The Last Testament of George A. Romero

Prof. Tony Williams (Southern Illinois University)

Foreword and transcription by Andrea Gelardi

In July 2016 George A. Romero died, leaving us with a vital legacy. Despite the large number of imitators of his work, Romero remains unmatched in his capacity to represent the political anxieties of the century through its film productions. In particular, operating as a continuous metaphor of the present, Romero’s depictions of the post-apocalyptic world have been able to mirror the transformations happening not only in the US society but also in the global one. The zombies, in Romero’s cinematic visions, trigger all the paradoxical limitations of the burgeoning neoliberalism, acting as a pure manifestation of underrepresented social groups. Unintelligible and misunderstood, violent and objects of violence, famished and disorganised, the masses of the undead throw into crisis the core elements of contemporary society as it is the case in the family from Night of the Living Dead (1968), the consumerism in Dawn of the Dead (1978) or the militarism in Day of the Dead (1985).

A photo of George R. Romero, wearing heavy glasses and lit from behind.

In the early 2018, the Institute for Global Cinema and Creative Culture devoted a day to remembering the work of George A. Romero, seeking to shed light on the complex work of this North American director who has influenced generations of cinephiles and filmmakers. In this commemoration, Professor Tony Williams from Southern Illinois University has contributed to our event with a vibrant exploration of an overlooked aspect of Romero’s legacy: comic editing. Author of The Cinema of George A. Romero: Knight of the Living Dead (2003) and George A. Romero: Interviews (2003), Professor Williams has released this audio recording that undertakes an intertextual reading of the cinematic and comic productions of George Romero, thus highlighting the coherence and development of his politic and creative vision through different media.

We want to thank Professor Williams for having enriched our commemoration with this insightful piece that we have decided to share with our readers. With this, we hope to pay a little homage to an artist who has made horror more than a genre, but a key to represent and interpret our shared historical present.

[Transcription]

“The last testament of George A. Romero.

Colleagues, please excuse any deficiencies in this transmission since it is the first time I have attempted such a method. Neither did I think, when I first reviewed René Clair’s And There Were None [1945] nor the first episode of the 1959 ITC [Incorporated Television Company Entertainment] series The Four Just Men, that I would be using a different form delivery other than Mr Erns’ recording of the posthumous tape message left by colonel Bacon, played by the same actor who remains in our minds as Colonel Breen of the BBC TV series Quartermass and the Pit [1959]. But accustomed as I am to direct conference presentations, I will embrace this new technological delivery to end, as seemingly redundant introduction that also anticipates the main theme of this presentation: the continuance of a past legacy by means of new technology.

When I interviewed George by phone several years ago, for George A. Romero: Interviews published in 2011, he stated his desire to continue the stories of secondary characters in Diary of the Dead [2007] such as Serge, the African-American revolutionaries and the Southern girl who escapes from the mansion at the end. Unfortunately, he was only able to develop a new narrative involving the first character in Survival of the Dead [2009]. Whether any screenplay exists for the others remains to be seen. And if they do, maybe they could appear on a website, following Larry Cohen’s previous practice of revealing some of his un-filmed screenplays, until the making of King Cohen [King Cohen: The Wild World of Filmmaker Larry Cohen, 2017] last year, resulted in new interest in both his stature and significant work.

A photo of George R. Romero laughing. He is wearing an insulated vest.

During 2014 and 2015, George returned to the comic book or graphic novel, influence of those EC Comics [Entertainment Comics] that played a major role in his future visual development as a director, of which Creep Show is just one example, to continue developing other themes, as occurred in his cinematic zombie productions, without the interference of a major studio, as occurred in Land of the Dead [2005], or the limitations of budget. Like Mike Hodges, who turned to literature to explore further the satirical aspects of black humour in his 1972 film Pulp, in his 2010 novel Watching the Wheels Come Off and his future privately funded trilogy of three noir novellas Bait, Grist and Security, George explored new forms to develop his vision – in as much the same way as Orson Welles turned to low budget, independent films – to escape the cost and controls of studio filmmaking.

Although George is certainly no longer with us, his vision continues in a different form of artistic technology, that two graphic novels demonstrate. Hopefully, The Living Dead novel (that will be completed by another writer) will also reveal a continuity of his cinematic vision in a new form. The 2014 DC comic edition of Toe Tags and the Marvel Comics edition of Empire of the Dead, 2015, continue George’s creative interest in a new, but also familiar way. Certainly, gore is present in the films, since he felt obligated to his fans in a certain way, but like all creative artists he transcended the form to arrive at a completely different content and message, unlike his lesser competitors.

A drawing of person in black firing a gun at a horde of zombies. The zombies are in the foreground.
Toe Tags, Cover of the Volume I (2014) – DC comics

Toe Tags is a modest production, but it combines past and future developments of Romero’s familiar concerns. This different form of approach allows him to employ the authorship role of a distinctive narrator, paralleling the role of that indispensable screenwriter documented by Richard Corliss in Talking Pictures and Patrick McGilligan in his back story collections, in collaboration with cooperative and sympathetic talents to provide a creative contribution to a familiar form. It is not coincidental with Mike Hodges compared Security to work on the film set, usually guaranteed to produce a barren type of human behaviour, to see how any directors prefer to work with those he knows and trusts. With his graphic novels, Romero is working with a different form of artists for the first time, but at once sympathetic to his vision and collaborative with him to realise it. This time, graphic talents of Tommy Castillo and Rodney Ramos complement the cinematic collaborative roles of producer Peter Grunwald and cinematographer Adam Swica on George’s last two films.

