Dawns of the Dead
By Graham Arneson
Remakes have become a staple of the horror genre since the beginning of the new millennium. Starved for creativity and seeking the box office revenues which an established property promises, production companies continuously churn out updated versions of classic horror films differentiated from the originals by bigger budgets and a polished appearance. 2004’s Dawn of the Dead (Zack Snyder) arrived on the cusp of this trend, helping to establish remakes’ potential for financial success. The movie’s generally positive reception from critics and fans alike, though, is more surprising than its worldwide gross. Given that the 1978 original is often championed as the greatest zombie movie of all time, the prospects of this remake living up to its predecessor seem nonexistent. Snyder’s Dawn is not as subtextually rich as Romero’s, but it nonetheless succeeds by updating the original’s broad themes for a new millennium and offering an overall different parallel experience.
The foremost dichotomy between the two films is in their presentation of the titular dead. During much of Dawn of the Dead’s (George A. Romero, 1978) runtime, the creatures purposelessly shamble about as if in a trance. If not for the bluish green makeup adorning their faces, they could be mistaken for human. These zombies are also deceptively smart, displaying an ability to open doors, use tools, and draw on experience from their time as living beings to reason. An example of this occurs when Stephen, having recently been turned, leads an undead horde to his group’s hideout, which had remained hidden until then. Despite having a nearly identical mindset, the ghouls are also visually differentiated from each other. A variety of hairstyles, brightly colored shirts, and other attributes make some stand out in a crowd. These aspects coalesce to make the dividing line between living and dead uncomfortably thin, giving Romero’s social commentary more poignancy. In his book The Cinematic Body, Steven Shaviro posits that the zombies “seem most fully human when they are wandering the aisles and escalators of the mall like dazed but ecstatic shoppers.” (91) These scenes provide the film’s comic relief, as the creatures are rendered non-threatening while they stumble over themselves on stairs and escalators. Their human qualities are enough to elicit sympathy for the zombies as they are brutalized by a biker gang at the film’s climax.
Sharp dressers like these two stand out among the undead horde. (Screenshot from Dawn of the Dead, 1978)
No such feelings can be had for the terrifying monsters depicted in the 2004 film. Snyder’s zombies are enraged and uncontrollable, each one extremely dangerous by itself. These superhuman creatures are able to break through doors and chase down cars, radically changing the apocalyptic landscape. In Romero’s Dawn, humans can stay alive by outwitting the zombies. Other people are the greatest threat to the film’s protagonists. Though some strife exists between characters in the remake, the overwhelming force leveled against them inspires cooperation. In this way, Snyder’s vision of humanity on the brink of extinction is more optimistic than Romero’s. The zombies, however, retain few human qualities. The undead horde is represented as one giant mass. Their bloodied bodies, bland clothes, and, by the film’s end, rotting flesh make them monstrous and wholly unsympathetic. Any lingering consumerist tendencies have also disappeared. As the characters observe that hundreds of zombies have surrounded the mall, they theorize as to the reason for this congregation. Rather than stating that the dead are driven by instinct to inhabit a place which dominated their lives, as in the original, the group decides that the zombies can sense where humans are and have no motivation beyond finding food.
This pack of zombies is fast and ferocious, but picking out individuals is a challenge. (Screenshot from Dawn of the Dead, 2004)These many differences speak to the contrast between American culture in 1978 and 2004. The new zombies’ frightening rage, a far cry from the mindless complacency of the original’s undead, is an expression of the middle and lower class’s growing resentment of the wealthy 1%. This theme is present in the 1978 Dawn in the form of the biker gang’s attack on the mall, a suburban institution containing everything previously denied to them by their social status. Shaviro says their marauding is motivated by “a kind of class resentment.” (91) The zombies, however, are content to “reproduce those very aspects of contemporary American life that are openly celebrated by the media.” (Shaviro 92) By 2004, the gap in wealth had become so great that the middle class, having realized it was dissolving, became less willing to follow the guidelines for American citizenry and consumerism. Zombification, in stripping away all higher functions of the human mind, leaves only instinct. The undead in both eras represent the subconscious attitudes of the U.S. population.
The zombies’ newfound speed, meanwhile, reflects the internet’s quickening of the average middle class person’s life. Snyder’s editing and camerawork echo this sentiment, as Romero’s steady shots and smooth transitions are replaced by shaky cam and quick, frenetic cuts. This style also accommodates the rapidly shortening attention spans of the teenage crowd which likely comprised a sizable portion of the film’s audience. As the first high profile zombie movie with any interest in social commentary since 2001, Snyder’s Dawn is also heavily influenced by 9/11. Any doubts about the relevance of this event are dispelled in the opening montage, which shows apocalyptic vignettes from around the world. The penultimate scene is of soldiers defending the U.S. capitol. Instead of ending with this image, the montage continues on to show a reporter in the Middle East attacked by zombies. 9/11’s fallout explains the undead’s usurping of humanity’s position as the greatest threat to itself. In 1978, the U.S. was not engaged in open conflict. However, residual effects from the Vietnam war and racial tensions led to a period of internal strife. During this time, the greatest danger to national stability came from within our country. By 2004, 9/11 had shifted our focus to terrorism. Threats were coming from outside U.S. borders, and, for a time, the American people were united against a common enemy. Snyder’s Dawn reflects this, as his zombies are unrecognizable as the humans they once were. The protagonists band together against an opposing force which is as mysterious, unfathomable, and inhuman as terrorists were to the U.S.
