‘Night
of the Living Dead’ is
ingeniously entertaining
By Paul Kolas Telegram and Gazette Reviewer
October 9, 2007
STURBRIDGE— Board up your windows and doors! They’re coming for you!
And if Jeremy Woloski has his way, they’ll get you, too.
Woloski has written and directed what has to be some kind of B-Theater
cult classic, a stage version of George Romero’s 1968 seminal horror
movie “Night of the Living Dead.” He’s taken some liberties with the
plot, notably the ending, but retains the essential story of a group
of people holed up in a secluded Pennsylvania farmhouse, trying to
fend off an army of zombies brought to carnivorous life by a dose
of radiation from outer space.
A play about flesh-eating zombies may sound like something to avoid
like the plague, but hold on. Woloski’s obvious relish for his source
material has fired his imagination in truly inventive ways. Saturday
night’s gore fest not only boasted acting far superior to the monochromatic
emoting in Romero’s low-budget film, but engaged the audience in some
“participatory” media trickery. Television monitors provide theater
patrons with “news coverage” of the world-wide zombie invasion. John
Monfredo, as newscaster Barry Sullivan, periodically updates us, and
the actors onstage, with what’s happening in the outside world. A
CDC official (Lisa Glasheen) fields a flurry of questions from frenzied
citizens. What is causing the dead to come alive and consume human
flesh? No one knows the answer, only helpless speculation is offered.
It wouldn’t be fair to give away the choice visual surprises, but
Robert Latino’s sharp-shooting skills on the telly, as zombie-hunting,
country bumpkin-accented Sheriff Putnam, are something to behold.
Latino and Woloksi have teamed up to create some mighty fine makeup
and special effects.
It’s an ingeniously entertaining and gripping show, never allowing
our attention to wander, deftly flipping the narrative back and forth
from the action onstage to the TV broadcasts.
Zombies incessantly lumber back and forth outside the windows of
the farmhouse living room, ashen-faced and covered in “blood,” moaning
and waiting for any opportunity to claw their way in and munch on
the humans inside.
The “us against them” factor is expertly exploited with a taut, claustrophobic
dread as tensions run high.
With all those hungry critters out there, it doesn’t help that Harry
Cooper (Patrick Lynch) is causing such a ruckus among his fellow humans.
He’s the guy who thinks he’s always right, refusing to accept a majority
opinion about the best means of survival and escape, the exasperating
skeptic sneering at the unfathomable notion that the dead have come
back to life.
We all know what fate lies in store for the Harry Coopers of the
world. Denouncing everyone as “frigging idiots” so many times it becomes
laughingly redundant, Lynch chews up the scenery like a zombie rampaging
through Times Square at lunch hour. He’s hysterical.
The rest of the humans perform with admirable B-movie urgency, horror
and panic.
Neal Martel dives into the role of “leader” Ben with true hero’s
zeal. Libby Schap transfers effectively from shell-shocked and whimpering
to combat-ready as Barbara. Peter Arsenault scores persuasively as
Tom, whose uncle “owned” the farmhouse. Stacie Beland has some vivid
moments as his wife, Judy. Ellen Elsasser delivers a convincing wife-and-mother-in-distress
performance as Helen Cooper. Todd Darling offers a funny bit as TV
newsman Robert Lavin.
As for the zombies, too many to name here, they all deserve a good
“meal” for their alarmingly realistic relentlessness.
Josh Minor’s lighting and Sean Dubois’ TV location filming and editing
also deserve an appreciative nod.
For those crying out for something different, here it is, and strange
as it may seem, great fun.
Chew on that. |