“UPGRADED GHOULS”

By Raymond Benson

For a film that’s been in public domain for decades and is available on dozens of different poor-quality DVD labels and free to download from Internet, it’s somewhat surprising that The Criterion Collection would pull out the stops to offer an undoubtedly pricier option to own the movie with this lavish 2-disk extravaganza of gore. (There is a precedent, however—Criterion did the same thing with the out-of-copyright Carnival of Souls.)

Don’t get me wrong… this is a very welcome roll-out. What’s unique about Criterion’s excellent package is that it features a new 4K digital restoration of the original theatrical release (not the previously go-to “30^th Anniversary Edition” released years ago and that had been recut a little), and it’s supervised by co-screenwriter John A. Russo, sound engineer Gary R. Streiner, and producer Russell W. Streiner (sadly, director George Romero is no longer with us, or there’s no doubt he would have been involved). There’s also a new restoration of the monaural soundtrack, that was supervised by Romero, and Gary Streiner, and presented uncompressed. There are also two separate audio commentaries from 1994 featuring Romero, Russo, actor Judith O’Dea, and others.

What this means is that you’ll be viewing the most pristine, best-sounding, razor-sharp edition of Night of the Living Dead that you’ve ever seen.

If you don’t know the film, where have you been? It’s one of the most iconic low-budget, independently-produced horror films ever made. The shoestring budget was $114,000, and Romero utilized unknown stage actors, as well as extras from nearby Evans City, Pennsylvania, where the exteriors were shot. It basically kick-started the “walking dead” genre, although that term and the word “zombie” is never used in the movie. They’re referred to as “ghouls.”

For 1968, the picture was ground-breaking, daring, and controversial. Many critics trashed it for being too gory, even though it’s in black-and-white. Some countries banned it. Released just prior to when the MPAA ratings were unveiled in the USA, it was exhibited unadulterated to kids at a Saturday matinee—which most likely provided a lifelong set of nightmares for these poor individuals. After the ratings were instituted, the film was rated “X” for some time, until eventually this was downgraded to “R.”

Another envelope-pushing aspect was the casting of African-American Duane Jones as the lead. This was unheard-of in those days unless it was a Sidney Poitier Hollywood movie. This gave the film a not-so-subtle subtext about racism, since Jones is battling all-white ghouls as well as his all-white fellow survivors trapped in an abandoned house. Romero always said he didn’t intend it that way—he cast Jones simply because he “gave the best audition.”

The story is simple—due to radioactive fallout from a satellite that exploded in space, the dead are rising and feasting on the living. It’s a national emergency. A small group of very frightened and often irrational men and women, and one young teenaged girl, are holed-up in a farmhouse while the ghouls spend the run-time of the movie trying to get at them.

And, yes, it’s scary, suspenseful, and contains many scenes daring you not to turn your head away.

Criterion’s release contains a treasure trove of supplements. The crown jewel of these is the early 16mm work print edit of the film, originally titled Night of Anubis. There are several new features, including interviews with directors Guillermo Del Toro, Robert Rodriguez, and Frank Darabont about the movie, of John Russo discussing the genesis of the picture at the industrial film company where the filmmakers were working, and pieces with Gary Streiner and Russell Streiner. Particularly interesting are the new interviews with some the ghoul-extras as they are today, a piece on the film’s style, and—particularly instructional for film students—a documentary on how Romero and team turned low-budget inadequacies into assets. There are archival interviews with Romero and actor Judith O’Dea, and others. An audio interview with the late Duane Jones is exceptionally poignant and enlightening. Then there are the trailers, the radio spots, the TV spots, and an essay in the booklet by critic Stuart Klawans.

Once again, The Criterion Collection has rolled out a red carpet, this time for living dead people, and the results are outstanding. Highly recommended.

CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON