Saturday, July 22, 2017

Goodbye, George A. Romero


One week ago we lost my cinematic hero, Mr. George A. Romero. What can I say to eulogize him that hasn't already been said? Romero's films were for the thinking viewer, but told using the working class monsters. In many ways, he legitimized horror.

Please don't be offended. Let me explain what I mean. You know when people ask you what kind of movies (or books or videogames) you  like and your answer is horror? You know how they roll their eyes and start judging you? How you can tell that they now think you are some kind of depraved psycho that burns ants with a magnifine glass or tears the wings off of butterflies or kicks puppies and makes babies cry? Well to me George was always the answer to that look. "But have you ever actually watched Night or Dawn or Day and their deep metaphorical looks at the problems with our society? Yes, his films have featured gore from day one, but did you pay attention to the dialogue and way it shows how humankind deteriorates under pressure?" These films go so much deeper that the average audience would anticipate. But not us horror fans. We understand what George is telling us. And this is part of the reason that he is my hero.


I was honored to meet George Romero a handful of times over the years. The first time was in the late 90s at the Fangoria Weekend of Horrors in New York City. At the time I was an undergrad and had really become quite obsessed with his movies. I remember nervously waiting with my sister in the halls of the New Yorker Hotel.They had George sequestered in a suite upstairs, away from the convention floor. It felt like we were waiting for an audience with the pope. I was so nervous, but when I finally had my turn to meet the man, he instantly made me feel at home. He told me to have a seat next to him for the photo and so we could chat a bit. I thanked him and gushed about how much I love his work, which was pretty obvious in my Martin t-shirt. He asked me what I do and I said I was going to school at a small New Jersey college for filmmaking. "Oh, you make films too!" He said he had heard of my school and I said I know he probably hadn't, but it was so sweet for him to say so. Then we smiled for the camera and he signed my 8x10 photo with "Stay Scared!", like he always did, and sent me on my way. This small interaction meant so much to me and I cherish it to this day. How could a man that had made such important films take the time to make his fans feel so welcome and important? It boggled my mind.

About ten years later, when I was pursuing my Masters Degree, my husband and I attended the Horrorfind Convention is Hunt Valley, Maryland. I was working on a documentary project about the importance of independent cult and horror films of the 60s, 70s and 80s and had been collecting interviews with filmmakers and actors for a year. When I heard Geroge was going to be the guest of honor I wanted to go down to the show so that I could ask him for an interview. He was the epitome of my thesis, afterall.
When it was time for us to get online for his autograph, I couldn't decide which laserdisc to get signed, so I had them all in my arms. I figured I would decide while we waited our turn. Of course when the time came, I still hadn't really decided, but figured I would go with the Dead trilogy of films. When we were called up I told George about my project and handed him the three discs. I clearly remember him telling me, "Why don't I sign all of those you're holding so we can have more time to talk." He invited me to come up to Toronto where he would be starting to work on his new film, Land of the Dead, and I could film the interview while on the set. I was instructed to speak to Greg Nicatero (also a guest at the con) and send an email to Christine Romero.
I was on cloud nine! Of course when I spoke to Nicatero I found out that George had invited a few hundred people to come to the filmming, but to still contact Chris. I got an email back saying that basically it wouldn't be possible. There were just too many people coming up from the States to comply with Canadian film crew rules. But I still appreciated George's invitation and fondly remember our little chat.
Years later I finally did get that interview when George appeared down in Cherry Hill, NJ for the Monster Mania Convention. This time I was starting work on a new documentary project that focused on the evolution of women in horror and science fiction. This time George was promoting his new film, Survival of the Dead, and his manager granted me five minutes and three questions. Ever gracious, George kept talking and it ended up being more like fifteen minutes in all. I cherish that footage and hope the world will see it one day.
Geroge A. Romero made smart, thought-provoking movies set within the horror genre which showed the true horror of the human condition. He loved and appreciated his fans and embraced each of us as if we were part of the family. In fact his movies have formed a kind of family that includes not just us diehards, but also the people that starred in and worked with him to make these movies. We all have this everlasting bond of being touched by the importance of his work. While I may be just a distant cousin that can only come to visit on the big holidays, I know that I am welcome to the table with the rest of the family. And while George may be gone, his films will last forever as we all stay scared.