Dawn of the Dead

Why, exactly, are zombies back on Hollywood's agenda at the moment? Surely they died out, if they ever can, following the heydays of the Italian horrors of the late 70s and early 80s? Apparently not though, for the cinemas have been inundated with undead chappies causing all sorts of commotion and distress (and that's just the punters – boom boom). Happily though, Dawn of the Dead is one of those rare beasts that actually equals, if not surpasses its originator; George Romero's flabby, self- satisfied 1978 satirical gore-fest.

And how it does this is simple – instead of milking the same donkey over and over again, bleeding all the satirical material possible out of its scenario, 2004's Dawn of the Dead just goes straight for the jugular with an intense, snappy and occasionally terrifying rollercoaster of a movie. Zack Snyder clearly has enough respect for his precursor to not attempt a complete rehash, and keeps the bones of the original plot together. A global pestilence has caused the dead to rise from their graves and chow down on the living, causing mass panic, swearing and running away. One particular group, a ragtag bunch of barely-survivors find their way to a shopping mall, where they decide to wait out the nightmare outside. But how long will the nightmare remain outside?

While the bones remain the same, the skeleton is a much more finely tuned beast. The opening sequence kicks Dawn off with a wallop, as Ana (Polley) watches her husband get eaten by the girl next door (no, sadly NOT Elisha Cuthbert) who has turned a nasty shade of dead. A desperate escape later and the scene is set for an epic showdown between living and dead, in which entrails most certainly ARE scoffed.

Purists might not like the fact that these zombies can run like the clappers, but this is symptomatic of the movie as a whole – it moves at a breakneck pace, offering up bitter comedy (see that fat woman move!), satiric sideswipes and some good old fashioned gore. It's a hell of a ride.

Greg Taylor