The Return of the Living Dead (

1985

)

The humble cinematic zombie that we all know and love, the shambling brain-eating corpse animated by a strange disease or chemical weapon did not exist sixty years ago. Sure, there have been zombies in films since the 1930s with White Zombie (1932) and folklore tales of walking dead for centuries before. However, these were always a bit different from the zombies we’re used to. Usually they were mere minions, dead bodies animated by the black magic of a necromancer of voodoo priest. Despite the name of such films as White Zombie (1932), Revolt of the Zombies (1936), and King of the Zombies (1941), the main antagonist was almost always the one who created the creatures not the zombies themselves. Nearly all of the modern conventions of the zombie film come to us by way of George Romero’s classic Night of the Living Dead (1968), with its two sequels Dawn of the Dead (1978) and Day of the Dead (1985) along with several dozen knock-offs and copy-cats (some like Zombi 2 (1979) pretending to be direct sequels to Romero’s work) would crystalize zombie mythology into the form we know today.

Yet, even after Night of the Living Dead (1968) one key element of the zombie mythos remained missing: They didn’t crave human brains specifically. Sure, the zombies of Romero’s movies were always cannibals, and presumably they would eat human brains along with everything else but they had no particular interest in Long Pig Sweetbreads. Indeed, in the numerous cannibalism scenes in Dawn of the Dead (1978) the zombies are almost always eating intestines. This detail was added by today’s film a knock-off whose very title betrays a sly eagerness to confuse viewers into thinking it’s a later entry in Romero’s trilogy. It hardly needs to bother with the subterfuge though, The Return of the Living Dead is more than able to stand on its own merits. Indeed, while it may not be as revolutionary or inventive as Night of the Living Dead (1968), it is funnier, more violent, more frightening, and in almost every other way the superior film.

The Return of the Living Dead begins in a medical supply warehouse where newly-minted part-timer Freddy is learning the ropes from his older supervisor Frank. After showing Freddy where the split dogs are stored and how many cadavers they keep on tap in the meat locker (only one, you don’t want to be overstocked), Frank decides to show the kid something really special. He takes Freddy down to the basement where he has a few drums of government waste, which Frank assures him are contaminated with a secret chemical weapon that reanimates the dead al la Night of the Living Dead (1968). Indeed, Frank even claims that Romero’s movie was based off the real-life incident that produced these barrels. Now obviously, a reanimation chemical wasn’t supposed to be stored in some podunk medical supply warehouse, but in typical big government fashion the shipping labels got FUBARed and it wound up there. Frank and his boss Burt were so charmed by the curio that for years they refused to call the number printed on the side of the drums and hand them back to the army. I can’t say I blame them, it’s a hell of a conversation piece.

Too bad that after moldering in the basement for a couple of decades the seals on one of the drums ruptures (just as Frank praises the workmanship of the Army Corps of Engineers too) and sprays gas throughout the entire warehouse, knocking Frank and Freddy unconscious in the process. When they come to they discover that everything dead in the entire warehouse has been reanimated into an undead abomination. The split dogs are only a minor problem, as their condition and curing render them immobile. Of far greater concern is the human cadaver that Frank had on ice in the meat locker. It’s at this point that the pair realize they are in way over their heads and call Burt, the owner of the supply warehouse, to get his help with this mess.

Fortunately for them, Burt has seen Night of the Living Dead (1968) and knows that you can kill zombies by bashing their brains in. Only problem is, it turns out the “movie lied” and smashing a zombie’s brain no more inconveniences the monster than cutting off its toe. Burt is cool under pressure though, after only a minor freak-out he comes up with a backup plan. He and Ernie, the mortician at a nearby funeral parlor go way back, and Burt is sure he can twist Ernie’s arm into letting them use his incinerator. If the body is burned to ashes then nothing can come back. It’s a good plan, as far as they go, but it seems like Burt has never heard of acid rain before, and when the smoke from the incinerator mixes with the falling rain it creates a toxic slug that brings every corpse in the neighboring cemetery back to life.

