Land Of The Dead

It’s lock and load with a nod to Carpenter and the cavalry westerns of yore for the latest instalment of George A. Romero’s epic zombie saga. The pleasures, however, of riding shotgun with John Leguizamo at his sleaziest, as he mows down rows of the shuffling but evolving undead from the safety of a reinforced super truck, are short-lived.
In Romero’s zombie morality play, it’s all about the politics. Dennis Hopper essays a barking mad Republican – no stretch required – holed up in an ivory tower in a fortress city. If Dawn Of The Dead took sledgehammer aim at consumer culture, Land sees Mr Hopper and his ruling elite re-establishing the norms of capitalism, cackling all the while. Outside our besieged city walls it’s a zombie holocaust, inside it’s business as usual. The Dickensian masses fester while the rich sit by fountains, the squalor relieved only by base entertainments.
There’s no question whose side Romero’s on in all this. He’s with the good guys. No, not Simon Baker’s noble street protector (last day on the job, don’t you know), or even Asia Argento’s feisty goth hooker. This time, even more than the caustic denouement of Day Of The Dead, Mr. Romero is scratching his greying counter-cultural head and wondering whether it’s fucked altogether. If it’s always going to be about masters and slaves, if The Man is always going to be in the high tower, then maybe the walking dead should do their worst.
As reanimated petrol-pump attendant Eugene Clark leads zombie-kind towards revolt and fresh intestines, it’s clear who shall inherit the earth. Let’s just hope we get to see where Romero’s going with this. As it stands though, Land Of The Dead is a worthy, thought provoking addition to the canon and a superb pounding, squelching horror flick to boot. Walk on.