Editorials
George Romero’s Underrated ‘Diary of the Dead’ Offers a Relevant Message for These Troubling Times
When Gil Scott-Heron claimed that the revolution would not be televised, I don’t think he was referring to the dystopic future of 2021, but he wasn’t that far off. What was once considered “emerging media” has taken over the world, with live-tweeting and amateur phone footage mostly replacing newspapers and television crews. While this change may have been gradual, there was one filmmaker who lived through the evolution of modern media and felt this cultural shift coming. George A. Romero may be remembered as the father of the modern zombie flick, but he was also an auteur who didn’t mind reinventing himself in order to keep his stories relevant. That’s why I’d like to talk about one of his most underrated movies, the eerily prescient Found-Footage film, Diary of the Dead.
For those who haven’t seen it, the story follows an ensemble of film students as they document a zombie outbreak, exploring how survivors might share and react to information when society begins to crumble. Once these young filmmakers embark on an ill-fated road trip, their impromptu documentary slowly reveals less about the zombies and more about the ugly side of human nature, making for a classic Romero picture with copious amounts blood, guts and post-9/11 allegory. Of course, in order to really appreciate what Romero was going for with Diary of the Dead, we have to look back at the context surrounding this odd little production.
The original Dead trilogy received a satisfying conclusion back in the 80s with Day of the Dead, but the socio-political turmoil of the Bush era ultimately convinced Romero that he had more to say within the Zombie genre. This resulted in a comeback with 2005’s tremendously entertaining post-apocalyptic parable, Land of the Dead. Unfortunately, the production of this undead epic was a terrible experience for the director, as he was forced to deal with studio meddling and a series of personal problems behind the scenes. While I think the final product stands alongside the original trilogy as an iconic piece of horror fiction, it’s no surprise that Romero decided to tone things down a bit in his next project. So, in 2007, George returned to the low-budget guerrilla filmmaking that earned him his stardom, but for different reasons.
While the cultural landscape surrounding Diary of the Dead could not have been any more different than Night of the Living Dead‘s swinging 60s, both movies share a rebellious spirit informed by Romero’s own fears. By the mid-2000s, it was obvious that media as a whole was changing, and so was our way of consuming it. Communication empires were starting to fracture under their own weight and online social bubbles were rapidly expanding. In this chaotic environment, Romero figured that it was up to common folk to rise up and help untangle what he called a “media octopus”. And who better to fight for the truth than a rag-tag band of naïve film students?
“Just keep filming!”
Of course, Romero was also influenced by the rise of YouTube, one of the most revolutionary media platforms of all time. Corporate interests and greedy algorithms may have put a dent in its reputation, but the site was originally envisioned as a place where regular people could share their point of view without fear of corporate oversight. It’s no wonder that YouTube was once regarded as a beacon of free expression, but it was also a hub for all sorts of viral horror content, usually presented as real-life Found Footage. Naturally, these ideas bled over into Diary‘s portrayal of an online media-frenzy.
At the time, Found-Footage had yet to be re-popularized by the Paranormal Activity franchise, but it wasn’t exactly an obscure style of filmmaking. After The Blair Witch Project, the sub-genre was usually adopted by up-and-coming filmmakers as a way of breaking into the business without going bankrupt. Obviously, this wasn’t the case with Romero, as this Master of Horror deliberately chose to make a Found-Footage project because he realized the format’s potential for telling intimate and timely stories.
While themes of media censorship and the ineffective government response provide a terrifying and realistic backdrop for this re-imagined undead uprising, Romero’s choice of telling the story through the lens of amateur filmmakers also adds another level of commentary to the picture. The characters’ insistence on completing The Death of Death (the film within the film) makes for a compelling case of “the medium is the message”, and their obsession with documenting their survival wouldn’t be out of place in today’s social media landscape. In fact, the movie feels even creepier now that we live in an age when we’re more likely to hear about international tragedies through an Instagram post than a special news bulletin.
Despite this novel approach, Diary still benefits from the same charms as Romero’s traditional zombie flicks. Moments like the tragic discovery of Debra’s family or the Professor’s nihilistic musings on the future of humanity echo some of the best aspects of the director’s previous work. That’s not even mentioning the appropriately ominous finale, which concludes the film on a grim viral video. After all, zombies can be stopped with a simple bullet to the brain, but there’s no cure for human nature.
“Now it’s us against them, except they’re us.”
