“There are those who you can’t get ’em away from the first one [Night of the Living Dead]. Then there’s those who celebrate and party with Dawn of the Dead. Then there’s those real trolls who like Day of the Dead,” so says Romero of his zombie fanbase.

Yes, Night of the Living Dead redefined the genre and exploited the cultural revolution of the time (as well as set cinematic history by casting a black man in the leading role). Then Dawn acutely satirized mass consumerism. Yet, what great overriding metaphor can be slapped on Day? Well, I would argue that the weight of the previous two films are heavy baggage for the finale to counterbalance and will confess that Day might fall short but I will not, will not concede that Day is a failure (even if that does qualify me as a troll). And here’s why.

The spread of zombism becomes more drastic in each stage of the trilogy. Thus, we are given to believe that this is the penultimate apocalypse for Man in the final chapter of Romero’s tale. The film opens with a motley crew who land via helicopter in a seemingly deserted town somewhere in Florida. We quickly discover they are making a quick survey of a nearby town for signs of real life (verses undead). After the undead begin to languidly shuffle, awakened by the sound of living flesh permeates the silence, we realize things haven’t gotten any better for humanity. There is 400,000 zombies for every one living person.

Yet, nihilism isn’t enough to make a good zombie flick. Why I argue Day is effective is the claustrophobia is more focused: a key component to many a great horror film. The possibility of escape gives characters a way out, however minimal, and by confining us to an underground shelter (no chance of seeing the metaphorical daylight) Romero literally gives the viewer nowhere to go and the nightmare is exacerbated by the fact that, of the remaining humans, there now exists two factions with are at odds with one another: the idealistic scientific community and the pragmatic military faction.

Of the two, the former is represented by Sarah (Lori Cardille) and Logan (Richard Liberty), the latter warmly referred to as “Dr. Frankenstein” by the recently promoted CO (by way of his superior’s death), Rhodes (Joseph Pilato). Indeed, he is Frankenstein because he is attempting to bring (civilized) life back into the undead. The nightmare runs 24/7 due to the fact that when the two factions aren’t yelling at one another, the tension from the continual battle carries over to their individual groups once they separate into their private quarters. Ebert criticized that the dialogue is shouted throughout the duration of the film. However, under the circumstances I don’t believe that it would be far removed from the given scenario, nor do I believe it depletes the heightened moments. Rather, because our nerves are never allowed a break from the razor, it makes such moments more terrorizing, damn near unbearable as it were, as a consequence.

Yes, unlike Dawn, the characters are cut-outs but, due to the circumstances the people have not been given a chance to play fence-sitter. Literally, you’re either one of us (either a scientist or a soldier) or you’re one of them by default. Those that attempt to remain neutral, such as John (Terry Alexander) and William (Jarlath Conroy), are left to their own means without support from either faction. A bad move when, and here’s part of the Romero trademark style, the humans are more threatening than what lies above.

Aside from the constant tension created by the rivalry between the diametrically opposed groups, atop the confined enclosure they are forced to live within, John Harrison’s musical score, though a dated ’80’s, compounds the anxiety due to its parallel relentlessness.

Of course, the situation has become more drastic and with each human death, the race itself creeps that much closer to complete oblivion. This is brought to the forefront by Tom Savini’s swansong of F/X which, as he commented in an interview, at times even threw Dick Smith (the man responsible for The Exorcist).

Yes, Romero’s vision was compromised in this film, his budget being yanked from 7 million down to 3.5. The original script was more expansive and, as we can assume from the build-up from the first two films, would have easily continued in the same vein with the same power, perhaps even triumphed over the preceding two, who knows? However, financial constraints aside, I believe Romero did a fine job with what he was given and the film holds its own without any need to second guess it.

-Egregious Gurnow