move The Heroes of Telemark, whilst his on screen wife would be played by Jacqueline Pearce, whose only film role to date had been in the forgettable drama Sky West and Crooked. The supporting cast would include TV star John Carson, Michael Ripper (from David Lean’s 1948 adaptation of Oliver Twist) and Dennis Chinnery (Hancock’s Half Hour). Stuntmen Peter Diamond, Reg Harding and Keith Peacock would be uncredited as zombies.

Principal photography finally came to an end on September 8 and all involved were pleased with what they had accomplished. Just one week later, on September 13, Gilling was back on set to shot his follow up feature, The Reptile (which had been adapted from John Elder’s The Curse of the Reptiles script, which Universal had rejected two years earlier). Hammer attempted to rush The Plague of the Zombies through post-production but processing complications with Technicolor resulted in various delays. Hinds, meanwhile, decided that Diane Clare, in the role of Sylvia Forbes, required alterations and ordered for her dialogue to be re-dubbed. The finished feature was eventually delivered to their distributors, Warner-Pathé for the UK release and Twentieth Century-Fox for North America.

The movie was released as the supporting part of a double feature along with Hammer’s more eagerly awaited sequel Dracula Prince of Darkness (which would see Christopher Lee back in the role that had made him a star), making its debut on January 9 1966, backed by a huge publicity campaign. The film was released in America three days later, again as a double bill, with a trailer that would boast many of the key shots from the feature. In a move for typical of William Castle or Roger Corman, patrons in many cinemas were offered a pair of zombie eyes to wear during the show. The Plague of the Zombies would become another success for the studio, although surprisingly they chose not to produce a sequel or any other zombie projects in the future.

The critical reception that the movie received was above average, although perhaps not as successful as any of their previous efforts. A critic for Variety, reviewing the movie on January 1, commented that ‘Plague of the Zombies is a well-made horror programmer about strange happenings a century ago in a small town on the moors… The formula scripting involves about 55 minutes of seeding with various unexplained incidents, followed by an explanation of the diabolical forces involved. Then in the last 35 minutes, the demons are foiled.’ The common opinion among critics was that, whilst the script was generic and followed the templates of other Hammer stories (such as Dracula) a little too closely, it was a nicely shot and atmospheric chiller. Whilst many aspects of the movie may seen tame in the modern age of eviscerated and partially devoured corpses, The Plague of the Zombies played a small role in the new direction that the genre would soon take and is an important milestone in the history of zombie cinema.

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ZOMBIES – The Return of the Living Dead

Christian Sellers — Sun, 16 Aug 2009 16:41:40 +0000

Few zombie movies have gained the mass cult appeal that Dan O’Bannon’s horror comedy The Return of the Living Dead received when it was released back in 1985. Claiming to be a semi-official sequel to George A. Romero’s classic Night of the Living Dead, his mix of splatter and punk sensibilities struck a note with young audiences who had been disappointed with Romero’s second sequel, Day of the Dead. Full of camp humour, nudity and slapstick violence, O’Bannon had delivered a movie that was closer in tone to Romero’s 1978 Dawn of the Dead than his subsequent effort and would become a modest hit at the box office. But the success of many low budget horror films in the eighties was proved on home video, which is where The Return of the Living Dead would develop a cult following, along with its hip soundtrack (which boasted, among others, tracks from The Damned, 45 Grave and the appropriately titled Flesheaters). In the twenty-four years since its release, it has produced four sequels and countless imitators, as well as having a major influence on pop culture’s perception of the zombie genre.

The origin of The Return of the Living Dead can be traced back to the late seventies, when a dispute between co-writers George A. Romero and John Russo resulted in them both attempting to claim ownership of Night of the Living Dead, with the intention of making their own official sequel. The movie, released in 1968, had become an unexpected success and had helped not only reinvent zombie cinema but also independent filmmaking. In the years that followed, director Romero had produced several hit-and-miss features, including Season of the Witch, The Crazies and even a vampire drama, Martin. His desire to continue his zombie saga was hindered by Russo, who also wanted to claim the series as his own. Entering a legal battle, the courts ruled in favour of Russo, who could continue using the ‘Living Dead‘ moniker, whilst Romero could develop his own ‘Dead‘ sequels. The first to take action was Russo who, in 1977, published the novel Return of the Living Dead, which was set ten years after the events of Night of the Living Dead and saw a small reacting with marshal law upon anyone infected by the zombie disease, until a bus crash results in the area becoming overrun with the dead. Romero, meanwhile, had sought financing from Italian filmmaker Dario Argento and had produced his own theatrical follow-up, Dawn of the Dead, released in Europe the following year under the alternative title Zombi.

