If you're reading this review, you probably already know the general plot: an unexplained plague has created incredibly fast, strong, rabidly hungry flesh-eating zombies. The few human survivors take refuge in a shopping mall.
Rather that describe the movie, let me tell you how it affected me, because the true test of cinema is if it made an emotional impact on you. Keep in mind that movie makers have an almost impossible task. Nowadays, we're all jaded movie goers. Seeing realistic dinosaurs, or spaceships hurtling through space often elicit yawns, not wide-eyed amazement.
I saw Dawn of the Dead at a 10:30pm show on a Sunday night. When I left the theatre, it was pitch black, and my heart was pounding in my chest. Even though I am a very rational person, I couldn't overcome an overwhelming sense of fear. Just like a little kid who sees his first monster movie, I was scared and deeply affected.
When I opened my car, I made sure that no one was hiding in the back seat (yes, that is ridiculous, but is shows what an astoundingly strong impression the movie had on me). I drove home in complete silence. I kept the radio off, and I drove through the blackness and the empty streets common after midnight on a Sunday in suburbia.
I drove quietly down the same street I had been 10,000 times before, but very oddly, there was a police car sitting next to a cul-de-sac. In 30 years of driving, I had never seen a police car there. The lights were off, so I couldn't discern anything in the blackness. The first thought that went through my head was whether the policman inside was still alive, or already a zombie. Perhaps his partner was already feasting on his corpse. (What am I thinking??!! This is ridiculous. Get that movie out of your head. Pay attention to the road and just get home.)
When I arrived home, it actually occurred to me that if I used the garage door opener, I would alert any zombies in the area that living people are in the house (mental note to self: stop! This is ridiculous. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie.) When I closed the door behind me, I made sure no one slipped in at the last moment. I walked carefully to the dark, unlit landing and........ pow!!!! A light bulb met a noisy, flashbulb type death as it burnt out. That scared the hell out of me, as if my heart weren't racing enough.
As I walked through the kitchen, it occurred to me how vulnerable the house would be to a zombie attack. Too many windows. (another mental note: stop! Pull yourself together. It's just a movie) I closed my bedroom door, and did something I had never done in all the years I lived there: I locked it.
If a movie can have this kind of effect on a normally unflappable adult, there is no question the movie accomplished what it set out to do: it scared the hell out of the audience.
Note: Dawn of the Dead must be seen in a theatre to get the full experience. On TV, it's like watering down a beer. On TV, (even a nice big 50" plasma, all the doomsday visuals that previously astounded me seemed not only less impressive just whizzed right past me. In particular, the scene where they have retro-fitted a bus to make an escape. In the theatre, that scene looked like something out of Armageddon. It was awe-inspiring and awesome, rolled into one. On TV, the scene appeared to just race by me.
Rather that describe the movie, let me tell you how it affected me, because the true test of cinema is if it made an emotional impact on you. Keep in mind that movie makers have an almost impossible task. Nowadays, we're all jaded movie goers. Seeing realistic dinosaurs, or spaceships hurtling through space often elicit yawns, not wide-eyed amazement.
I saw Dawn of the Dead at a 10:30pm show on a Sunday night. When I left the theatre, it was pitch black, and my heart was pounding in my chest. Even though I am a very rational person, I couldn't overcome an overwhelming sense of fear. Just like a little kid who sees his first monster movie, I was scared and deeply affected.
When I opened my car, I made sure that no one was hiding in the back seat (yes, that is ridiculous, but is shows what an astoundingly strong impression the movie had on me). I drove home in complete silence. I kept the radio off, and I drove through the blackness and the empty streets common after midnight on a Sunday in suburbia.
I drove quietly down the same street I had been 10,000 times before, but very oddly, there was a police car sitting next to a cul-de-sac. In 30 years of driving, I had never seen a police car there. The lights were off, so I couldn't discern anything in the blackness. The first thought that went through my head was whether the policman inside was still alive, or already a zombie. Perhaps his partner was already feasting on his corpse. (What am I thinking??!! This is ridiculous. Get that movie out of your head. Pay attention to the road and just get home.)
When I arrived home, it actually occurred to me that if I used the garage door opener, I would alert any zombies in the area that living people are in the house (mental note to self: stop! This is ridiculous. It's just a movie. It's just a movie. It's just a movie.) When I closed the door behind me, I made sure no one slipped in at the last moment. I walked carefully to the dark, unlit landing and........ pow!!!! A light bulb met a noisy, flashbulb type death as it burnt out. That scared the hell out of me, as if my heart weren't racing enough.
As I walked through the kitchen, it occurred to me how vulnerable the house would be to a zombie attack. Too many windows. (another mental note: stop! Pull yourself together. It's just a movie) I closed my bedroom door, and did something I had never done in all the years I lived there: I locked it.
If a movie can have this kind of effect on a normally unflappable adult, there is no question the movie accomplished what it set out to do: it scared the hell out of the audience.
Note: Dawn of the Dead must be seen in a theatre to get the full experience. On TV, it's like watering down a beer. On TV, (even a nice big 50" plasma, all the doomsday visuals that previously astounded me seemed not only less impressive just whizzed right past me. In particular, the scene where they have retro-fitted a bus to make an escape. In the theatre, that scene looked like something out of Armageddon. It was awe-inspiring and awesome, rolled into one. On TV, the scene appeared to just race by me.