If zombies tried to pull an outbreak on us these days, those things would be screwed. We're exposed to so many zombie movies these days your 5-year-old knows where to shoot them. People in the movies have to pretend like they live in a world that's never heard of zombies or else the moment they saw a pale guy demanding brains everyone would bust out the katanas and chainmail scarves and your flick would be over right there.
It wasn't always this way. For a long time, zombies were nothing to be afraid of unless you were a mine worker, in which case you rightfully feared their voodoo masters would replace you with tireless slaves who don't need food, just an island drumbeat. Then came 1968's Night of the Living Dead.
The zombies come without warning or explanation. Duane Jones finds himself trapped in a dead woman's house with several strangers, limited supplies, and a growing crowd of undead just past the windows.
It won't be news to some that Night of the Living Dead is awesome. Problem is, it's a bona fide classic, and in the words of someone I'm too lazy to look up (but is probably Mark Twain, because he said everything like this), that means it's something everyone talks about and never actually sees.
I didn't for a long time because I thought Night was silly B-horror cheese. It is a little dated: pacing wasn't invented until the early '70s, and things slow down near the middle.
In every other way, it's gold. Defying the horror standard where nothing fun happens for the first half hour, the first zombie's onscreen within seven minutes. Instead of blowing a third of the movie showing what Jones and the rest were like before flesh-monsters came after their livers, we get to know the characters through how they handle the disaster.
That's where director George A. Romero's brilliance shines. With no clue what they're up against, nothing on their side but their wits, some confused broadcasts, and enough lumber to assemble a pirate armada, we're there in the moment with the survivors, creating a claustrophobic dread that persists to the chaotic, gut-munching climax. It may be in black and white, but you can almost taste the intestines. Turns out they ate a lot of roasts in those days.
Just about every rule of modern zombiedom was invented here--how they act, how you kill them, how they turn you into one of them--making Night of the Living Dead the father of an entire genre. Incredibly, it's still up there with the best to come out since.