Unfortunately, Diary of the Dead succumbs to some classic Found Footage pitfalls that keep it from becoming a modern classic. From convenient camera angles to questionable CGI, plus a couple of overly theatrical moments, the movie has its fair share of flaws, but I still think it works as a visceral zombie flick. Personally, the simple fact that a filmmaking legend is trying his hand at a new and incredibly difficult form of storytelling more than makes up for some stilted dialogue and computer-generated blood splatters.
Romero actually described his experience with Found-Footage like “coming home”, saying that he enjoyed the possibility of unscripted surprises and down-to-earth storytelling. In behind-the-scenes featurettes, the director actually claimed that there’s more planning involved in setting up a convincing Found Footage shot than a traditional one, and he explains that he preferred to cast stage actors in order to facilitate longer and more complex scenes. At the end of the day, it’s quite clear that he had fun playing around with this new format while commenting on the future of emerging media. It’s a real shame that he didn’t get the chance to perfect his technique with more Found-Footage projects, though I’m still grateful for what we got.
Even then, most of Diary‘s flaws are justified by the premise. The entire movie is meant to have been cobbled together by a handful of amateur film students, so some of the pretentious narration and wonky pacing actually contribute to the realistic tone. There’s also a surprising amount of humor in this mostly nihilistic picture, from playful jabs at running zombies to dynamite-wielding Amish folk. Horror fans are also likely to appreciate the numerous voice cameos from other masters of the craft like Guillermo Del Toro, Stephen King, Tom Savini, Wes Craven and even Quentin Tarantino.
Diary of the Dead is far from Romero’s greatest work, but it’s still worth watching after all these years. The subtext is still on point, the zombies are still scary and there’s no beating that chilling apocalyptic atmosphere. So, whether you’re a zombie enthusiast, Found Footage fan or just a casual horror hound up for some socially conscious thrills, I wholeheartedly recommend digging this one up. The revolution may not be televised, but if the late, great George A. Romero is to be believed, it might just show up online. And I think that’s a relevant message for these troubling times.
College kids, strippers and vampires—those were Donald P. Borchers’ only requirements when he approached Richard Wenk about writing and directing a movie for New World Pictures. As requested, Wenk cooked up Vamp (1986), a tailor-made blend of the decade’s teen movie craze as well as its horror boom.
Grim and earnest stories were still very much a part of the ’80s horror landscape, yet Vamp is something of a comedy. One difference between it and, say, Saturday the 14th, though, is the former avoids using schtick. Wenk’s movie proves that horror comedies also don’t have to subtract thrills from their recipes. Of course, it takes a minute before reaching that point; college antics and culture shocks preface this one macabre misadventure.
Vamp‘s initial setup is apt for a typical college-set, sex-driven comedy; to bribe their way into a fraternity house, two pledges (Chris Makepeace, Robert Rusler) go looking for some adult entertainment. Without wasting time on any further exposition, the characters embark on an all-in-one-night trip that quickly detours into terror.
To procure their elusive MacGuffin—a stripper willing to gyrate for some frat boys—Keith (Makepeace) and AJ (Rusler), plus a third wheel named Duncan (Gedee Watanabe), trade the safety of their remote college campus for the seediness of some unnamed city. The setting is recognizably L.A. by day, but as soon as night falls, downtown, along with the characters, slips into a kind of surreal universe. Director of photography Elliot Davis gave this early entry on his prolific résumé an unusual yet distinctive look; that Mario Bava-esque, magenta-green lighting is omnipresent, so much so that it’s almost its own character.
Chris Makepeace and Robert Rusler in Vamp
The faint comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s After Hours are merited, although not just because of Vamp’s distinguishing nighttime aesthetic. Save for the primary characters, the supporting roles in Wenk’s movie are also quite colorful and transactional in their behavior. The difference here, though, is the additional urge to ruin Keith and his friends at every turn. Some of that harm is humorous and tolerable enough, whereas the moment Vamp dishes out its first fatality, it’s abundantly clear how this movie qualifies as horror.
Vamp falls into that category of horror movie that reveals its genre with a scream rather than a series of whispers. The opening scene can function as a hint of what lies ahead—things are not at all what they appear to be—but otherwise, Wenk is more than happy to hold off on the horror. When that time does come, though, it catches the viewer off guard. In addition to the pure shock value is that sudden decision to upend the movie’s foremost feature. Or so it would seem.
If afraid of major spoilage, those new to Vamp would be wise to stop reading here. There’s just no skirting around the fact that the central fellowship in this buddy movie hits a serious snag when AJ is killed. That development causes the story to become more of a “long, bad night” journey for Keith and his romantic interest. So while Wenk scores points for subverting expectations, there is also a touch of sadness in his decision. Because if Vamp does anything well, it’s making the characters likable.
