Kenji Lockett
It's Scary: Viewing “Night of the Living Dead” Through the Lens of Racism


Introduction

George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (first released in 1968), a macabre story of flesh eating zombies (a.k.a. the walking dead), is a gothic classic for die-hard horror movie fanatics. The film, despite its gothic theme (slow lurking monsters voraciously pursuing human beings) is clearly more than just a horror movie. The imagery, dialogue, and casting mirror historically significant social attitudes and ideologies about Black male leadership and the fear of miscegenation.

Is it ironic that the production of Romero’s movie takes place during the 1960’s, a juncture in American history when Blacks are attacking racism and struggling for civil rights? While this question alone should arouse the curiosity of the viewer, the film’s main attraction is its leading character, an African American male who physically and mentally dominates the movie. According to an article on the “Night of the Living Dead” on Wikipedia.com, Romero has denied choosing Duane Jones, a Black actor, specifically for the part, claiming that he merely gave the “best audition.” Despite Romero’s denial, he not only picks a black man who is in charge, a cinematic anomaly; black male characters are most often early casualties in American feature films. He also creates an African American character who lives until the end of the movie.

Ben, Duane Jones' character, plays an important role in deconstructing and fighting white supremacy. Not only does he have to face zombies, but Ben also has to deal with a white man listening to his directions in order to survive. The battle that emerges over who will be leader (Harry or Ben) serves as a role reversal of the power construct. For example, after everyone becomes acquainted, a debate over the safest escape route takes place between these two. Ben quickly reinforces his command by simply stating, “You can be boss down there/ I’m boss up here.” Harry’s reluctance to put his life in the hands of a black man reveals his overbearing pride, and potentially his racial bias.

From Leadership to Miscegenation

The racial imagery in Romero’s cult classic becomes even more intense when the main supporting character, a white woman, is a placed in a position of danger. Barbara, played by Judith O’Dea, is caught in the middle of the conflict when Ben objects to Harry’s attempts to take Barbara down to the basement. A brief physical altercation occurs, and Harry is forced into submission. In Hollywood Fantasies of Miscegenation (2004), Susan Courtney argues, “that the repression of the image of a black man beating a white man has everything to do with the production of the image of a black man desiring a white woman” (50). This quote further underscores the nature of the dispute between the two characters. Not only is Harry’s power emasculated, but he does not get to indulge in the fantasy of white female sexual innocence, nor does he get to protect it.

Ben’s sexuality, as well as the extent of his protection for Barbara, is conveyed through phallic objects, which he maintains in his possession over the course of the movie. For example, the gun he uses to shoot the zombies, and his hammer to board up the house; even his use of wood exudes massive sex appeal. Thus, putting these two together is a clever move because it creates a slight acceptance of miscegenation.

In early films like The Birth of a Nation, white women were shown running away from the “black male rapist,” however in NLD, the white woman is violated by someone of her own race (a white zombie).

In Retrospect

Whether the casting of a Black man by George A. Romero was done purposely or not, the intent of the movie is clear; it is to highlight the ongoing struggle for equality in America. Duane Jones’ character becomes a catalyst for African Americans attempting to deconstruct white supremacy through positive black male leadership. This film touches on multiple aspects of racism, including providing white Americans with a glimpse of their subconscious and collective hatred of people who are different.

A budding poet and intellectual, Kenji Nikkole Lockett has defied the myths and statistical representation of Blacks in the United States. Born and raised in the East Bay in the housing projects, Kenji's work conveys the challenges of living in society and on the streets of Oakland. On the verge of suicide, she turned her love of writing into a tool to heal herself and to beat her depression. To Kenji there is nothing more important and powerful than self-expression through the arts. She hopes to one day to be a leader and a model in the Black lesbian community and society at large.