By Chris Hyde

May 22, 2003

When the upcoming DVD Special Edition of George Romero's Dawn of the Dead got pushed back to early 2004, eager horror fans were crushed. But now, the release of the directors oft-overlooked 1973 film The Crazies has arrived to ease the pain.

An apocalyptic tale of '70s-era mistrust, The Crazies has always been somewhat neglected when measured against the director's better-known zombie outings. But with this pristine new Blue Underground DVD of the film, the movie can now be seen in a form that allows it to take its place among the best of Romero's work. Though not as graphically violent as his later films that feature the walking dead, this thriller is nonetheless packed with killings galore as a Pennsylvania town becomes caught in the thrall of a bioweapon unleashed upon it by its own government.

The movie opens with a pre-credit sequence that shows an anxious young girl being teased by her brother as he tries to scare her in the middle of the night (and the kid even throws in a zombie bit just for fun!). But these children's games are suddenly upset when they see their father destroying their home with a crowbar for no apparent reason, and he then subsequently sets fire to the place. Shortly thereafter we are introduced to the two main characters in the story, a pregnant nurse (Lane Carroll) and her volunteer fireman boyfriend (Will McMillan). Much of the movie involves these two as they experience a governmental siege on their town and join a group that tries to escape from hordes of military men in decon suits.

What has happened here is that a plane carrying an experimental biological weapon has crashed near the unsuspecting town and the virus has seeped into the water supply. Anyone who ingests the water then becomes completely unstable and prone to emotive outbursts of varying kinds, and additionally becomes a vector that can spread the condition to any others that they come into contact with. The military soon shows up to seal off the town in an attempt to contain the population and halt the diffusion of this illness to the public beyond the town limits. Also, they are sneakily looking to cover up what's happened so as to avoid any undue bad publicity for the government, and are willing to go to just about any lengths to keep any of the townspeople from escaping to the outside.

It should be obvious from the above synopsis that the film contains plenty of social commentary that underlies Romero's tale of terror, a trademark that denotes most of the director's work from this era. The military forces are alternately depicted as callous, dishonest, mean and sometimes just plain inept. The government's declaration of martial law is met with much resistance from the townspeople, both those who have been driven insane by the virus as well as others who are simply trying to defend their homes against a force that invades their turf with virtually no explanation at all. This evocation of the Vietnam era's utter distrust of those in power lends a savage edge to the narrative, and helps to explain the reasons why the small group around which much of the tale revolves just want to escape to the outside rather than turn to the army for help.

The cast here is for the most part solid but not spectacular - with the possible exception of scream queen Lynn Lowry, who puts in a great turn as a young woman eventually afflicted with the virus. With the miniscule budget of the film, many of the bit players are nonprofessionals from the local area that Romero roped into playing on the cheap. But the ensemble work is still capable enough to carry off the story's disturbing qualities, and with the action continuing throughout the film at an alarming pace, there's little time to dwell on any of the cast's deficiencies. The screenplay as written by Romero is a taut and paranoid set piece that plays on many of the many concerns of the post-'60s American epoch, but its action-packed flavor keeps it from being bogged down with any political heavy handedness (a trait that it shares with the director's masterpiece, Dawn of the Dead). The breakneck pace at which the film is edited (a chore also accomplished by Romero himself) is also an aid to the film's success; with skillful cutting the director keeps the enterprise moving at such a frenetic rate that even his insertions of stock footage work without upsetting the rhythm of this disquieting yarn.

As for the presentation of the DVD itself, kudos should be sent Blue Underground's way for the manner in which the film is displayed. The digital transfer is of exceedingly high quality, and aside from some slight graininess and the occasional bit of print damage, the visuals are completely gorgeous. The colors are brilliant throughout, and considering that the film was made for a pittance it's pretty amazing just how great it looks (during the director's commentary Romero even points out one nighttime scene that he claims looks far better on the DVD than in the original). Additionally, though the soundtrack is but a simple mono mix it comes through in a clear way without much extraneous noise, rendering the sound portion of the package perfectly adequate given the movie's budgetary limitations.

As far as extras go, there are plenty of supplements given to flesh out the package. An audio commentary by the director is insightful and interesting, with Bill Lustig along to help draw out some choice anecdotes from the film's helmsman. Also of note is a great little 14-minute interview with Lynn Lowry, wherein she details some of her career work (she was also in I Drink Your Blood, Shivers by David Cronenberg and the softcore porn film Score, directed by famous erotic filmmaker Radley Metzger) and talks specifically of her experiences in making The Crazies. Additionally, there are tons of publicity stills and posters included, a full range of trailers and TV spots, and lastly a biography of George Romero is given to complete this awe inspiring release.

Though it flopped horribly upon its release (likely due to its downbeat nature and gritty subject matter) and remained obscure for many years, this brilliant restoration brings back to light a film that can now be recognized as one of Romero's best. Playing the same sort of seriocomic/horror line as his better-known walking undead outings, the Crazies manages to succeed not just as a lively thriller but also as arch political commentary. Never boring, this blood-drenched bit of cinema stands as an exciting example of '70s-era terror, and as it was made for under $300,000, the production is actually of a relatively high quality. Within those budgetary limitations, the director made many choices that serve to enhance rather than hinder the final product, and as pointed out by Bill Lustig during the commentary help to give the work an almost documentary feel. This serves to underline the themes inherent in the screenplay, and only adds to the realistic atmosphere of this alienated modern fable. Overall, then, this new release of The Crazies is both a pleasure in its own right as well as an important historic document of an era when an independent horror movie could be made on the cheap for theatrical release without having studio imposed blandness forced upon it. While sadly those days are now long gone, at least the technology of today does allow for the rediscovery of forgotten gems such as this. So if you have any affinity at all for the horror films of the 1970s, do not miss your new chance to see this one. Besides, it'll help take your mind off the loooooong wait for the Dawn of the Dead Special Edition.