Russo eventually sold the rights to his story in the fall of 1980 to independent producer Tom Fox who, along with several associates at Hemdale Film and Orion Pictures Corporation, began to develop the story in anticipation for the looming zombie boom that was about to engulf the genre. Along with Dawn of the Dead, other features to toy with the concept included Sam Raimi’s notorious video nasty The Evil Dead, Romero’s anthology Creepshow and, to a lesser extent, Gary Sherman’s Dead & Buried. As 3D began to make a comeback with the success of the latest Jaws, Amityville and Friday the 13th sequels, Fox began to contemplate jumping on the bandwagon by producing his own 3D feature, with The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s Tobe Hooper slated to direct, who had recently scored a major hit with the Steven Spielberg-produced Poltergeist. Conscious of Russo’s story resembling the feel of Night of the Living Dead too much, the decision was made to reject his one-hundred and-eight page treatment and instead hire a new writer to approach the material in a fresh way. Dan O’Bannon was best known for penning the science fiction blockbuster Alien when Fox offered him the chance to rewrite the story, opting instead to employ a more comical approach in an effort to distance his screenplay from Romero’s ‘Dead‘ series. Hooper became frustrated at the constant delays and eventually left the project and signed with Cannon Films for a three-picture deal, starting with the O’Bannon-scripted Space Vampires, later renamed Lifeforce.

By the time O’Bannon had submitted his revised screenplay in the October of 1983, Fox decided to offer the writer the chance to direct. Having worked as not only a writer but also a producer, editor, actor and special effects artist on numerous films over the last decade, O’Bannon had yet to direct himself and was excited at the new challenge. The project’s investors, John Daly and Derek Gibson, had tried several times to contact Romero with the offer of bringing him on as producer but the filmmaker failed to respond, though his producer, Laurel Entertainment’s Richard Rubinstein, had expressed concern that the title The Return of the Living Dead could confuse Romero’s fan base. One decision O’Bannon had made with regard to his zombies was that he wanted to make them as different as possible to the ones from Night of the Living Dead and its sequel and so not only made them capable of running (as opposed to Romero’s slow and lumbering dead) but also had them only feasting on human brains and not flesh. One ingenious aspect of his story was in mixing middle-aged characters with a group of young punks, all holed up together side-by-side, fighting to stay alive.

When it came round to casting for the movie, O’Bannon had initially considered taking the role of Frank himself. Having played a significant part in John Carpenter’s student film Dark Star, the new director was already accustomed to working in front of the camera but when veteran actor James Karen (who had appeared in Hooper’s Poltergeist) attended an audition for another role, O’Bannon was suitably impressed enough with him to offer him the part instead. For the character of Trash, the punk girl who would spend the majority of the movie naked, O’Bannon originally offered the role to ex-stripper Jewel Shepard, who had made her acting debut in the eighth volume of the adult series Electric Blue in 1982. Hesitant at taking her clothes off for in the film, she was instead hired as Casey, one of the supporting characters, whilst Trash was offered to Linnea Quigley, who had slowly developed a reputation as a ’scream queen,’ thanks to her appearances in Don’t Go Near the Park, Graduation Day and Silent Night, Deadly Night. For her audition, Quigley read the scene where Trash fantasises about different ways to die, which made enough of an impression on the producers that she was immediately hired. The two principal roles – of warehouse owner Burt and embalmer Ernie, respectively – were offered to the notoriously difficult Clu Gulager and oddball Don Calfa, whilst the part of Freddy, Frank’s comedy sidekick, went to the charismatic Thom Mathews. The remaining roles were taken by relative newcomers John Philbin (Children of the Corn), Beverly Randolph (who had appeared briefly alongside her twin sister, Kimberly, as babies in a couple of films back in the mid-sixties), Brian Peck and Miguel A. Nunez Jr. and the late Mark Venturini, who had both co-starred together (though not sharing scenes) in Friday the 13th Part 5: A New Beginning.

After two weeks of rehearsals, which allowed the cast to develop a friendship that the filmmakers hoped would translate on screen, principal photography commenced on in May 1984 in Palos Verdes Peninsula, with the first day’s shooting consisting of the scene between Colonel Glover (Jonathan Terry) and his wife (Cathleen Cordell) at their home, which would start the movie immediately after the opening credits (a ten-minute prologue had preceded that). For the next two weeks, the production moved onto an oil grove in Sylmar in the San Fernando Valley, where production designer William Stout had designed the fictitious ‘Resurrection Cemetery,’ using foam to create the tombstones and gateway arch (the latter which was provided by Applied Entertainment, who went bankrupt during the early stages of filming). Stout had become close friends with makeup artist Ron Cobb, who had previously collaborated with O’Bannon on both Dark Star and Alien, and had been brought on board by co-producer Graham Henderson at the director’s insistence. For Quigley, whose character was to strip in the cemetery and then spend the majority of the story naked – both alive and as a zombie – special makeup effects artist William Munns designed an appliance to cover the actress’ crotch, to give what the filmmakers have described as a ‘barbie effect.’ O’Bannon began to express his disappointment with Munns efforts, such as an animated skeleton that was to rise from out of a grave and the headless yellow cadaver (played by Terrence M. Houlihan) that would be used on a different location later in the production. The director would later dismiss the artist and be forced to shoot many of his effects from a distance to hide their inferiority. Mumms would later describe O’Bannon as the most difficult person he had ever collaborated with and claimed to have no fond memories of the experience. Munns was replaced by Kenny Myers, whose previous experience included Friday the 13th Part 3 and the underrated slasher The Final Terror. Despite having to redesign many of the props and effects, Myers insisted to the producers that Munns name should also remain in the credits.