The passage of twenty-six years resulted in less change for the newer film’s human characters. Snyder’s Dawn upholds Romero’s tradition of featuring an African American man and blonde woman as the chief protagonists. Kenneth, like the 1978 Dawn’s Peter, is a capable and charismatic former police officer. Ana is stronger and more competent than the original’s Francine, but this is partially due to the latter woman’s pregnancy. The remake shifts this burden onto another character, allowing Ana to fill the female action hero role which had been popularized by 2004. Luda, who inherits Francine’s pregnancy, is a side character defined by this one trait. She speaks broken English and is utterly helpless. Others, including her husband Andre, only think of her health and safety as a means of preserving the life growing inside her. This new attitude is a radical change from the first Dawn, in which abortion is discussed as a real possibility in the interest of safeguarding Francine’s life. These differing viewpoints have less to do with time periods than the method of filmmaking. Romero’s Dawn was made on a low budget and destined to be maligned by politically correct viewers from its conception. It even received an “X” from the ratings board upon release. Consequently, he was free to include almost any content he desired. Snyder’s Dawn, however, was produced with a sizable budget for a horror movie and intended for box office success. Addressing a sensitive issue like abortion could have hurt its prospects for making money.
Still, the resolution to Luda’s pregnancy leads to a scene perhaps more shocking than any in the 1978 film. Her zombification and the grotesque creature she births perfectly models the abject mother Barbara Creed describes in her essay “Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine: An Imaginary Abjection.” She notes that it is “the gestating, all-devouring womb of the archaic mother that generates the horror.” (Creed 56) This distinction is important, since the film’s childless female characters are not demonized. Even before giving birth, Luda is tied to a bed in a similar manner to Regan in The Exorcist (William Friedkin, 1973). Though a zombie bite transforms her into a monster, Luda’s pregnancy is the true source of terror. This speaks to a change in approach to family and motherhood since 1978. A transition away from total glorification of the nuclear family had begun by the time of the original Dawn’s release, but this 1950s ideal still had a strong presence in public consciousness. By 2004, young men were starting to regard an unwanted baby as the worst possible consequence of a relationship. A child is no longer a blessing which provides some modicum of hope for the future, as in the original Dawn, but a curse which transforms its mother into something less than human.
A zombified Luda personifying the abject mother. (Screenshot from Dawn of the Dead, 2004)
White men are also characterized differently in the remake. Shaviro observes that both featured in the original “die as a result of their adolescent need to indulge in macho games or to play the hero.” (88) The two prominent white male leads in Snyder’s Dawn suffer a similar fate, but their deaths are portrayed as heroic and noble. Michael, Ana’s love interest, always has a plan and is the first to volunteer for any dangerous mission that must be undertaken. He survives many close calls, but is eventually bitten while pulling Ana away from an undead horde. Rather than forcing his friends to watch the disease slowly consume him, as Roger did in the original, Michael chooses to shoot himself, displaying an impressive level of strength. C.J., the mall’s head security guard, begins the film with a similar attitude to Harry in Night of the Living Dead (George A. Romero, 1968). In an effort to master his fear, he attempts to maintain control of everyone in his territory, coming across as selfish, arrogant, and short-sighted in the process. After the illusion of power is wrested away from C.J. by the film’s other characters, he reveals himself to be one of the most skilled, level headed, and selfless members of the group when placed under pressure. He willingly sacrifices himself so the others can escape, killing dozens of zombies in an explosion which also ends his life. This shift in perception is due to the lessening of the white patriarchy’s control over American society. In 1978, women and African Americans were more marginalized than today, especially in film. Romero defied convention by elevating the characters Peter and Francine while casting white men in an unfavorable light. Though equality has still not been achieved, by 2004 disparaging the white patriarchy was no longer a priority. In the contemporary apocalypse, all races and genders stand on equal footing.
Snyder’s Dawn succeeds as a remake because it manages to balance the old and new. It does not forget its roots, maintaining simplified and updated versions of the original’s social commentary. Three actors from the 1978 film even make cameos on the mall’s television screens. Ken Foree’s is perhaps the most significant, as he recites his classic line: “When there’s no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth.” However, the reimagining does not try to replicate the original. Instead, it concocts a new, more terrifying vision of a zombie apocalypse bound to give audiences nightmares for years to come.
Works Cited
Dawn of the Dead. Dir. George A. Romero. United Film Distribution Company, 1978.
Dawn of the Dead. Dir. Zack Snyder. Universal Pictures, 2004.
The Exorcist. Dir. William Friedkin. Warner Bros., 1973.
Night of the Living Dead. Dir. George A. Romero. The Walter Reade Organization, 1968.
Creed, Barbara. “Horror and the Monstrous-Feminine: An Imaginary Abjection.” The Dread of
Difference: Gender and the Horror Film, edited by Barry Keith Grant, University of
Texas Press, 1996, pp. 35-63.
Shaviro, Steven. The Cinematic Body. Theory Out of Bounds, vol. 2, University of Minnesota
Press, 1993.
Word Count: 1,902
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