Back to the Mall: A Few Thoughts on Seeing 'Dawn of the Dead' on the Silver Screen

Written by John Edward Betancourt

​It is no secret that I am a huge fan of George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead. This iconic zombie film, a magnum opus if you will, captivated my imagination at an early age and it’s a film that I have revisited on home video countless times at this point. Yet oddly enough, up until this week, it is a motion picture that I have never been able to truly enjoy on the big screen.
 
Granted, I’ve seen it on the big screen, but was unable to truly relish in the experience. I was in a tough place personally at that point in time, where I was seriously trying to figure out how to end a horrible five-year relationship with the woman I was dating at the time and when something that big on is on your mind, you tend to use entertainment as an escape and not truly appreciate the wonder of the moment and that’s precisely what happened when I went to see it. It was cool, it was awesome, but part of my mind simply was not there.
 
But this week, the Alamo Drafthouse provided Romero fans with a screening of this epic film to honor his passing earlier this month and this time around…I was finally able to truly kick back and bask in the wonder of seeing this film on the big screen and my goodness…what a magical evening this turned out to be. There really is something magical about seeing one’s favorite films on the silver screen and for me, seeing Dawn with a clear mind took me right back to the first time I ever saw it. Suddenly the splatter was stomach churning again, the horror of it all was front and center and I even came to realize in the middle of the third act as Stephen and Peter fought the raiders in the mall, that my heart was racing from the intensity of it all.
 
Yet what I truly appreciated about this special viewing, was the sheer fact that it spoke to the film’s legacy in that, it is truly a visceral experience for the ages. I heard folks laughing heartily during the film’s more comical moments. I heard gasps of air when the dead feasted upon warm human flesh and most importantly, the audience slipped into silence, for the most part, once the film made its dark turn into the titular and powerful third act and any chuckles I did hear at that point were uncomfortable ones in relation to the horrors that were unfolding on the screen.
 
However, having seen Dawn of the Dead so many times with awe or rose-colored glasses if you will, the age of the film has escaped me, but it was fitting to hear the audience chuckle at bell bottoms that went on for days, or the strangeness of seeing a pregnant woman smoke a cigarette without a care in the world. But despite those antiquated moments, this whole experience was a blast. It made me wonder if the audiences lucky enough to see this film in 1979 in a theater had a similar response of joy and terror and I cannot thank the Alamo Drafthouse enough for paying respect to Mister Romero one last time by letting all of us bask in his finest work and I’m glad I finally got to truly appreciate this film on the silver screen, the way George intended for it to be seen…

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