While this is going on Freddy’s friends have come to pick him up after work and go party. However, they only spend about five seconds outside the warehouse before they get bored and wander off to get drunk in the cemetery. This is a clique of young adult friends that could only exist in a b-horror movie. We have Freddy and his girlfriend Tina who look like your regular young folks albeit a bit more conservatively dressed then most. For some reason they pal around with a gang of punks who go by names like Trash, Scuz, and Suicide and dress exactly how you would expect based on their monikers. Tagging along with the group are also Chuck and Casey, a couple of kids in fashion so retro that it would have made them look out of place if they were cast in the original Night of the Living Dead (1968). Oh well, at least it makes it easy for the audience to remember which character is which, as all of them have a very distinct visual style. This is doubly important because when the toxic rain hits the cemetery and the dead start crawling up from their graves shit is going to hit the fan fast.

Amazingly, this film has a bleaker and more cynical than either the ending to Night of the Living Dead (1968) or the original ending to Dawn of the Dead (1978). Hell, I think it would give The Crazies (1973) a run for its money in depiction of government cruelty and incompetence. When the army finds out that their chemical is loose and reanimating corpses in suburban America they open fire with atomic artillery, destroying all the zombies and killing a few hundred thousand civilians in the process. What’s more this doesn’t even stop the spread of the zombie outbreak, as all those smoldering corpses are in turn sending toxic pollution into the atmosphere that just needs a good rain storm to come down and start the whole cycle over again.

A word needs to be said about the relationship between Burt and Ernie (the names must have been chosen as a deliberate reference to the Sesame Street puppets) as they are easily the two most compelling characters in the film. Ernie seems to be an escaped Nazi war criminal, a fact that is never directly addressed (unlike the veterinarian in Dead Alive (1992) who is played for broad comedic laughs) but instead quietly hinted at. The way he carries a Lueger at all times, the way he’s quick to pull it on anyone who sneaks up on him, and his affinity for cremation don’t prove that he’s an escaped nazi, but they wiggle their eyebrows and gesture suggestively in that direction. Yet the real impressive part is his relationship with Burt, the two give every appearance of having a long and intimate friendship which they convey with few words. It doesn’t hurt that Clu Gulagar, who plays Burt, is hands down the best actors in the film and adds a layer of depth and gravitas to every scene he appears in.

When working in an established genre, like the zombie genre, the rules for making a successful film become at once more complex and more simplistic than they are when you’re not dealing with the restrictions of the genre. There are rules that you have to follow for the most part, but if you just follow all of them then you’ll wind up with a movie that is utterly disposable. You have to do something new and innovative, but also something that is familiar enough to the audience and that logically fits into the framework of the genre. It’s a difficult balance to strike, and as the genre’s rules get more and more ironclad it becomes a harder and harder one to manage.

More than anything though, when crafting a popular, entertaining film you have to be willing to give the audience what they want. Sounds obvious right, but if the diminishing returns Hollywood is reaping off of crappy nostalgia-bait with lazy subversions of audience expectations shoehorned in is anything to go by, it’s a lesson that many modern filmmakers could stand to learn from Dan O’Bannon. He gives us ample gore and violence, mixed with a smattering of dark humor to keep it from feeling overly nihilistic. He has Linnea Quigley take off her clothes for no reason at the fifteen minutes mark and proceed to stay naked for the rest of the runtime. When it does come time to subvert expectations, it’s handled with a bit of class and charm. The characters try desperately to remember how the zombies in Night of the Living Dead (1968) were killed, making this one of the rare zombie movies whose character know about other zombie movies. They eventually recall that the zombies died from a blow to the head, only to discover much to their dismay that the zombies here are considerably more durable.

The other thing that The Return of the Living Dead has which separates it from the rest of the herd of 1980s zombie movies is a keen attention to detail. When the toxic gas is first unleashed on the medical supply warehouse you can see the pinned butterflies fluttering on their display board. In the background of one shot we can see an eyechart that reads “B U R T I S A S L A V E D R I V E R.” The film is loaded with this sort of subtle visual gag, but never layers it on too thick to detract from the horrific things unfolding in the foreground. Instead they are mere gags and easter eggs strewn about for the pleasure of more keen-eyed viewers and those enjoying a rewatch. Good thing too because if ever there was a zombie movie that warranted regular screening it’s this one here.