Partially Devoured: How Night of the Living Dead Saved My Life and Changed the World
by Daniel Kraus
Many thanks to Catapult Counterpoint Press, Soft Skull Press
and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Daniel Kraus’s wildly fun and
inventive deep dive into the world of Night of the Living Dead titled Partially
Devoured: How Night of the Living Dead Save My Life and Changed the World. Kraus, who estimates he’s seen NOTLD over 300 times since
his first viewing at age 5, took the title for this book from a line that is
repeated a few times in the film. Newscasters, who appeared so realistic to me
when I also first viewed this film at a young age (closer to 8-9), repeatedly
describe the victims of the reanimated ghouls of the film as being
partially devoured. While I love the film reference in the title, I feel like Fully
Consumed might be a more fitting title since this book is so comprehensive in
exploring every nook and cranny of the farmhouse, the characters, actors and
extras, and the production company, as well as the various offshoots, remakes, comics,
novelizations, board games, and all other ancillary and tangential products
related to NOTLD that I am in awe of Kraus’s fandom and knowledge
related to this film. It’s amazing and the book is truly a wealth of resources
for anyone who wants to learn what seems like everything they possibly can know
about this film.
While the book’s educational impact is incredible, I most
enjoyed Kraus’s narration of the film. It’s a little hard to explain, but he
takes readers through the film as if we are watching it with him; however, he occasionally
hits the pause button to let us know about the careers of the actors involved
in each scene, how they interacted with Romero or further contributed to the
production of NOTLD or even how they participate in the zombie-cons that
have arisen since the premiere and celebration of this iconic film. I can’t say
that there’s another book that takes such a deep dive with so many fascinating
digressions that still remain relevant and on topic about the film and its
scenes. Jonathan Lethem did shorter, but similar approach to John Carpenter’s They
Live, but didn’t really go too much into the production or legacy of the
film. Rather, Lethem’s book is a scene by scene analysis and is fun, but not in
the same way that Kraus’s book fully consumes all there is to know about NOTLD
and Romero’s legacy in horror and film. There’s so much to love about this
book, and for me it’s Kraus’s genuine enthusiasm and joy in discussing his love
for this film (and horror in general).
Maybe it’s because I could relate to Kraus’s experience. We
are about the same age, and like Kraus, my first encounter with NOTLD
was at a young age when I caught it on TV. As Kraus notes, the lack of a
copyright due to a production error caused significant issues for NOTLD
and its production company, where it instantly became part of the public domain.
As a result, it’s one of those films that was constantly on television in the 1980s,
even though it is about possible space radiation that resurrects the dead to
become flesh-devouring ghouls (not zombies). And like Kraus, this movie imprinted
itself on me for some time. It was one of the most terrifying films I had ever
seen, and I was not one who was easily scared by films (I begged my parents to
let me watch Alien and American Werewolf in London when I was
like 5—I was always seeking out scary films). However, something about this
film completely frightened me, and it wasn’t until later that I realized
it was the production and how
un-film-like it was. When I first watched this film, I don’t remember much
about the soundtrack. It’s a point that Kraus brings up a lot throughout his
analysis, and I appreciated learning more about this library soundtrack. It’s also
exciting to learn that it is available on vinyl. However, when I first encountered
this film, so much of the film seemed so realistic; even the newscast seemed to
be so real, that the film really terrified me. I think also that this was one
of the first survival films that I saw where the threat from outside is almost
as bad as the threat from inside. That is, the struggle between Ben and Harry
was also really terrifying for my younger self. We see that people are not
working together, but are working against one another. I also think that seeing
young Karen transform into a flesh-eater, and then kill her mother and eat her
father was also a shocking revelation to 8 year old me. The idea of revolting
against parents seemed shocking at the time. However, what was most upsetting
to me is the ending of NOTLD, where we see the good guys don’t win. I’m
glad that some of Kraus’s most impassioned writing about the film are focused
on the end of the film, and its continued relevance to today. I won’t reveal
the ending here, but it’s definitely something that shocked, angered, and left
me so distraught when I first watched it. Kraus’s description and analysis gave
me an even greater appreciation, and yet it still moved me to be so angry and
sad about it at the same time. It’s some great writing, but it’s hard for me to
say whether it’s the best part of the book. I couldn’t put this book down and
just kept reading and reading to learn more about the film’s production and
understand its importance to Kraus.