Something that comes easily to Vamp—and other teen horror movies from this same era—is its ability to invent young characters worth caring about, or at the very least, are interesting and not so immediately off-putting. More impressive is how Wenk did all this without actually fleshing out those characters. Still and all, Keith and his kind are a grade above cookie-cutter, and in some cases, aren’t completely devoid of growth.
Grace Jones in Vamp
Vamp appeals with an assorted cast of characters. No two are the same, nor are they operating on the same wavelength. The cinematically extroverted AJ, whose actor conveyed charm and vulnerability in near equal amounts, comes alive when he’s at his most undead. Makepeace then makes the chronically cautious Keith a sympathetic fellow, even as he’s more and more affected by the night’s bizarre events. Meanwhile, Duncan is indeed the designated loser of the whole bunch, but Watanabe still manages to humanize him. As a bonus, the role didn’t require him to pull a Long Duk Dong.
As for Dedee Pfeiffer, she is plain adorable as the mysterious After Dark server nicknamed “Amaretto”. She spends all night fixing her dress strap while at the same time trying to get Keith to remember how he knows her. As their offbeat romance grows, it becomes another highlight of this movie. Whether or not Pfeiffer’s character is really a vampire also creates some welcome tension in the story.
Like a lot of its contemporaries, Vamp went on to become a bit of a cult classic. That current status is determined by several factors, but without a doubt, the casting of Grace Jones is the most considerable. The image of her writhing on that unique-looking chair, a Keith Haring original, springs to mind whenever this movie is brought up.
Chris Makepeace, Billy Drago and Paunita Nichols in Vamp
Prior to that first display of unequivocal horror, local vampire queen Katrina (Jones) took to the stage and delivered a strip show like no other. One would expect nothing less from that renowned model and performance artist. By now reports of Jones’ tardiness on set are no secret, yet it’s also hard to deny her commitment to the part of Katrina. It was, in fact, Jones who took charge of her character’s appearance—on top of Haring painting her body and that now-iconic chair, she had Andy Warhol handle her costuming. And not too many actors could seize a room’s attention without saying a single line of dialogue.
In 2022, Vamp received a retrospective novelization from Encyclopocalypse. This literary union of preexisting source material—Wenk’s original screenplay—and new ideas from author Christian Francis amounts to a more comprehensive visit to the After Dark Club. The basic story there is no different than what’s shown on screen; however, Francis gets creative with the characters’ origins and designs, and he enhances a number of key scenes.
The novelization expands on the urban and social decay of the main setting, and supplies a background for the After Dark Club. Sandy Baron’s character, Katrina’s emcee and familiar, is given ample motivation for sticking around; up until the fiery end, he is loyal to his friend and former business partner “Squeak”, who looks like he was “fed through a combine harvester, and left as nothing more than a heap of mangled remains”. Then there is Billy Drago’s character Snow, the leader of a street gang called The Dragons. His reason for menacing Keith and AJ is more altruistic than in the movie; he and his peers act tough to scare off any potential food for the vampires.
Lisa Lyon in Vamp
If not for all the backstories, Francis’ Vamp would be a hell of a lot shorter. Instead, this tie-in read dives into how AJ met Keith—the orphaned Anthony Joseph hailed from a broken home back in Brooklyn—and how their friendship flourished over the years. Keith’s archership is no longer just an assumed part of his entire being; it’s a confidence-building extracurricular for a boy who got picked on before coming into the protection of the new kid in town. These supplemental, in-depth looks at the protagonists, plus their close connection, are maybe unnecessary. The movie already did a fair and concise job of addressing their platonic intimacy without the need for flashbacks and insights, specifically in that scene where AJ lays it all out as he sacrifices himself.
Where the novelization gets off course is its approach to the minor characters. Intermittently backstorying the likes of Katrina’s indentured servants, Seko (Leila Hee Olsen) and Vlad (Brad Logan), ends up disturbing the flow of the writing. Was it absolutely essential that readers know Vlad was the Grand Duke of the House of Romanov, or how Snow’s accomplice Maven (Paunita Nichols) became so dentally challenged? No, not really. However, one’s mileage with these random biographies may vary.
The novelization is a more substantial experience, but for a movie like Vamp, less is more. And as plentiful as they are, it never simply coasts on its campy charms, either. The character work sits comfortably in that realm between cursory and meticulous, the script is sharper than first realized, and Greg Cannom’s vampire makeup is straightforward yet effective. Most of all, the movie didn’t squander its out-of-the-box concept. Richard Wenk made his vision of a “comic nightmare in which just about anything that can go wrong does” come true, and it is very enjoyable.
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