The next location was in an abandoned building in Burbank, whose exteriors doubled for the Uneeda Medical Supply warehouse, and a set in Los Angeles where the majority of the internal scenes were shot. This location was where most of the action was set, with Gulager, Karen and most of the key players being joined by puppeteer Allan Trautman, a Washington University graduate who had first developed his craft whilst still at college, working on the seventies television show The Letter People. At 6ft 2in, Trautman towered over many of his co-stars and his performance as ‘Tar Man’ (the zombie that Frank and Freddy had accidentally re-animated which would be the catalyst for the carnage that followed) helped make his character a fan favourite (indeed, he would be invited back for a brief cameo in the sequel three years later). Tar Man’s makeup had been created by Munns, who had designed a two-piece black leotard in which the head would be glued onto the shoulders and then a substance would be applied to make the character appear moist and slimy. Despite being understandably unpleasant, with the actor having to breath through a straw as the effects would become very restrictive and claustrophobic, Trautman looks back on the experience with find memories. To achieve the shot near the beginning of the movie where Frank and Freddy’s curiousity leads to a military drum being breached and Tar Man’s mummified corpse to melt somewhat as it came into contact with oxygen, the effects team created a wax zombie which they then superimposed with another shot using sulfur to help liquidise the wax.

Even though the atmosphere on set was relatively pleasant, there were still moments of tension, particularly involving O’Bannon, who was beginning to feel the stress of first-time filmmaking, and Gulager, who had a notorious reputation for violent outbursts. Production soon moved from the Uneeda warehouse to the Resurrection Funeral Home, which would introduce the demented character that was Ernie, played with a manic glee by Calfa, who had previously made an impression in Spielberg’s World War II comedy 1941 and the erotic thriller The Postman Always Rings Twice. Reni Santoni, a friend of the actor, had a passion for Nazi memorabilia and upon learning about Calfa’s character, Ernst Kaltenbrunner, informed him that there had been a high-ranking German official during the war who shared the same name. Calfa decided to incorporate various aspects of this into his performance, with his first appearances showing the mortician breaking out rigamortis from a corpse whilst listening the Nazi anthem Panzer Rollen in Afrika Vor on his headphones. With Frank and Freddy now infected and facing certain (un)death, Frank decides to take his own life, in what is perhaps the only emotional moment in the entire movie. This was a suggestion of Karen’s, who felt that his character committing suicide would make more sense and more of a dramatic impact than if he was just to become another zombie. The final scene to be shot was Glover’s phone call to the General from inside his secret office at his mansion. Stout painted over the funeral home set with red paint and then furnished the room to make it appear to resemble the rest of his home.

Filming finally came to a halt in July, though a few pick-up shots would follow a couple of months later. O’Bannon and his editor, Robert Gordon would eventually trim the running time down by approximately twenty minutes, though these would be re-inserted for a workprint edit that would surface as a bootleg sometime later. To coincide with the release, Russo penned a new novel, this time based on the movie, that would share the same name as its predecessor, despite being a separate story. Whilst the first book centred on a dominating father, a reactionary church and various other assorted characters. The new novel, much like O’Bannon’s screenplay, would focus on a small group of survivors, despite the addition of a KGB sub-plot. Despite a November 1984 date set for a premier, the release date would be postponed until the following August. The Return of the Living Dead was unleashed barely a month after Romero’s third zombie outing, Day of the Dead, made its theatrical debut. Fans seemed disappointed with the latter and instead embraced the punk sensibilities and slapstick violence of O’Bannon’s movie. Its surprise success guaranteed a sequel, and whilst several cast members were promised the chance to return, the only actors to reappear in Part 2 were Karen and Matthews (who were once again a double act), Trautman and Peck (Scuz), who would cameo as various zombies throughout the film (including the now legendary ‘Thriller‘ ghoul, in an homage to Michael Jackson’s classic music video). Calfa had originally been lined up to play the supporting role of Doc Mandel, though he would eventually be replaced by Philip Bruns. In fact, Calfa had even wrote a treatment with partner Roger Carney back in 1985 which would continue on from the events of the original film and would see the survivors (the nuke had missed its target and landed in another neighbourhood) attempting to flee the city. Elements of their concept made their way into the official sequel, while Calfa’s story, appropriately titled Revenge of the Living Dead, was adapted into an as-yet unreleased graphic novel by British artist Gary Smart. And whilst the series would continue to deteriorate into stupidity and monotony, The Return of the Living Dead remains one of the most popular and enjoyable zombie movies of all time.

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