Other experiences Kraus describes resonated with me as well,
from spending so much time in the horror section of video stores, seeking out
the most disturbing, banned films to really engage my love of horror, to watching
Terror in the Aisles around the same time as NOTLD and wanting to
watch all of the films that were featured in this incredible documentary. A few
years ago, I watched Ms 45 and was taken back to being 9 or so and seeing
a gun-toting nun mow down some creeps from Terror in the Aisles. I loved
the references to other Romero films as well, especially some of the lesser
known films like The Crazies and Martin. Strangely enough, my dad
once rented the Crazies and I still remember the dad in that film trying
to kill his kids and a grandma who used knitting needles to kill a solider. I also
remember watching Martin in college and being blown-away by the
inventive take on the vampire film. Kraus provides some in-depth analysis and research
into Romero’s career, but also takes us through the variations of NOTLD
scripts that are in the Romero archives in Pittsburgh. It allows us to better
understand the changes that were made during production possibly because of
cost, time, or other issues. Nevertheless, Kraus, due to his astute and
innumerable viewings of NOTLD is able to identify all the flaws and continuity
issues in the film that only adds to its greatness. However, what I most
enjoyed was Kraus’s development of backstories for each of the characters in
the film. It’s both hilarious and creative and highlights the ways that he
thinks about people and situations. It also made me want to read more of his
books, since I could see how detailed and precise he takes the development of
these characters from their hairstyles to their clothes, and mannerisms. While
most of the cast were not professional actors, Kraus notes some of the bolder
choices that the actors employ, whether purposeful or not, that also lend to
the film’s enduring legacy. I also loved learning more about the actors and
crew involved in this film. I was particularly interested in learning more
about Duane Jones, who plays the lead character Ben. I took an African American
film class in college, and one of the films that was out of print but
constantly discussed was Ganja and Hess. I don’t remember reading about
Duane Jones or putting together that Ben from NOTLD was Hess in the
film, and I didn’t get to see the film until a few years after graduating, but
I noticed Ben right away, a little older and wearier, but still commanding the
scene. Although Duane Jones passed away nearly 40 years ago, Kraus provides
some insight and hypothesizes about Jones since he was a private man who only
has a few film credits to his name. It was also fascinating and sad to read
about Keith Wayne, who plays Tom, a young man who seeks refuge in the farmhouse.
He had a fascinating post-NOTLD career that ultimately ended in tragedy,
and Kraus’s keen insight and observations provide a tragic spotlight on Wayne’s
life. Despite being about one of the most terrifying and transgressive horror
films ever, this book is full of joy—it’s celebratory and so much fun to read along
as Kraus takes us through the film. It’s a book I will definitely revisit,
especially as I will rewatch NOTLD very soon. This is a great book for
those who are fans of horror films, and especially if you are a fan of Romero’s
work or NOTLD in general. I highly recommend this book! It was so much fun
to read.
A few random thoughts that I encountered during my reading:
One was the Danny Pintauro reference from the Horror Hall of Fame show. Kraus
referenced that NOTLD received a Horror Oscar during this broadcast that
either Pintauro hosted or presented to Romero. While Kraus referenced Who’s
the Boss?, Pintauro also played Thad in Cujo before Who’s the Boss?
I’m wondering if he was included because of Cujo. Weirdly enough, the
local skating rink I went to had a picture of Danny Pintauro hanging up because
he skated there at one point. This rink was in Blue Bell, PA, and Kraus also referenced
a possibly racially driven murder that occurred in Blue Bell in 2022, which I
didn’t even realize happened. Apparently a man was found hanging on the monkey
bars of a park where I’ve gone running and taken my kids to play. It was a
strange coincidence and haunting reminder of the power of this film.
No comments:
Post a Comment