This new direction also allows George to develop the character of the zombie in the manner began by Bob in the Day of the Dead [1985] and Big Daddy in the Land of the Dead in new and distinctive ways, far transcending the scary monster stereotype seen in the mediocre versions of his imitators. In Toe Tags, alongside the zombies, who operate according to their instinctual memories, as recognised by Peter in Dawn of the Dead [1978], appear a new hero and heroine who continue progressive traditions within Romero’s work, involving characters who adapt and change to new circumstances rather than cling hopelessly to pass behaviour patterns like the zombies surrounding them.

Alongside former fashion designer Julie, who becomes an independent and resilient heroine, is Damien. Once a human being, he is now a partial zombie, after returning a zoo and releasing all the caged animals to give them a fighting chance of survival. Among them, there is the elephant Mr Tembo, who may be a possible reference to Mama Temba in Howard Hawks’ Hatari [1962] that belongs to that director’s group of professional films influencing Knightriders [1981]. Damien is often depicted riding the elephant in the manner evoking Tarzan of the Apes, a reference that Steven Bisset of the University of Vermont Centre for Cartoon Studies recently confirmed.

Two panels from a comic. In the first, a pair observe a zombie sweeping the sidewalk. The man says, "This stinker is smarter than average," to which the woman responds, "Because he's sweeping the sidewalk? Remembered behavior. Now if he was playing chess..." In the second panel, the zombie is in the foreground and the humans are in the background. The man says "Zombies can't play chess," and the woman responds, "There might be one out there who can. That's the one I'm looking for."
Empire of the Dead (2015) – Marvel

Damien’s human mind has survived in the deteriorating body of a zombie, thanks to the intervention of Doctor Hoffman, who is the more humane version of the scientist figure from The Day of the Dead. Not only does his name evoke one of Romero’s favourite films [The Tales of Hoffman (Michael Powell and Erich Pressburger, 1951)], but his appearance more than coincidently resembles that of Albert Einstein, who is both a humanitarian and a scientist. As result of Hoffman’s medication, Damien is a different type of zombie, one who can discern right from wrong. Before he dies, Hoffman makes Damien promise to continue his scientific research to find a serum that will tell the difference between good and evil men.

Romero’s humour still remains in Toe Tags. The rosebud silver mine is an obvious reference to Orson Welles’ first Hollywood film as well as the appearance of Welles’ theatrical scholar, Richard France, in three of the director’s films: There’s Always Vanilla [1971], The Crazies [1973] and Dawn of the Dead as well as Amberson University, in one of the otherwise forgettable episodes of Tales from the Darkside [1984-1988]. This shows that the influence was far from accidental. If Jonson Rosenbaum affirms that Welles was really an independent film director who just happened to work in Hollywood, Romero was also another unique creative independent in his own right, who just happened to become stereotypically associated with scary zombie movies.

The malevolent role of corporate America is never far from his films. Damien and Julie recognise the manipulative aims of the new establishment: “Out of control zombies, in a way, living people have been controlled from the beginning of time”. Executives’ wish to acquire Hoffman’s formula, that could be cheaply produced and disseminated, to sell to the highest bidder or used for themselves, a telling critique of the American medical industry. Significantly, the surname of four executives are Mr. Rice, Ms. Bush, Mr. Cheney and Mr. Powell. The presidential position is now occupied by a business man, anticipating the rise of the current occupant of the Oval Office who has “the memory and the executive skills”, but who has also bankrupted a multimillion dollar corporation known as Enthrone. His ambition now extends far beyond the White House to becoming emperor of the world.

Zombie Attila leads a marauding band of humans and zombies in search of food, aided by a spy in their midst, significantly named Rasputin, perhaps a reference to agent provocateur Father Gapon, who played a role in 1905 Winter Palace massacre. Yet Romero recognises a possible potential alternative in the zombies, as Damien states later: “being dead doesn’t make me a bad person”. Like Fran [Francine Parker] in Dawn [Dawn of the Dead] who searches for independence and demands a quality with the surviving male group, Julie tells rescued young mercenary Billy that she is not going to be his waitress from now on and rebuts his sexist language. As in Day [Day of the Dead] and Diary [Diary of the Dead] the critique of the military mind set is not too far away, as well as recognising that not all of Attila’s followers are bad but “pour souls who don’t know how to make things better for themselves”. Evil CEO Rice recognises that Rasputin does not merely want his own Rospero version of a secure piece of the pie like Cthulhu in Land but wishes to become his replacement in this new world order.

The narrative moves towards its resolution in the Niagara Falls underground hiding place of our government’s headquarters, but like Romero’s films the struggle will continue. Damien and Julie ride off of Tembo’s back, leading a mixed group of freed animals and zombies. Some humans like Billy in this group have already joined them, suggesting the possibility of collaboration in some distant future, but they do not appear in his final image. Like Peter and Fran in Dawn and those other survivors in Romero’s films, they move towards an uncertain future in which any form of security and enclosure appear impossible. Julie asks “Where are we going?”, Damien replies “Your guess is good as mine”.

And at this point, I have to sign off because I have gone beyond my five minutes and don’t really have time to deal with Empire of the Dead, which I regard as Romero’s cinematic version of the graphic novel or TV mini-series and, of course, having reference to the vampire legend as well as developing his progressive take on the zombie films. I would recommend you all to read these two comic books which are really Romero’s last testament by which he continues the legacy he was not able to film.

Thank you very much.”